by R. L. King
She landed on silent paws next to Stone’s attacker and clamped her jaws around his left wrist. There was a wet crunch and a shriek of pain, then a spray of hot, red blood spattered Stone’s shield. The man fell, then righted himself with effort and half-staggered, half-crawled toward the tree line.
Two more men dropped from the trees; Stone sensed them more than saw them as they spread themselves out, trying to separate the four of them. They’d clearly learned from their previous encounters with him and his friends: staying close together was a bad idea, leaving them more vulnerable to magical attacks. They’d use their strengths here: stealth, speed, and supernatural toughness.
But now they had Viajera to contend with, and she was every bit as fast, strong, and tough as they were—perhaps more so, in her jaguar form. Stone had to hope it would be enough to turn the tide. Every minute they wasted was another minute the alchemist could use to escape with the chalice. They didn’t have time to let this fight draw out.
Jason’s shotgun roared again, not as loud now since they weren’t inside a building, but still deafening. This time it was answered by another sort of roar.
Stone spun, flinging his own attacker off in a screeching parabola back toward the forest, trying to see what was happening with Jason. What he spotted chilled him: Jason had either missed with his shot or hit the man somewhere non-vital, because the thug surged forward and slashed at Jason with his machete. Jason yelped as the blade raked across his abdomen, opening a bright bloody furrow that lit up on Stone’s magical sight, and then fell.
“Jason!” he yelled, but Verity was already acting. Her aura alight with rage and fear, she raised her hands and picked the man up, twisting and spinning him in the air before turning him upside-down and slamming him back down to the ground head-first. The resulting thunk carried even over the babbling rush of the creek.
Stone hurried toward her, intent on reaching Jason, but in his focus on his friend, he didn’t see the man behind him. Something slammed into his shield from the back, carrying him forward. Startled, he let the shield waver for a second before re-establishing it, but it was enough for his opponent’s charge to drive him into a tree. He dropped, stunned, the shield fading, and braced for another attack.
It didn’t come. Instead, Viajera’s roar rose again. Claws out, she slashed at the man, forcing him to divert his attention to her. Another one joined him, wrapping his meaty, muscular arms around the jaguar’s neck. Clearly they considered her and Stone the worst threats.
Stone dragged himself up, keeping his back to the tree. He glanced around, looking for the others. Garra appeared to be holding her own her two opponents; she snarled and swiped her claws across the nearest one’s abdomen, leaving bloody wounds in their wake, then whirled to bull the other into a nearby tree, breaking his hold around her neck. Verity’s shield deflected another’s dive, and she used a telekinetic grab to toss him into the creek with a loud splash.
That left only Jason. They’d need to finish this quickly, so they could take care of his injuries. Was he even conscious any longer? Stone scanned the area with magical sight, trying to pick up a trace of his friend’s blue aura, his fear growing when he couldn’t find it. Oh, gods, no, is he—
But no—there he was, lying prone against a thick tree. His aura flickered weakly, flaring red around his midsection where the man had slashed him. He appeared to be struggling to a seated position, fumbling at something on his belt.
Stone didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d already pulled the object free and held it to his mouth.
“Jason, no!” he yelled, rushing toward him.
He was too late. Jason threw his head back and downed the contents of the elixir bottle he’d taken from Foley, then flung the bottle aside.
Stone lost sight of him for a moment as something slammed into his shield. He spun to see two of the men converging on him, muscular arms wide and beastly snarls on their faces. They knocked him over but the shield held; by the time he’d gathered energy and flung both of them free, Jason had leaped to his feet. Now, the familiar green glow tinged the edges of his strengthening blue aura, and the red at his abdomen was already fading.
“Jason!” Stone called.
His friend ignored him. Growling, he dropped the shotgun and threw himself at the man who was already heading back toward Verity. Jason was fast and athletic under normal circumstances, but now he moved with the same blurred grace as the others, nearly too fast to follow. With a yell, he landed on the man’s back, his arm snaking around his neck.
“Jason!” Verity yelled. “Don’t kill him!”
Stone didn’t have time for elaborate analysis, or to worry about what was going on with Jason. They had to finish this fight—it was a diversion, and if they let it go on much longer, the alchemist would either escape or prepare something even deadlier for them.
Enough fooling around. He had the power—it was time to see what he could do with it.
Garra roared again, her bestial rage echoing through the clearing. As Stone watched she lunged, clamping her jaws on her opponent’s throat and tearing it out. The spray of blood slicked her sleek, black fur. The man didn’t even have time to scream before he dropped, beyond even the elixir’s regenerative ability to save him now.
Two down, Stone thought with no regret. Three more to go.
Jason and Verity, working together now, seemed to have their opponent well in hand, so he focused on the other two. He’d tossed them in two different directions when they’d attacked him, mostly trying to get them away from him so he could check on Jason. Now, they were nowhere to be seen. Damn whatever was hiding their auras from him! Had they taken off, falling back to protect their boss, or were they even now lurking in the trees above, preparing to—
“Doc, look out!” Verity called, still struggling with the man trying to breach her shield as Jason grappled at him from behind.
