Fangtastic Four

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Fangtastic Four Page 9

by R. L. Merrill


  Gus cursed and struggled against the purple smoky bonds that held him. Bertram was locked in a cage suspended above a magic fire and was fading fast.

  “Who’s there?” Woodrow called out. He hopped out of my arms even as I scrambled to hold onto him.

  “Woodrow, no!”

  But it was too late. He was yanked forward and onto a floating table and strapped down. Above him, a swinging axe grew closer to him with every swipe.

  “A pendulum? How original.” I composed myself and stood with my arms crossed over my chest. “And the disembodied voice is pathetic. Just show yourself so we can get on with it.”

  A deep, booming female laugh sounded from all four corners of the room. “And give myself away? You must think me incompetent, something you know all about.”

  My shoulders hunched the slightest bit, but then I recovered.

  “I do know about incompetence. I also know about ignorance, insensitivity, intolerance…lots of ‘in’ words. In fact, my vocabulary is quite strong. Now, are you planning to explain yourself or are you just here to show off?”

  A blast of heat shot through the dungeon, which I’d never experienced before in this manor, and Bertram whimpered in his cell.

  “I’ve come seeking answers.”

  I held out my hands. “Happy to answer once you let my friends go.”

  “They are accomplices to this abomination and shall therefore be punished.”

  “Not gonna happen.” I might not be sure about my magic, but if this woman insisted on continuing this bullshit, I would throw down as fiercely as I used to physically fight back in Thale. I’d become quite scrappy. That experience would serve me well in kicking her ass. Whoever she was, she was going down.

  Chapter Ten

  Gus

  * * *

  It seemed my mate had a little more control over her magic than we’d previously thought. Atta girl.

  “You’ve only just had your magic returned to you. How do you propose to protect your loved ones from me? Perhaps I’ll whip up another curse, this time on all of you. Think of the damage I could do to this magical community you’ve been hiding in?”

  “You made a fatal mistake, coming here,” Wilma said. “I will destroy you before I let you harm a hair on anyone’s head in my town.”

  There was a massive growl and the darkness flew toward Wilma, enveloping her in the haze—and then it vanished.

  Along with my mate.

  “Wilma!”

  Bertram’s moans caught my attention. “Bert? Hang in there, buddy. We’re going to get you out.”

  But every time I fought against the snake-like purple strands, they moved and renewed their hold on me.

  “These bonds will not break until the magic is broken.” Bertram sounded hopeless.

  “You gotta have faith in her, man. You’re fading away.”

  “It’s no use,” he said.

  He was barely visible. I couldn’t let this happen.

  “Bert! Remember in your film A Room in Paris? That situation also seemed hopeless, and do you recall what you said?”

  “Gus, my dear, you’re forgetting that I was a silent film star.”

  “But there was dialogue. Remember? That ending scene?”

  Bertram sighed and lifted his chin. “‘The sun will rise again, bringing with it a new dawn, a new hope, and together we shall rise with it to fight for truth and justice and all that is right with the world.’ Is that the speech you’re after?”

  Just his recitation of that dialogue gave him a bit more of a presence.

  “Yes! Keep going. Give me the bit from A Dame for Daniel, you know, the part when you rescue the damsel in distress from the railroad tracks?”

  Bertram straightened up and with his voice strong, he spoke the triumphant words that made the villain cower and allowed him to rescue the heroine before she met her demise.

  With each stanza, he perked up until he was back to his full strength. Then he noticed Woodrow.

  “While I love a good victory speech,” Woodrow squeaked out, “I could really use a hand here.” The pendulum was getting closer and closer to his little furry belly. He’d sucked it in as best he could, but the poor guy was about to be eviscerated.

  “Bertram, can you try to slip through the bars? Is that even something you can do?”

  He pulled himself to his full height and began to chant.

  “What are you doing?”

  He closed his eyes. “While I may not be able to do magic, I shall try to call on those who can.”

