by Faith Hunter
Ed’s voice was right behind me. “I do not know, my queen. She was not with him while he was . . . flaying me for his use.”
I turned to him, his scars visible even in the uncertain light. “Because she was in New Orleans burning the vamp graveyard?”
Thoughts flashed behind Ed’s eyes. “Sabina?”
“Don’t know. She was trying to get away the last time she contacted us. But if she’s burned she’ll need to drink and regenerate.”
Alex said, “According to cams, there are twenty fangheads surrounding the property, plus the leader, for a total of twenty-one. The outclan. And four humans. That’s the ones I can see, and they just suddenly showed up on the screens.”
“How did they get so close?” Eli asked.
“Beats me. They avoided the sensors somehow. Sending locations to your tablet.”
Eli pulled his tablet and tapped it awake. The small screen was covered with camera feeds, and he swiped one that gave an overview of the sensors that were lighting up the security system. There were twenty-two different spots of light in a rough circle that correlated to the Everhart witch ward. Farther back were four smaller spots. The humans, probably out of the way, waiting to feed any wounded vamps after the battle. “How?” Eli asked again. “They were hidden under movable wards? Without a witch to open and maintain them? They came in over the trees? How? We have motion sensors. Lasers. Cameras everywhere.”
Alex said, “I don’t like this.”
“Senza onore,” Edmund said. “She is strong.”
“Then why hasn’t she burned us out already?” I growled.
If the ward failed under the onslaught, we’d have twenty vamps and a pyro inside with us. So of course it started to snow again, making vision difficult. The ward was permeable to air, snow, and rain. Lucky us. But something wasn’t right. I said, “Vamp speed? If they knew where the sensors were, could they speed through and the device think it was a glitch?”
“No,” Eli said shortly.
I spotted three of the twenty. Then a fourth. I moved through the snow to the witch ward and the Everharts. The witches’ sweat was strong on the night air, drenched in the reek of fear and the stench of anxiety and struggle, as if they fought a battle they had already lost. “If the ward falls,” I said to them, “stay put. I’ll keep you safe.”
“The kids,” Molly managed, her face running with sweat. The snow around her had melted down to the muddy earth. Earth magics warring with powerful death magics.
“Lincoln and Brute have them. They’re safe.”
She nodded, sweat staining her clothes and sticking her hair to her face. All the witches were showing strain.
“Hang on, Molly.”
She didn’t nod this time but I knew she understood, because tears started at the corners of her eyes. She had been through the wringer in the last bit. Her home had burned. Her mother, sister, and toddler niece were in danger. And . . . If Molly and her family had been at home, they would likely be dead in the pyro’s fire. It would have been Molly, her husband, and the children against these creatures. I wouldn’t have had time to get to her. And she would have used her death magics.
The gonging increased, harder, faster, pounding louder, even over the protection of Evan’s spell music and the circle’s casting. It hurt my ears. Lightning shot upward from the ground at the outer ward, to meet in the center with a thunder of sound.
Beast. We’re going to have timewalk, I thought.
Jane will die.
I’m gonna timewalk in half-form.
Jane will die.
A single pure GONG sounded and the ward shivered. My hand tightened on the Glob and I drew a vamp-killer, slightly curved steel blade, the back flat and fuller, all silver-plated to poison any vamp I cut.
Light and power and the stench of ozone and burning rubber billowed out from the ward like noxious steam. Molly was crying, shaking, fighting calling on her death magics. But if there was any time to use them, now seemed like it. I opened my mouth to tell her to use her magics.
A shower of sparks fell from overhead. A burst of golden light shot through the ward.
And the ward fell.
Six shots rang out. Not one of the enemy vampires dropped. Not possible for Shiloh, Kojo, and Thema all to miss at this distance. But they did.
The vampires attacked, sprinting toward the inn. Unbloodied. Vamped out. Mouths open in silent battle cries.
I rushed forward, muscle memory taking over. My half-form swept the vamp-killer back and forward in one smooth motion. I took the head of the first vampire. Felt no resistance. The bloodsucker rushed forward, head still attached. I stopped. Whirled. The vamp was fine. How had . . . “It’s an illusion,” I shouted. But how many were illusion and how many were real? I dashed to another, slashed my vamp-killer across him. He kept going.