Stone barely had time to react before another muscular figure bowled him over and slammed him into a tree. His shield held long enough to blunt the impact this time, but the jolt disrupted his concentration.
The shield faltered for only a second, but it was enough. The man grabbed hold of him, pulling him in, hands tightening as they tried to crush his shoulders. “I’ll kill you,” he snarled, his hot, sour breath hitting Stone in the face.
Stone didn’t hold back. If he did, he had no doubt the man would do to him what they’d done to Jimmy Tanuki back in Oakland. Forcing himself to ignore the pain, he bared his teeth and called energy to him, feeling it jangling through his body until he felt he couldn’t hold anymore. He reached out and put his palms flat against the man’s muscular chest, then released the power.
The man’s hands dropped away as he screamed, his entire body lighting up with crackling energy. His arms and legs stiffened, shuddering. His teeth clamped down on his own tongue so hard blood flew from his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled backward, still twitching as if he’d been electrocuted.
“Try it,” Stone muttered, then took off at a run toward Jason and Verity’s last position.
He found them as Garra came in from the opposite side, fast and silent. She ignored the two of them and leaped past, disappearing once more into the trees.
Verity yelped, backpedaling as her opponent tore at her shield, ignoring Jason. Her back hit a tree and she struggled to gather her power.
Stone was about to help—Verity was an accomplished mage in many areas, but she’d never been as strong in combat magic as he was, even before Calanar—but before he could act, Jason screamed something into the night and reached up to grip a branch as thick as a child’s arm. As Stone watched in fascinated horror, he wrenched the branch free of the tree, wound up, and let Verity’s attacker have the full force of a baseball-style swing to the side of his head. The resulting sound was like a ripe watermelon being dropped from a third-story window.
The man didn’t even scream. The strength of Jason’s blow took him off his feet an
d carried him several feet away, where he spun and dropped.
Verity, panting, darted her gaze from the man to Jason. “Holy…crap…” she whispered breathlessly. “How did you do that?”
“He took Mr. Foley’s elixir,” Stone said, leveling his own accusing gaze on Jason.
“Don’t, Al,” Jason growled. His face looked subtly different, his eyes blazing, his jaw set. “I did what I had to do, and I don’t regret it. Let’s get this bitch.”
Garra swept into the clearing, still in jaguar form. Blood slicked her shoulders and her flanks, and it was hard to tell whether it was hers or her opponents’—but the stuff staining her fangs held no similar doubt. She nudged Stone with her head and then took off again. Her meaning was clear: we have to go.
“You—took that stuff?” Verity asked, gaping at her brother in horror now.
“Not now, V,” he growled. “Let’s go before it wears off.” His shirt was still soaked with the blood from his wound, but he moved as if it were no longer a concern.
Verity shot a worried look at Stone as her brother took off after Garra, moving faster and with more confidence than he had before. It couldn’t have been more obvious that she was thinking about what had happened to Foley.
Stone gripped her shoulder. “He’s right,” he said. “It was the only way. We’ll sort out the consequences later.”
Her glare was fleeting, and quickly turned to reluctant resolve. “Yeah. Let’s finish this.”
Up ahead, the rush of the creek grew louder. They broke free of the tree line to find Garra and Jason waiting for them, surveying the area on the other side. There still weren’t any lights, but neither of them seemed to have an issue with that.
“I don’t see anybody over there,” Jason said as they drew up next to him. He held up his hands and stared at them as if he didn’t believe they were his. “This is…amazing. I can see in the dark, like a cat. Nothing hurts. Check it out.” He pulled up the bottom of his T-shirt, where the knife slash had been. Nothing was there now except some leftover drying blood.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” Verity said. “You don’t know what all’s in that stuff. It could kill you, like it almost did Foley.”
“Didn’t have a choice. And I’m fine. I feel…great. Better than great. Like I could take on the world.” He caught her expression and took her hand. “Don’t worry, V—I’m not addicted to the stuff or anything. But it sure as hell feels good to be able to contribute something to the team when we’re fighting supernatural stuff. That shotgun barely slowed those guys down.”
She focused hard on him for a few more seconds, then finally looked away. “Yeah. I get it. We’ll talk about it later. Come on.”
Garra was clearly impatient again, growling and nudging Stone toward the creek. It was about ten feet wide and didn’t appear deep, which was good because none of them could see a bridge across it.
“Must be further down,” Jason said, peering south, where the meandering creek disappeared into some trees.
“We could try to find it—” Verity began.
Garra, having none of it, growled and plunged into the water, her powerful muscles carrying her across in a few seconds. She mounted the bank, shook off the water in a gesture reminiscent of a family dog shaking off a bath, then growled at them again.
Jason pondered a moment, then took a few steps back and set off at a run, clearing the ten feet in a single, powerful leap. Stone and Verity used levitation spells to carry them across. They all paused to check for anyone lying in wait for them, then moved on into the forest.
Stone could sense Garra’s tension as she moved silently ahead of them; without magical sight, he wouldn’t have been able to see her at all, but her green aura flashed with increasing anger and agitation as they continued forward.
