by Jayne Hawke
Both strikes landed, each a simple straight-arm thrust into the exposed face of their target. Both witches screamed and threw themselves backwards, barely keeping their balance in the cumbersome armour. As I landed, I stomped the leader’s face a second time, ensuring she wouldn’t be a further problem, and took the measure of her forces. Two pretty girls who would never be pretty again were glaring at me over the top of matching wounds just below their left eyes, streams of beautiful shining crimson running down over their perfect white faces to stain their perfect white armour. I’d never felt so artistic.
Neither had made a move to staunch the bleeding, and I quickly realized why. All of their gauntlets had blades built in like claws. That explained their strange fighting stance and their lack of more traditional weapons, and it meant that pressing their hand to their face would do more harm than good. I restrained my urge to make a cat fight pun and spun to my right, where three unwounded but quite shaken witches were hesitating on the verge of a full rout. I feinted with my right dagger towards the rightmost witch, giving the impression of an attack identical to the one I’d just used. She flinched back, and her sister on the left tried to make use of the opportunity to attack. I spun through the thrust and, ducking under the cartoonish two-handed cat swipe she made at my throat, drove the other blade into the attacker’s right ear, passing behind the mask and into her brain, killing her without so much as smudging her makeup.
No one can say I’m not thoughtful.
The two next to her watched in horror as she collapsed, then put their hands up like they were surrendering to the police and backed away as fast as they could before turning to run. That left me with the two injured girls and their two soon-to-be-injured friends. I found them looking determined, even confident, and it took me a moment to process the shift. I’d expected nothing more dangerous than anger, more likely fear and helplessness. Determined to regain the psychological advantage, I quickly crossed the distance and made an upward swipe towards the uninjured one’s chin.
I planned for her to reflexively block, opening herself to a killing blow from my other hand, but instead she relied on her neck armour to catch the blow and used the opening to clock me across the face with the heavy gauntlet. I staggered back, dazed. I’d known it would hurt, but it was like taking a mace blow to the cheek. I almost wished she used her damn claws.
I backpedalled while I rethought. I knew that if I lost the momentum of the fight, the power of fear and shock, I was done. Their odd armament aside, they were equipped for a war, albeit a long-forgotten one, and I was dressed for a jog. Aphrodite hadn’t been a war goddess for a long time, but she gave out toys fit for one. I couldn’t penetrate their armour without using too much magic, and I couldn’t afford to take more than a couple of hits myself. They knew I wanted to get in facial blows, which made me predictable but also made them afraid. I doubted Aphrodite would have much use for servants that looked less like goddesses of beauty and more like Bride of Frankenstein, and in any case pretty people want to stay pretty.
Within a few seconds, I arrived at a conclusion. I couldn’t keep going for the face every time, and any other blade strike was wasted. I put my daggers away and uprooted a lonesome split-rail fence post next to the sidewalk that had outlived its fence but not yet its usefulness. I grasped it in two hands. It was time to get primitive.
The moment they had seen my daggers go back in their sheathes, they’d begun to advance. They didn’t know what I was going to do, but they knew they wanted to stop it before I could. My cudgel and I didn’t wait for them to get there. I took two steps towards the lead aggressor and swept under her guard to thunk my makeshift weapon into her ankles, spinning to catch the girl behind her across the back of the head. The two tumbled over each other into a heap, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Strong, tough, beautiful, even elegant; these things plate armour certainly is. Easy to get up in, not so much. The two of them would be out of the fight more than long enough for me to end it. The two remaining happened to be the ones I’d injured at the beginning. They were looking tired and outraged, their day not going at all how they’d planned. I tried to transfer the post to one hand, but found it was too big around to use comfortably. A shame, but necessity is the mother of invention.
I telegraphed a cricket-bat swing at head height, causing the traumatized girls to throw their hands up to block it. Before they could react, I dropped the weapon, drew my daggers back off my thighs, and slammed them home, one into each witch just above the neck guard. They went down, looks of hurt betrayal on their dying faces as if I’d ruined their day with my petty, vindictive survival instinct.
That left me with two, neither of whom had managed to get back into a fighting position after losing their war with the fence post. I saved them the trouble and threw them into unconsciousness with a pair of pommel strikes. Their pride would hurt nearly as much as their heads, but as long as they woke up quickly they’d have enough armour left un-stolen to trade for a CAT scan. I got things started by stealing one of their gauntlets to examine later.
I heard a whispered incantation from behind me and turned to see the leader carving symbols into the pavement with her clawed hands. Her face was ruined beyond repair, and the words of her spell came out as a phlegmatic mumble, but her good eye had the focus and awareness of a powerful magic user.
I felt as much as heard her say, “Stop digging,” before she faded from existence.
THIRTY-NINE
Ethan arrived at my house with a screech of tyres.
“Are you ok?” he asked as he looked me up and down.
“Fine, nothing too bad,” I said, dropping the bladed gauntlet, still flawless white in evidence of the fact that she hadn’t landed a blow, onto the table.