“A figment working,” Molly called, her voice pained. “I can’t tell how many.”
Shiloh, Kojo, and Thema were still firing, but no vampires fell.
I raced to another. And another. None fell. I tore at the Flayer himself. He stood still, tall and beautiful. Smiling. I barreled into him. Leading with my blade. The silver-plated steel sliced through him. There was no resistance. Nothing. I fell beyond him, nearly tumbling. And that was when I realized he wasn’t there either. Even he was an illusion. A human-looking one with no exoskeleton. Created by someone who hadn’t seen the Flayer recently.
“Holy crap,” I snarled, my paw-feet sliding on the snow. Even if I bubbled time—
From behind the house I heard a scream that was part bell, part raw terror. Soul. She was in the creek. Outside the ward that was no more. I pulled on Beast-speed but that wasn’t enough. I reached for the Gray Between and the power that let me slide through time.
I hit something. Or it hit me. Vamp-fast. Like slamming into the proverbial brick wall. Head first. Didn’t see it coming. Didn’t see it disappear. Head spinning, stars like snowflakes on a black background. I tried to catch myself but . . . I was already lying on the ground. In a snowdrift. I sat up too fast. Reeling. Nauseated. I put a hand to my side and my palm came away black in the darkness. Bleeding. The something—whatever it was—had cut me. My blood splashed across the whiteness of snow, two splotches. My vision was wonky, cross-eyed, and I couldn’t make it align. My ears came back on and I heard a muffled distant screaming. I made it to my knees and stumbled uphill to the front of the house.
The Everhart witches were gone, the circle a charred, muddy ring. The hedge of thorns was gone, a bigger charred, muddy circle around the inn.
Ed and Eli were gone. The scent of their blood rode on the air, carried over the cat-stink of my own blood. There was no one around me. Except a body in the snow. The smell told me it wasn’t one of ours. Vamp. Dead. I wouldn’t risk touching a booby-trapped corpse and left it there.
I found the front of the dark inn in the night. Not where I thought it would be. I’d somehow been moved. Or thrown, fifty feet, at least. I smelled something burning on the air. I staggered toward the house. The front door was hanging open. The lights were out.
I reeled up the stairs. I had lost my vamp-killer. And a lot of blood. My pants were drenched. But I had enough of my wits to get inside and put my back against the wall beside the door. Hoping my eyes would align, my belly would settle, and I would adjust to the darker, warmer world of the inn. I pulled a nine-millimeter, hoping I wouldn’t have to try to aim. Lots of hopes in there.
Molly wailed.
I pointed the weapon at the floor, closed one eye, and followed the sound of her grief and fury to the suites in the right wing of the inn. Molly, now silent, was sitting on the bed holding a screaming baby. Big Evan sat beside her, silent. Completely silent, and very, very still, holding Angie in one arm, the other around his wife.
I looked around for EJ.
He was gone.
&
nbsp; That was why Molly had been screaming. Her son had been stolen. Again.
I fell. A slow unchecked arc, to the floor.
* * *
* * *
“This is why the fangheads came. To get a witch kid. And an arcenciel.” It was Molly’s voice, her tone so full of fury it was vibrating. I tried to open my eyes, but the pain in my middle was too great. My eyes wouldn’t open. I was so tired. . . .
“They used a figment working,” Alex said. “Five of them were real; all the others, including the outclan priestess, were illusions. Really good ones. They mimicked the results I’d expect on infrared and low light. There was no way you could tell the reality from the fakes.”
Except for the missing exoskeleton. Shimon had looked human and I had missed the differences until my sword whipped through him.
“Jane is awake.” Bruiser. Voice soft. “Thank you, Edmund.”
“A little blood is nothing.”
“She would have died if not for you. So might Lincoln.”
“Would that I could lay down my life for my queen.” When Ed spoke again, it was a whisper, horror in his voice. “Would that I had protected your son. I am foresworn.”
“No,” Big Evan said, his words paced and tight, “not your fault.”
“Not your fault, my Edmund,” Angie said, her voice thick with tears.
I heard movement, but from my position on the floor I had no idea who was doing what. “How . . .” I stopped. Licked very dry lips. Tasted Ed’s vamp blood, salty and tart, which I had missed in the shock of waking. I managed to get my eyes open and tried again. “How did it happen?”
