by MJ Caan
He hit the ground face first, just as the bear dropped down onto all fours and advanced on us. Moving far quicker than I thought I could, I swept up the shotgun and placed the barrel directly under the beast’s snout. I fired. The recoil threw the gun out of my hands, but it also threw the bear backward as half of its face disappeared in the blast.
I dropped down on my ass, stunned. Gar rushed over to the officer’s side, and I could tell from the look on his face that he was about to be sick. I crawled over to the bloody mess that had only moments before saved both our lives.
“Shit!” said Gar. “What do we do?”
“I…I…don’t know!” My mind wasn’t focusing past all the gore in front of me. Part of me was starting to think—no, to hope—that none of this was real; that maybe I was home in bed, dreaming. But then movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and snapped me back to reality.
It was the bear. One paw was starting to twitch. I looked at the mangled head of the creature, and watched in dismay as it slowly began to reform. It was regenerating. Slowly, but it was regenerating nonetheless. I grabbed Gar by the shoulder and pulled him away from the creature.
“We have to go, Gar!” I shouted.
But it wasn’t his voice that answered.
“You bitch!” came a cry. I looked over Gar’s shoulder just in time to see the man in black come into the clearing, carrying the bear’s chain in one hand.
Fuck! This couldn’t be good. Before I could move, my nose wrinkled at the smell of burning ash and the strong stench of sulfur.
Gar and I both wheeled around in time to see the air behind us shimmer and somehow split apart. A small, circular tear was forming. It started out the same size as a frisbee and then widened, the edges glowing fiery red until it was about five feet in diameter. Aunt Vivian stepped through, straddling the breach and motioning for us to come to her.
“Bring the officer!” she shouted. “And get a move on; I’m not sure how long we can keep this open!”
Gar and I scooped Officer Hunter up, throwing his arms across each of our shoulders, and dragged him toward Aunt Vivian. When we reached her she helped us drag him into the portal. I chanced a look back just as the man in black was approaching the bear. He crouched down next to the behemoth and gently rubbed its back. He looked up at me, eyes narrowed and hard, brimming with tears, just as the air in front of me slammed shut and I felt my body pulled backward.
9
The feeling of being turned inside-out and upside-down at the same time only lasted for a split-second. Or it could have been an hour. I had the distinct sense of time stopping and restarting a couple hundred times before we were suddenly standing in my aunts’ study. Officer Hunter was still supported between me and Gar, and the sudden rush of vertigo that hit me made me buckle under his weight. I would have dropped him had Aunt Vivian not been there to help hold him up.
“Over here,” said Aunt Lena as she cleared the pillows off a large couch that sat against one side of the room. “Lay him here.”
Gar was able to place him on the couch, lying on his stomach. I got my first real look at Cody’s injuries and gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. Gar was speechless, his eyebrows raised in shock as he stared at the river of red that was pouring out of Cody’s back and spilling down onto the study floor. I had no idea what to do. I had taken a rudimentary first-aid class in school, but I don’t think it was meant to cover what to do in the event of a Were-Bear mauling.
“It’s okay,” said Aunt Vivian. “He’s going to be fine. Your aunt and I are going to get him fixed up.” She took me by my elbow and escorted me toward the study door. “But right now I need you and Gar to do something for me.”
She hurried over to a tall cabinet in the corner of the room, and removed two clear bottles filled with a milky white substance. She motioned for Gar to join us as she made her way back to me. Over her shoulder I could see Aunt Lena applying clean towels to Cody’s back that she had retrieved from the connecting bath.
“Take these—” Aunt Vivian shoved the bottles at my brother and me “—and go shower with them. Apply it liberally, and then wash it off. I don’t want that creature tracking your scent here.”
“It can do that?” I asked.
“You reek of magic right now. Don’t argue, just do as I say. Quickly!”
Gar and I exchanged looks but did as we were told. I heard his bedroom door slam as I hurried into my own, passing through it to the bathroom.
To be honest, the shower was just what I needed. The hot water soothed my knotted muscles, and whatever was in the elixir smelled pretty bad, but it also worked its way into my body and helped relax me even more. I did as she asked, covering myself in it and then rinsing it away.
After drying off, I decided not to mess with my hair, opting instead to just pull it back into a ponytail before making my way back to the study. Gar was already inside, his hair also wet and plastered to his head. How the hell do guys shower so fast? He seemed none the worse for wear, and was looking at the still form of Officer Hunter on the couch.
“Is he…?” I started, but couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“He’s fine,” said Aunt Lena. “Or at least he will be after a few hours’ sleep.”
I stepped over to the couch, and as I drew closer I could see that he was indeed breathing. Shallow and slow, but breathing nonetheless. His back was covered in white cloths, so I couldn’t see just what my aunts had done, but I was pretty sure it was something that would not have been found on WebMD. The fact that there was no blood seeping through the bandages testified to that.
My aunts both looked extremely tired.
“Gar,” I said, “can you go put on some tea for Aunt Vivian and Aunt Lena? They look like they could use it.”
“What? Of course…absolutely,” said Gar, practically running from the room.
“Okay,” I said, once my brother was out of earshot, “how is he really?”