  His voice reverberated around the stone walls as the axe got closer and closer to poor Woodrow. I continued to struggle and lose. We needed an intervention, and fast.

  Stones exploded into the room—and from a gaping hole to the right of me came the army of stuffed creatures, led by my frenemy the bear.

  “Hey, whoa, Bert! He’s the reason I’m here.”

  “Yes, well, I’m afraid that’s my fault.”

  I blinked. “You called him before?”

  Bertram sighed. “I did. I thought I could call them to me without drawing the attention of my captor.” He put a hand to his mouth. “Oops.”

  “No worries. But can they actually help?”

  At that moment, the bear approached and I shut my eyes when he raised his claw.

  I felt the air from his swipe, and when I looked down, the purple strands had been severed, although they were still snaking around, trying to rejoin. I sprang from the chair I’d been tied to and brushed off the remaining pieces of tendrils.

  “Thanks,” I said to the bear.

  And he winked at me.

  “Weird. Okay.”

  “Help Woodrow,” Bertram shouted. The bucks were going at his bars with their huge racks, trying to pry them apart enough for him to slip through.

  I rushed over to Woodrow and reached for him, but the moment I touched his straps, I was shocked.

  “Dammit! Bertram, I can’t touch it.”

  “Hold on,” he said—and I jumped when I realized he was right next to me. “Let me just…would you mind?”

  Before I could speak, he stepped into my body. I opened my mouth to protest and some weird noises came out. I watched helplessly as Bertram used my arms to undo the latch, my hand burning from the contact.

  “I’m sorry, my dear,” I heard Bertram say inside my head. “You can shout at me later.”

  I looked down to see the skin burning off of my hand and I shrieked in my head, but Bertram continued to unfasten the straps with as much speed as he could. A second later, Woodrow sprang from the table just as the axe dropped blade-first onto the spot he’d occupied.

  “Thank heavens,” he shouted, checking his body for any evidence he’d been cut.

  Bertram stepped out of me and I collapsed, clutching my now-smoking hand to my chest.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Gus, but I had to override your body’s natural fight-or-flight reflex. It would have taken too much time for you to determine the pain was worth the sacrifice.

  “Right,” I said, my head lolling to the side. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Quick! Get him to the kitchen for some sustenance.”

  The bear picked me up again and together we ran with Bertram and Woodrow hot on our heels. We got to the kitchen and the bear dropped me into a chair. Bertram handed me a bottle of Heifferenessy and I downed it, immediately feeling warmth in my hand as the tissues knit back together. Within moments, my burns were healed and the pain was gone.

  “We’ve got to find Wilma.” I began to pace, desperate to find my mate. Why hadn’t I told her how I felt before all of this chaos? Would I get the chance to tell her?

  “I’m on it,” Woodrow said. “I’ll locate her. But we need to have a plan. That Germanic hexen has tapped into the wards of this place, Bertram. We’re going to need a miracle to defeat her.”

  A purple puff of smoke appeared and we all coughed. A Cooper’s hawk flew toward the ceiling and then out of the haze stepped a go
rgeous woman in…lederhosen?

  “I’ve been dying to try this on. What do you think?”

  Bertram bowed to the woman. “Your Excellency, thank you for coming.”

  She sniffed at him. “Thank you to whoever got past your wards for giving me an excuse. Well, that and Zelda called me. I’ve been dying to get a look in this place since Winnifred moved in. I love what you’ve done with the renovations.”

  Jules stepped out of the corner zipping up her pants. “Thanks for the warning, lady. That purple shit is nasty.” She coughed a few times and then crossed her arms over her chest. “Where’s my best friend, fanger?”

  “Thank you for coming,” I said, doing my awkward attempt at a bow. “Wilma’s in trouble and we could use some magical assistance.”

  Mac came running in. “Is everyone all right?”

  Just then, the ceiling turned black and I caught a glimpse of Wilma’s bright hair.

  “Amor!”

  She was wrestling with a…robe? I saw no head or hands, just the black satin garment.