“Stay sharp,” he muttered to Verity. “If they had the other building warded and concealed under an illusion, this one will likely be too. Especially if this is where she does her work.”
Up ahead, Garra growled and stopped.
Stone hurried up next to her, peering up ahead. He saw nothing but more dark, shadowy trees, even when he switched to magical sight.
He crouched next to her. “Do you see something?”
She made a low, chuffing growl and indicated the area in front of them with paw gesture. Then she raised her head and sniffed the air, a rumble forming deep in her chest.
“She’s spotted something,” Stone muttered to Jason and Verity, who’d come up next to them.
“I smell something,” Jason said. “Not sure what it is, but it doesn’t belong here. Kinda like chemicals and blood.”
Garra growled agreement.
“Right, then,” Stone said. He neither scented nor saw anything, but he trusted Garra’s more sensitive nose—and now Jason’s, too. “That means she’s got an illusion up, and we don’t have time to waste being gentle. Give me a moment, and make sure nobody jumps me.”
He crept forward and levitated into the branches of a nearby tree where he could get a good view of the scene ahead. This would be more difficult—unlike the research building, he didn’t have Foley’s description of exactly where it was supposed to be—but now he had a better idea of the kinds of illusions the alchemist was using. He hoped it would be enough to offset the problem, since they didn’t have long to locate her hiding place.
With every moment he scanned, his tension grew. The thugs must have recovered by now; he was sure they hadn’t killed all of them—perhaps not any of them—and they’d proven they could track their prey with ease through the darkness and thick forest. So where were they?
For that matter, where was the alchemist? A chill ran through him along with a thought: what if the thugs’ purpose truly hadn’t been to kill them, but merely to delay them long enough for the alchemist to escape? If that was true, she could already be long gone, and them with her, leaving him and his friends to search the area in vain.
The chill deepened as he remembered the shifters they’d released from the admin building: the two wolves and stricken cougar back at the lab, and the bear and jaguar cub fleeing with Foley back toward the cop’s car. The bear could probably hold his own against the alchemist’s henchmen, but the cub and Foley would be helpless.
Was all of this nothing more than a diversion?
Grimly, he tightened his focus, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He’d never see through the illusion if he forced it. If the alchemist had already fled with the chalice, they wouldn’t catch her, but at least they could shut down the lab before they left so she’d have to regroup before she started again. And between his power and Garra’s tracking abilities, they’d find her again, eventually.
“Doc?” Verity’s soft voice came from below him.
“Yes?”
“Do you see anything?”
It was difficult to concentrate on her words and keep up his search. “Just a moment,” he said, distracted. “I’ve just got to—”
There it was.
A faint shimmer, barely visible, up ahead and to the left. “Shh…” he cautioned, fearful if he took his gaze away from it, he’d lose it again. He focused harder, while simultaneously forcing himself to look past what he thought he saw. As he did so, the shimmer resolved itself, revealing the hazy form of another building behind it. “Got it.”
“Can you get through it?”
“She already knows we’re here. No time for subtlety now.”
He took several deep breaths, pulling in power. If he had time he could take the illusion down with more care, perhaps so the caster wouldn’t even know he was breaching it. But he couldn’t shake the visions of her sneaking out the back door. If she was smart—and he was sure she was—she’d get out of she could, and live to re-establish her vile little empire somewhere else.
He gathered the power, feeling it raging and swirling within him, picked a point on the illusion, and released it, channeling all his anger and disgust at what this horrible woman had done to his friend,
to other sentient beings, for her own gain.
The power contacted the illusion with a great psychic ripping sound. Without magical sight, he knew it looked like he was tearing a hole in reality, like something out of a science fiction show. Behind it, another scene appeared: instead of trees, it was the pale wall of another building. With more brute force than care, he took hold of the two sides of the breach and pulled them to the side.
The illusion resisted—this one was stronger than the one on the lab—but it couldn’t stand against the power Stone was pouring into it. At last it gave way, staggering him backward as it ripped free and disappeared.
Jason caught him, gripping his arms with strong hands, and set him back upright. “Holy shit.”
Next to him, Viajera growled agreement.
This building was smaller than the lab, light-colored, its windows covered with metal plates instead of plywood. Perimeter lights shone all around it, illuminating a reinforced metal front door that clearly hadn’t been original equipment.
Viajera nudged Stone forward, her growl growing impatient.
This was it.
As they moved forward, quickly but with care, they saw no sign of any of the enhanced henchmen. Stone didn’t know if they’d fled or if they were inside, but either way it didn’t matter. Their objective was clear.
“In the front, or through one of the windows?” Jason asked. He stood on the balls of his feet, tense and ready, his hands clenching and unclenching. It couldn’t have been clearer that he wanted to use his newfound strength to rip something apart.
Stone scanned the building’s roof line again, checking for ambushers. Even though the elixir hid the men’s auras, he wasn’t too concerned—it didn’t hide their scent, and Viajera would have picked them up if they were there. “Let’s go in the front door. But with care—they could be waiting for us inside.”
Jason loped off with Viajera right behind him.
Verity glanced at Stone, her brow furrowed. “I don’t like this,” she said. “He’s…different.”