Cade stepped around Ethan and handed me a large brilliant pink potion flask.
“Drink that, just in case,” Cade said.
I knocked the potion back without asking. I knew better than to try and argue. The potion tasted like elderflower, a very light refreshing taste. The cool, almost menthol feeling began in my chest and spread out through my limbs, healing every little injury I didn’t know I had.
“I brought brownies,” Cade said to Matt with a grin.
“We thought you’d be hungry,” Ethan said as he ushered me to the small kitchen table.
The space seemed very cramped with the four of us in there. Ethan placed a brown paper package in front of me. It was easily as long and deep as my forearm.
I raised an eyebrow at him. He pursed his lips and unwrapped it to reveal a heap of sandwiches, cheese, and a huge slice of cake.
“I can’t eat all of that!” I said.
“Try,” Ethan said as he handed me a sandwich.
“Really, I’m fine. I’ll save this for later,” I said, pushing the sandwich away.
“You need the calories. Your body just burned up all of the calories you had with that healing potion,” Cade said gently.
The sandwiches did look really good...
I pushed the package towards Matt, who hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
Cade backed up and perched on the small kitchen counter, while Ethan leaned against the wall behind me with his arms crossed.
“Tell us everything,” Ethan commanded.
I took a long moment to pick up the gauntlet and look it over, reminding Ethan that owning me wasn’t the same as mastering me. There were no signs of workmanship. That meant that it was made by magic, or else given directly from the god plane if such a thing was even possible. The surface of it felt like lacquer, but the fight had left no scuff marks, nor did my dagger leave so much as a scratch. I didn’t feel any magic inherent in it, but it was without a doubt the most flawless piece of metalwork, if it was metal, that I’d ever held in my hands.
The blades were almost reminiscent of scalpels, molecule-sharp but only maybe a centimetre long. I envisioned them being used to create an opening for the fingers of the gauntlet to penetrate and tear apart. It would
be a painful way to go.
Having made my point and gotten a basic grip on the rather fascinating new weapon, I raised my eyes to Ethan’s and began my story.
“I was out for a run, trying to burn off the obscene amount of food you give me...” I looked at him pointedly. “And I was ambushed by a small group of witches. They wore brilliant white porcelain half-masks that covered the right side of their face, and armour like that.” I nodded to the gauntlet in front of me. “The last one told me to ‘stop digging’ before she disappeared,” I said.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed, and a deep growl rumbled in his throat. I made a point of ignoring the growl.
“Aphrodite witches?” Cade asked as he accepted a brownie from Matt.
“Sounds like the goddess of love to me,” Ethan said in a deep threatening tone.
Ethan snorted.
“Goddess of love? She’s a vicious harpy,” he said.
“Aphrodite is an unpleasant goddess. She deals with lust, envy, and a very twisted idea of love. Her god touched are well known for making those who displease the goddess incredibly ugly. They steal people’s spouses, they make powerful people fall in love with them and then steal away their riches. The list goes on. There is nothing fluffy and lovey tied into Aphrodite,” Cade said.
I took another bite of my roast beef and tomato sandwich while I let that sink in. There really didn’t seem to be many pleasant gods out there.
“Her witches are mostly black widows, from what I understand. They seduce the god touched and any powerful being they can, get everything they can put into their name, then kill the powerful being. Then they move on - rinse, repeat,” Ethan said.
“I’m neither rich nor powerful, so why did they come after me?” I asked.
“They must be tied into the missing god magic,” Matt said.
He reached out and took one of the lumps of cheese. I wanted to tell him to use a plate and show some manners when he bit into it, but Cade followed suit immediately after him.
“This cheese is incredible,” Matt said.
“It’s Cheshire cheese,” Cade said as he popped the last of his chunk in his mouth.
“Kit, you have to try this. It melts on your tongue,” Matt said.
“I’ll have some later, thanks,” I said.
“I agree with Matt, the witches must be tied into the god magic. They could be linked to the Hecate witch and the torch, too. They help Aphrodite grab power while remaining out of the public eye,” Ethan said.
“Why would Aphrodite need to form a doorway, though?” I asked.
“If there are riches or power to be gained on another plane, she might see it as worth it,” Ethan said.
“Or she could try and screw with their Underworld. It’s not as though she likes Hades,” Cade said.
I rubbed my temples. The games the gods played were exhausting.
“So, are you saying that we’re going to have to take on a goddess to fix this mess?” I asked.
“Not quite. Although I expect we’ll be dealing with their agents, the gods themselves can’t have a direct influence on anything other than their chosen,” Ethan said.
That was something. I really didn’t want to go toe to toe with Aphrodite herself.
“So, these witches are a clue to all of this? If we find out more about them and their whereabouts, we’ll make progress on this case?” I asked.
Ethan smiled.
“I believe so, yes.”
“Oh! I found out what the swirly symbol thing is tied into,” Matt said.
All eyes turned to him.
“It’s for allies of the hounds.”
Well, shit.