“Like I said, he’s going to be fine,” said Aunt Lena. “The wounds he sustained were life-threatening. Had we not gotten him here so quickly he would have surely passed away. As it is, the healing spell we used was barely able to stitch him back together. It’s still trying to heal the internal damage he suffered.”
Aunt Vivian walked over to me. “Now, young lady, care to tell us just what the hell happened?”
“Not here,” interjected Aunt Lena. “He needs some uninterrupted downtime.” She motioned in Cody’s direction.
We headed downstairs to the large table in the kitchen and cups of hot tea, where Gar and I spent the next thirty minutes giving them the rundown on everything—from my ill-fated decision to visit the crime scene, up to the moment that our aunts appeared in a portal and whisked us away to safety. For once, I didn’t leave anything out, deciding that sharing the full truth was long overdue.
After vomiting all of that up, the four of us sat around the table in silence. I sipped my tea, waiting for the inevitable tongue lashing that I knew was on the way.
“Allie. Garland,” said Aunt Vivian. We both looked up, red in our eyes. “Are the two of you okay?”
I couldn’t hide my shock at her words, and I slowly nodded.
“Then that’s what matters,” Aunt Lena continued. “The ‘why’ and the ‘what were you thinking’ of your decision-making and secondary at this point. What you did was very brave.”
“And rash,” added Aunt Vivian, but the softness of her tone belied the harshness of the words. “But yes, we can deal with anything that happens moving forward. As a family.” She gave Aunt Lena a look and nodded. “No more secrets. It’s time we all sat down and had a very long, very frank discussion about things.”
Aunt Lena was nodding. “About damn time.”
“First, how did you find us?” I asked. “Gar, did you call them as well?”
He shook his head emphatically in response. “What, do you think I’m crazy?”
“Then how?” I said, glanc
ing at our aunts.
“Do you think you are the only one that can use a tracking spell?” replied Aunt Lena with a smirk. “In this case, the spell was embedded in the magic you were practicing.”
“What?” I asked. This made no sense to me.
Aunt Vivian smiled at me before speaking. “Do you really think that there were strangers on the internet that were teaching you magic, child?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but for once I had no idea what to say.
“The fact that you were researching magic online let us know just how serious you were about the craft. You know Anna Witenhouer, our neighbor a few houses down the street? She teaches computer science and has proven invaluable in helping us.”
“You’ve been snooping on me?” I said, trying to swallow my surprise and anger. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the color start to drain from Garland’s face.
“No, no,” said Aunt Lena quickly. “We would never spy on you. We have nothing but respect for your privacy. Long ago, we had certain keywords flagged on the computers for your own protection.”
“Yes,” added Aunt Vivian. “It’s a new world now. When we were your age, our mother booby-trapped the cabinets that had certain tomes and potions in them so she would know what we were getting into. This was the electronic version of that.”
Gar relaxed a little.
“So…all those spells I looked up? The online covens that were helping me learn?”
“All us,” said Aunt Lena proudly, waving her hand to indicate herself and her sister. “While most of what you find on the internet is utter rubbish when it comes to true magic, you were digging into areas you shouldn’t have been. So we decided to lead you to certain safer aspects of the craft.”
“Yes. If you’re going to dabble, we needed to know what you were doing,” said Aunt Vivian.
“Let’s just say you were riding with training wheels,” said Aunt Lena. “But now, in light of what’s happening, it’s time for the trainers to come off.”
“And that means we need to tell you and Garland everything,” said Aunt Vivian.
Despite finally hearing what I’d been waiting for most of my life, I couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of trepidation that swept over me.
10
We all sat around the large dining room table with fresh cups of tea. Aunt Lena assured me it wasn’t laced with anything and that they would not be tampering with our memories. I felt like a heel for even having to ask, but hey, lesson learned.
“So first, why were you so adamant that I wasn’t attacked by a zombie?” I asked. “You almost had me doubting my own eyes.”
“Because you weren’t,” said Aunt Lena. “What attacked you was not a member of the walking dead.”
“You were attacked by the same type of creature that nearly killed the two of you today at the falls,” added Aunt Vivian.
“That was a Shifter, right?” said Gar.
“Correct,” said Aunt Vivian. “What attacked Allie in the coffee shop was a Shifter that had not been able to complete its transformation. It was stuck in the gray zone between forms. When a sShifter changes from form to form, the body it is wearing temporarily dies in the transition. For most Shifters, the change happens nearly instantaneously, so you don’t notice. That rotting smell you picked up on was the decaying dead flesh of the creature’s humanity. It was stuck and couldn’t complete the Shift.”
“Why?” I asked, simultaneously intrigued and grossed out.
“That’s part of a much larger topic,” said Aunt Lena.
“You said no more secrets,” I reminded them.
“Very well,” said Aunt Lena. “Shifting is a form of magic that was forbidden many years ago. As part of that forbidding, a spell was created that undid, or blocked, the magic that flowed in this world that allowed Shifting to happen. When Shifters were cut off from that free-flowing magic, they were stuck in the form they occupied. Some were in human form while others remained in their animal states.”