  “Ooo fight! Fight! Fight!” Carol pumped her fist in the air and cackled. “I love a good girl fight. You know those German hexen are known for their preference for hand-to-hand combat.” Then Carol frowned as she flicked some sparks at the dueling pair.

  Wilma shouted and the entire mass of black robes and strawberry-blonde hair came crashing to the ground. I darted forward and caught Wilma.

  “Thanks,” she said. She kissed my cheek and hopped down, at the ready to fight again.

  “Now that I have your attention,” Carol said. “Show yourself.”

  The robed figure struggled against Carol’s purple smoke bonds and tried to get away but they were too strong.

  “So you’re going to play it that way? Very well.”

  Carol walked over to the figure and pulled the robe back from its face. Everyone gasped. Jules swore.

  “Jack Russell?”

  The shifter growled and struggled some more. “That’s right! I can’t have this washed-up witch giving away my airtime!”

  Wilma’s mouth fell open. “You mean to tell me that you did this? You hurt the people I care about so you could have more your time at the station? All you had to do was ask, you moron!”

  “I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to take over W-ASS. That station should have been mine, but you came along with your fancy German money and bought everything, including this house! You swooped right in and crushed my dreams. I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for your meddling assistant.”

  “That’s right,” Jules said, planting her hands on her hips. “I found your emails to someone in Germany and used Google translate to see what you were up to!”

  “I knew it,” said Carol. “There’s no way you did this all by yourself.”

  Jack hung his head. “You’re right. I had help.”

  Suddenly, Jack blurred and a transparent figure separated from him.

  Wilma blinked and rubbed at her split lip. I’d smelled her blood but it hadn’t sent me into a frenzy. Progress?

  “Elke Wind?” she asked incredulously.

  “That’s right. The Wetter Curse was never to be broken. What you have done is verboten! My grandmother, Agnes Wind, swore the Wetters would pay for their misdeeds for eternity!”

  “Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Wilma said. She bent over laughing and the woman’s face screwed up in rage. “You’ve come from Thale then? From the Harz Mountains?”

  I tried to keep my composure. The witch’s voice chilled me to my undead bones, but Wilma was so brave. She continued to mock the witch, who was losing her cool.

  “Your change sent a shockwave through the hexen community in Thale and I was sent to destroy you once and for all, the last of the Wetter scourge.”

  Wilma held out her hands. “Happy to see you try.”

  “Wilma,” I warned, but she held out a hand to me.

  The translucent witch smiled. “I shall look forward to making all of your friends suffer before I terminate you.”

  I was desperate to intervene. I couldn’t chance her being hurt, but I had to go along with my mate, I had to support her, and I could tell this evil woman did not like being laughed at. Maybe a distraction would be all Wilma needed to make her move.

  “What are you, some sort of lame magic version of Arnold Schwarzenegger?”

  She turned her sneer on me and that was all the time Wilma needed.

  Streaks of white light shot from Wilma’s fingertips. She hauled her fist back and was ready to throw them at the invader, but Carol jumped between them.

  “Hold up,” Carol said. “As satisfying as it would be for you to kick this witch bitch’s ass, she’s going to face the witch council and I want her in one piece.” She looked Wilma up and down. “Although, I’d put good money on you winning.”

  “You fool!” Elke spit at Carol. “I have diplomatic immunity!”

  “And now she’s the evil South African from Lethal Weapon Two,” I said with a laugh. I couldn’t help it. She was such a caricature of evil, it was impossible to take her seriously.

  Carol snorted. “I hated that guy.”

  “You can’t touch me,” the witch shouted with less vigor. Her voice had shifted into a whine.

  Carol shot purple sparks at her and her essence turned into smoke, which was sucked into a bottle.

  “She bores me. Anyone who’s a part of a multigenerational curse deserves to be punished. It’s just wrong. Punish the person who’s responsible, sure. Not the whole fam damily. Now, I’m taking her up north to the council, and if she’s found guilty of conspiracy, she’ll serve hard time in the witch pokey.”