FORTY
“I think it would be best if you both stayed at the pack house for a while,” Ethan said.
“No,” I said as I crossed my arms.
It was bad enough that I was spending most of my time with him, but moving in with him was a hard no. He was dangerous, and I was already struggling to keep my hands off him and maintain a reasonable working relationship. Wandering down half asleep in the morning and seeing him what I assumed would be boxers and nothing else would push me over the edge. I began wondering if he slept naked and knew I was doomed.
“The witches attacked you once, there’s no reason to think they won’t do it again. What if there are more of them next time?” Ethan asked.
The roof began to creak in the wind, and an upstairs window rattled. Everyone gave me a pointed look.
“Are you sure this house will survive the storm tonight?” Cade asked.
“It’s been through plenty of storms,” I said.
“Do you have hot water at this pack house?” Matt asked.
I glared at him for being a traitor.
“Sure, you can both have a long bath. I’m sure Kerry has plenty of fancy bubble bath and whatever else girls put in baths,” Cade said with a shrug.
Matt looked at me expectantly. As far as he was concerned, this was a no brainer.
I grabbed his arm and tugged.
“We need to talk. Upstairs,” I said.
Matt sighed and followed me upstairs to my room. I shut the door. I wasn’t sure how good cu sith hearing was.
“Are you crazy!? You think we should spend the night in the pack house of a bunch of murderous black dogs!? The same beings that, by your own admission, would auction me off to the highest bidder if they ever find out what I am?” I demanded.
Matt rolled his eyes.
“Everyone can see the way Ethan looks at you. The safest place in this territory will be with him and his pack,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
“He’s a goddamn fae hound!”
“And you want into his boxers,” Matt said.
I threw my hands up.
“It’s one night, Kit. One night of hot water, tons of food, comfortable beds. They’ve been good to us so far,” Matt said.
“What about your shift at the bar?”
“No shift tonight.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Do you still have your job there? You seem to have a lot of nights off.”
“Ethan accepted me onto the alchemist apprenticeship programme this morning. I quit the bar,” Matt said refusing to look at me.
“So now you think he’s super awesome,” I said drily.
“Don’t give me that! You’re the one who kissed him and signed a contract saying you belong to him.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe here,” I growled.
“Let us have this for one night, Kit. One. Night.”
I rubbed my temples. One night with a long hot bath and a comfortable bed did sound really good. One night wouldn’t kill us. I hoped.
Thick blue-grey clouds carpeted the sky overhead as we got into the cars. I stuffed my backpack into the boot of Ethan’s sportscar while Matt gleefully hopped into Cade’s truck. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the first raindrops fell. I looked back at our old house with a pang of sadness. I’d grown up there. It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.
It was just one night.
“I’ve got Kerry trying to track down those witches. We’ll gather every bit of information we can on them tonight and then hunt them down tomorrow,” Ethan said.
The idea of hunting with the cu sith sent a shiver down my spine. It could easily be me that was running from the pack.
Ethan’s phone rang. He pressed the Bluetooth, and Dean’s voice came over the speaker.
“Boss, another god-magic-fuelled asshole just spotted at the scene of a brutal murder. Three fae mongrels were savaged, torn apart. Looks like the magic-fuelled guy burnt up and left nothing but a pile of ash.”
Ethan growled.
“We have people trying to track down who the guy was; no luck so far.”
“Keep me updated,” Ethan said before he hung up.
“So they’re still dealing. Any idea why it went quiet for a little bit there?” I asked.
“They could have run out of product,” Ethan said.
I closed my eyes for a moment. That ‘product’ was magic stolen from a god, a living breathing person. By all accounts, it was agonising to retrieve and collect.
Ethan placed his hand on my thigh and gave a gentle squeeze.
“We’ll do our best to make sure they don’t suffer any longer,” Ethan said softly.
I looked over to him.
“I thought you hunted the fallen?” I whispered.
He offered me a warm smile.
“No. Other cu sith do, but we only hunt those who have earnt death. If a fallen went on a murdering spree, then yes, we would hunt them. If they just live their lives as most do, we leave them alone. We’re not savage beasts.”
I found that I relaxed at his words. Maybe there was some hope for after all. Or maybe he was lulling me into a false sense of security.
FORTY-ONE
“Wait, you’re sure that symbol means the witches are allied with the hounds?” Kerry asked.
“Yes,” Matt said as he settled himself at the kitchen table.
“What the hell are the hounds doing allying with witches?” Cade asked.
“Nothing good,” Dean said with a growling rumble.
“It doesn’t make any sense. The hounds don’t like anyone but their own. They’ve killed witches for looking at them funny,” Ethan said as he placed a hot chocolate topped with a sinful number of marshmallows in front of me.
The rain was lashing against the windows. It had formed a heavy blanket across the moors, reducing visibility to nothing. A flash of brilliant lightning cut through the gloom, and a strong gust of wind howled across the gardens. It wasn’t so bad being inside a sturdy home where nothing rattled or threatened to break when the wind picked up.