“So I was attacked by a bear shifter in the coffee shop as well? But what…it was a shifter in training?”
“Something like that,” said Aunt Vivian. “Now, the spell that prevents Shifting is starting to unravel. Either it is decaying, which I doubt, or it is under attack by someone intent on breaking it. I believe that the creature that attacked you was the first attempt by whoever is behind this to bring Shifting back into the world. They didn’t quite get it right. Until today.”
“Are there other types of Shifters? Other than just bears I mean?” Gar asked.
“Yes. There are all manners of animal Shifters out there,” replied Aunt Lena.
“Including werewolves?” Gar said.
“Werewolves are a breed unto themselves among the Shifter populace,” said Aunt Lena.
“They are one of the few Shifters capable of taking on a hybrid form of animal and man, while retaining all the intellect and instinct of both. They are the alphas of the Shifter world, and the most dangerous,” said Aunt Vivian. “But they are also not something you have to worry about.”
“Why’s that?” asked Gar.
“They are extinct. Shifters are born, not created. That holds true even for werewolves. The last remaining werewolves were erased from the population long ago,” said Aunt Lena.
“How do you know that for sure?” I asked, eying my aunts suspiciously.
“Because we, along with your mother, killed them all,” said Aunt Vivian matter-of-factly.
“I knew it!” cried out Gar. “All those stories our mother told us about how she destroyed the wolves were true!”
“But why?” I asked. My memories of my mother were always a little fuzzy, but I remembered the stories she told, stories that involved wielding immense magic and spells that defeated great evils—those evils being werewolves. But years later, I always thought they were just stories. Even though I believed in our family magic, I didn’t believe in monsters.
“And how?” added Gar. “How exactly did you kill all the wolves?”
“The old-fashioned way, I’m afraid,” said Aunt Lena. Was that a bit of sadness that had crept into her voice?
They were both silent as we sipped our tea. I could sense that it wasn’t the right moment to rush them. After a couple of minutes, Aunt Vivian spoke up.
“Magic,” she began, “is not what you see on television or the movies. It isn’t something that someone studies for years and learns. Its origins are supernatural, and like all things supernatural, you’re either born into it or you aren’t. In our case, magic has flowed through this family for generations, passed down from mother to daughter.”
“About that,” said Gar. “Why no love for the men?”
“Males belong to a different point on the mystical spectrum,” said Aunt Lena. “Much of the magic we witches perform is grounded in nature. We draw our power from Mother Earth itself. The very nature of a male’s biology cuts them off from that maternal connection to the life giving forces around them. But magic can present itself in strange ways, so you never know.” She added a wink, and Gar smiled back at her before settling back to sip more of his tea.
“So we come from a long line of witches then?” I asked.
“Yes. And we have always been here, in this same town, for many generations,” said Aunt Vivian. “You see, Trinity Cove has been home to magic for years beyond remembering. The town is built on the conflux of ley energies. Ley lines, ley tides, ley rhythms, and ley stones. It is what allows magic to thrive and flow so effortlessly here.”
“Wait, if that’s the case, then why are we the only witches in town?” I asked.
“Oh, we aren’t,” replied Aunt Vivian. “Witches have lived here dating back to the first colonies that came over to the New World.”
“Before that,” chimed in Lena. “The American Indians that were here before us had a very powerful spiritual connection to nature. They respected and worshipped it.”
“Yes.” Aunt Vivian nodded. “Quite true.
But the practice of magic has all but disappeared in the last generation. Your generation.”
I felt a blush creep up my neck as I fidgeted with my teacup, purposely avoiding eye contact with anyone. “Why?” I mumbled.
Again, Aunt Lena and Aunt Vivian exchanged serious looks.
“Go on,” said Aunt Lena. “Tell her.”
Aunt Vivian took a deep breath before continuing. “Long before you were born, when your mother and the two of us were small, witches raised their daughters in the age old practice of witchcraft. It was tradition. Magic itself flowed freely here in the Cove. We lived peacefully, not harming anyone or anything.”
“And it wasn’t just us,” said Aunt Lena. “We lived side by side with the Shifters, and with other magical folk as well. Trinity Cove was ground zero for all manners of supernaturals, and we abided by certain unspoken rules and lived in peace.”
“But surely not everyone was a supernatural,” said Gar.
“No, no,” replied Aunt Vivian. “There were more humans than supernaturals, of course. Some of them knew about us; some of them didn’t want to know and looked the other way. But we all tolerated one another equally. And then that changed.”
Although we were completely wrapped up in her tale, her sudden ominous tone grabbed Gar and me in a visceral grip. “What happened?” I asked.
“Our quiet little hamlet was shattered by the arrival of a man: a warlock unlike any we had ever seen before,” said Aunt Lena.
“I thought men couldn’t be witches?” said Gar, beating me to the punch.
“No, we said men can’t be born into magic,” replied Aunt Vivian. “Certain men can take magic from other sources, control it, shape it, use it for nefarious purposes. But they aren’t born with it. They can’t tap into it naturally. Think of them as having an arcane gas tank that they can fill and top off with magic. But it’s a limited amount, and once they use it, it’s gone. They have to fill up again.”