His voice a monotone, so like his brother’s voice when upset, Alex said, “Deconstruction of the attack: While we were being distracted in front and all around the perimeter of the ward by illusion vamps, two fangheads—the one you call Legolas and the ginger-haired one—came in by way of the creek and chained Soul in a crystal.”
Five vampires had done all this? Gotten in through the wards? Nearly killed so many of us? “They got Soul?” I asked, because that couldn’t be true. She could get free. She had a spell that could be targeted from inside, to break a crystal. “Where was Gee during all this?”
“Don’t know. And yeah,” Eli said. “They got her.”
Alex said, “Then they knocked out the power to the house.”
“I hadn’t had time to move it from a single power source to solar and battery redundancies.” Eli sounded cold and quiet and utterly furious.
“The Everhart sisters found what they’re calling a magical sonic drum near the north point of the hedge,” Alex continued, “some kind of a onetime-use device to break a hedge of thorns. Wouldn’t have worked on a small, tight personal hedge, but a bigger one, like the one over the inn, or over the Everhart homes, has weak spots. Even an Everhart hedge.”
Big Evan looked up at the Everhart witches, his arm still around his daughter, her face buried in his shoulder. “We have to find out how that device works and who’s building them. We have to find a way to strengthen our wards against them.” He sounded guilty, as if he had failed.
“Not your fault,” I said. It was mine. Every last bit of it was my fault.
“Shiloh’s a decent sniper. She took down a fanghead out front,” Eli said. “Silver-lead rounds. I sent Thema to decapitate him.” Eli paused, breathing slowly. “When the hedge fell, they came in through the back and cut Lincoln in half. Nearly killed him. If it wasn’t for Shiloh and Edmund . . .” More softly he said, “They took the kid.”
“Not your fault, either,” I managed, feeling for my belly and the deep gash that had been there. I encountered only bloody clothing and smooth flesh. It was still tender and felt like I was brushing ground glass across it when I touched the fresh scar. But I’d live.
“They raced in through the fallen ward,” Evan said, “timewalking. They cut Lincoln. Stabbed the werewolf with silver. And took my son.”
Alex said, “They didn’t move like Janie. They were less timewalking and more time-skipping. Here and then gone and reappearing a moment later in a different spot.”
Angie pushed away from her father’s arms. She was sweat-soaked and the stench of her anger burned the air. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I tried to save us. But EJ wouldn’t wake up. I carried the baby to Unca Lincoln, who was hurt. I opened a ward over them. I was going back to get EJ, but . . .” Tears spilled down her face. “The vampires got there first. I couldn’t save my brother.”
“No, sweetums. This is not your fault.” Big Evan pulled a hankie from his pocket and wiped his daughter’s face. “Not your fault. Not at all.”
“It is. The vampires put a light on us. I made mine go out, but EJ’s chest was glowing like a light.”
“A witch finder,” Big Evan said softly. Pressing the handkerchief into Angie Baby’s hand, he looked up to me. He reached up and removed a leather thong from around his neck. Hanging from it, a marble was encased in a macramé basket, looking remarkably like the one in EJ’s pocket. I blinked at it. “Witch finders are devices that draw on an unshielded witch’s personal energies and glow so they can be tracked. They were used extensively in the Dark Ages during the fangheads’ ethnic cleansing of witches, but we’ve never seen one here. The moment the hedge fell, the vamps knew where my children were.” With a finger he spun the marble and said, “Persequor.” In Beast’s sight, I saw a tendril of power flow from the witch into the marble. It glowed brightly and pulled hard to the left. “It’s following EJ. Following the matching marble charm he has in his pocket.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “Right. The charm.” Hope of finding EJ shot through me. “I could take that and track him in animal form.”
Hope and then anguish flashed across Big Evan’s face. He said, “No. It’s tied to me, to my magic. If I had the time, I could modify it and make that work, but . . . we don’t have time.” The marble went dim and stopped moving. The big witch stank of rage and frustration and helplessness. The entire room stank of fury and guilt and failure, the stench coming from all of us. “The full diameter of the tracking device is only one mile. They just passed that.” Evan looked down at me. “He was moving north at speed.”