  “That’s for real?” I asked. I reached out for Wilma, but I was zapped when I came into contact with her.

  “Gus!”

  “I’m all right,” I said.

  She shook out her hands and then reached for me. No shocks this time.

  “Yep. Ask Zelda all about it,” Carol continued.

  Wilma ducked her head. “Zelda isn’t happy with me.”

  Carol snorted. “When is she ever happy?”

  Mac grunted. “You can say that again.”

  “Look, your hexen magic is different than ours over here. It’s…offensive, and I mean that in the nicest way. Even though I know what it is, I still want to kick your ass up and down the street. But I digress. I have an idea of how you two can work things out—which you’ll need to, because you’re going to be working together.”

  “I’ll do anything,” Wilma said.

  “For now,” Carol said, “let’s get out of this dungeon, do some triage, and get the fang boys some moo juice. I’ve already got Jacob and Vinny chilling out up there. Apparently that passage you read turned them into snarling beasts. Jacob even tried to bite me, that mangy mutt. He’s lucky he has a nice ass or I would have turned him into one. Take your time getting upstairs. Then we’ll talk.”

  Everyone started to leave, but I reached for Wilma and pulled her to me.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” she said. “I tried to reach out through our bond, but it was so weak and—”

  “I love you,” I blurted out. “I should have told you before. I love you, I want this mating, I want to spend my life with you.”

  She smiled around her swollen lip and pushed back her mane of messy hair. “You love me? You really— Oh! I’m a mess! I wanted to be all glamorous when we finally—”

  “You’ll always be beautiful to me. You’ve never been more beautiful than when you were kicking that guy’s…girl’s…ass? I don’t even know for sure what happened, but damn, amor. I want you. I want you so bad.”

  She beamed at me. Absolutely beamed. “Trust me to try something?” she asked.

  “I trust you with my life.”

  She laughed. “That’s a good thing, because I don’t know if this will work. But hold on.”

  She wrapped her arms around me and closed her eyes. A tiny crease f
ormed between her eyebrows and she whispered something in German. Then we were flying through space in tiny molecules. A second later, we landed with a soft thud in our shared bathroom.

  “Whoa,” I said, stumbling a bit. “You just teleported us!”

  She shrugged. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything.”

  “Anything?” I wiggled my eyebrows.

  She grinned, blinked once, and then we were both deliciously naked.

  “You have the best tricks,” I said. I leaned in to kiss her and she put a hand between us.

  “Wait! Let me…” She pressed a hand to her mouth, said a quick spell, and when she removed it, her swollen lip was healed. “Better to kiss you with, my darling.”

  And boy did we kiss. We didn’t rush, even though we were probably expected for the debrief. Then I remembered her big fluffy bed.

  “Hey, can you do that teleporter trick again?”

  “Where to?”

  I ran my hands over her scrumptious derriere and moaned. “Read my mind, Mate.”

  She narrowed her eyes and then she laughed.

  “I did promise you we’d be there soon.”

  She blinked again and we found ourselves buried in a mountain of fluffy pillows and blankets on the softest bed I’d ever experienced.

  “I love your promises.”

  I kissed her deeply and pulled her beneath me. She opened her thighs to accommodate me.

  “I love you, Gus.”

  This was it. Our consummation. What would it mean?

  “It can’t be any wilder than you fanging me for the third time, turning me into a vampire, and breaking my curse.”

  “Oh, I’m going for fangtastic four, baby. I’m going to love you—wait!”

  She laughed. “Now what? No more waiting.”

  I rolled her over on top of me and she sat up. “This. I want to have you like in our dream.”

  She straddled my hips and sank down, taking me inside her slowly, setting me on fire with her heat.

  “You’re my dream come true,” she said, bending down to kiss me, and that was the last coherent thing we said to each other.

  I’m sure I told her I loved her a million times, and I would continue to tell her over and over. We made love for hours, each time better than before, and when the sun started to rise, I fell asleep in her arms the happiest man—well, muse turned vampire—on the planet.

 

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