“North,” I whispered. Better than nothing.
Molly shoved to her feet, raced from the suite, and outside. I pulled myself to my feet and followed, leaning on the wall for support. She was standing on the back stoop. She screamed. Her death magics rippled out, a wavering, half-controlled beam of black light. The three evergreen fir trees nearest the tree line began to wither. To dry. They crumbled. A dozen closer to the sweathouse browned and dropped needle leaves; bark cracked and fell.
Evan set me aside as if I weighed less than his daughter and began to play his flute, the same kind of soothing anti-magic he had made for were-creatures. The Everhart witch clan all appeared, human and witch sisters, gathering on the stoop to huddle behind Big Evan. The witch twins were enraged, magics boiling around them like heat off a hot road. The human sisters were carrying enough firepower to supply a platoon of warriors, and both girls sported bruises. Their eyes look odd. I wondered fleetingly if the vamps had knocked them out getting to EJ.
Angie threw her arms around my hips and I slid down the wall to cradle her on my lap. “It’s my fault. The bad guy came in so fast,” Angie whispered, tears shining in her eyes. “Brute jumped on him, but the other vampire man got behind the werewolf and hurt him bad. I picked up Cassy. EJ was running to us. But the bad man grabbed my brother. He put a hand over EJ’s face so he couldn’t scream.” Her face crumpled, her tears flowing freely.
My hands fisted. I wanted to hit something, but I had to be calm and controlled. Adult.
Angie said, “I screamed and opened a protection ward over Cassy and Unca Shaddock and me. He . . . he . . . he . . .” Her words stuttered into a sob and she wiped her tear-streaked face before she could continue. “The man sa
id he’d give me EJ if I gave him Cassy. But he was lying. I knew he was lying. He wanted us all.”
Her tears were hot on my skin. I stroked her sweaty hair, not knowing what comfort she needed.
“If I let down my ward, we were all gonna be hurt. I didn’t have enough magic, Ant Jane. I didn’t have enough workings to save us and save EJ and stop the vampire too. I wasn’t good enough. My brother is gone. I messed up, Ant Jane. I messed up bad.”
“Angie,” I whispered, “your dad is right. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. They fooled us. They got past me.”
“You gotta save my brother. He’s not really a pain.” Angie started hiccupping through her tears. “I really love him. You gonna save him?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m going to save him.” I pushed away from the wall, carrying Angie back to the bed, where I placed her near her baby sister, and made my way to our bedroom. No one followed. I removed my weapons and packed a small gobag with a cell phone, a charger, my medicine bag, two silver stakes, and a thin T-shirt and pants. I pulled off my gold-nugget-and-mountain-lion-claw necklace and added into the mix a talon I hadn’t used recently, one with a tiny bit of dried tissue on the fleshy end. I wrapped the gold chain tightly around the strap of the gobag. Slung it over my shoulder.
Bare-pawed, I went to Alex’s desk. He was in an electronic face-to-face meeting, had three text message threads going, and was on the phone for a conference call. He was busy. I handwrote a note and tucked it into his palm. He opened it, scowled, shook his head no at me. I waved my fingers at him and he scowled some more. He mouthed, I’ll let Eli know.
I nodded and went to the kitchen, where I raided the refrigerator, taking a small raw steak and a high-calorie, high-protein sport shake.
Without telling anyone else what I was doing, I left the house. Ran through the crusty snow, my breath a billowing cloud behind me, my footsteps crunching as I ran. At the pool, I walked along the downed tree, out over the water, and down to the far shore. I set down my bag and grabbed the end of the log. Lifted it with all my half-form strength and stepped back from the water. The log end on the higher shore slipped and splashed down into the water. Eli would be after me fast, probably trying to talk me out of this. He’d have to figure out another way across the creek, which would give me an extra five minutes. By then I’d be gone. I raced upstream, looking for a good rock, small enough to lift, large enough to take mass, clean and free of moss. This time of year, finding bare rock wasn’t hard. I found one, water-shaped into a small rounded boulder, maybe two hundred pounds, balanced on two similar rocks. I shoved it hard, putting my back into it, and it fell, dropping ten feet to rocks below, cracking open to reveal much lighter, rough granite in a paler charcoal color.
