by Jamie Davis
The pressure on her chest increased, and the cold became so intense, it seared into her skin. Quinn didn’t care. In a sudden, final lunge with her awareness, she managed to peel away a strip of gold energy as she’d done before.
The bar of light bent in her direction on the HUD and surged upward as it found its way to the building’s concrete and steel foundation. The metal beams facilitated the transfer of energy up to her the same way it would dissipate a lightning strike from above.
Quinn drank in the power when it reached her at last. She ignored the pain in her tortured muscles as she convulsed from the energy coursing through her.
The injured arm repaired itself, tissue and bone knitting together in an instant. Quinn’s last shred of consciousness worked to contain the energy surge within her core, hiding any sign of what she did. She knew how the visible outward glow she’d evidenced back at the farmhouse would give away her rejuvenation.
She pulled in more power, drinking the energy in pulsing bursts as if she were gulping mouthfuls of water from a hose. At last, she could hold no more.
Quinn shifted her gaze from Taylor’s bloody neck and ear, raising her eyes to lock her gaze with Handon’s.
At first, he met her gaze with a steely fire of his own, trying to force his vampiric glamour on her to control her actions and command answers to his questions. Then the look in his eyes shifted to puzzlement.
“Girl, whatever you’re thinking, you have no way out of this. The rest of you will die, no matter what you think you can do. Don’t try anything foolish.”
The extended clawed finger resting on Taylor’s neck twitched as he began to carry out his earlier threat.
Like the snapping rebound of a bungee cord, Quinn released the force within her all at once. She hoped she was right about what she was about to do because she’d only get one chance at this.
Quinn let out the hidden glow within her.
Many things happened at once.
Brilliant blue-white light flared from every bit of her exposed skin, even her eyes.
The vampire let go of Taylor and raised both hands to shield his face as he cried out in pain. Everywhere the light touched him, his skin sizzled and smoked under the onslaught of energy surging from Quinn’s body.
At the same moment, she jerked her shoulders and arms inward, pulling at the two werewolves holding her wrists. This time, she pulled free of the shifters’ grasp with ease, their claws no longer able to grip her.
Filled with more power than she’d held, Quinn twisted in place. They’d been so sure of themselves, they hadn’t bothered searching or disarming her. She yanked her Bowie free of its hidden sheath beneath her jacket.
Continuing the arc of drawing the blade, she slashed the neck of shifter on her left, nearly decapitating him with a single blow. His death throes blocked the other shifter on that side.
The two werewolves on her right slashed her with their clawed hands. Both connected, one on her arm, and the other raking across her ribs.
Quinn ignored the pain of the new injuries, a sort of berserker rage filling her. Spinning, she landed a kick that sent the first werewolf on the right flying back to slam into the wood paneling on the conference room wall.
She landed on her feet, lunging forward and thrusting her blade deep into another shifter’s chest.
He clutched the blade as it slid free, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He’d be dead soon enough.
The final shifter backed up and through the open door, his hands up in surrender.
Quinn knelt and snatched a belt knife from one of the creature’s fallen companions. In a fluid arc, her arm extended, flinging the blade into his throat.
The shifter collapsed in a twitching heap to the thick blood-red carpet.
Standing, Quinn turned until she faced Cindy and Myles at the head of the conference table.
The cult leader muttered a few words and extended one hand in her direction. Jets of fire spread from his fingers and flowed directly at Quinn’s head.
She ducked under the fire stream, although the heat burned a few stray hairs on the top of her head. Quinn squeezed her eyes closed to shield them against the superheated air accompanying the jet of flame.
When she stood again, weapon ready, she realized the fire had been more of a diversion than an attack. Myles and Cindy had run around the conference table to join John Handon where he stood in the corner by the door. He’d retreated there after the blast of light. The red and black charred patches on his face and arms stood out in stark contrast to his otherwise pale white skin. Myles and Cindy helped steady him, patting out the smoldering spots on his expensive tailored suit.
Quinn only had a few seconds before her opponents regrouped.
She dove across the table, propelling herself with all the boosted strength and speed granted by the energy surge. With speed and a surety she’d never have managed without the magical enhancement, Quinn slashed to the left and right at the bonds securing her two remaining friends to the chairs.
Clark bounded to his feet, sparing a single saddened glance at Miranda’s lifeless body slumped in the chair beside him. He pulled the gag from his mouth and pointed to Handon. “You’ll pay for her life with your own evil existence, vampire.”
Clark didn’t have his sword, but he’d pulled out a push dagger hidden in the buckle of his belt, it’s silver alloy blade ready for action.
Quinn regained her feet and joined Taylor on either side of the elder hunter. Taylor held out her fists, having lost her silver knives. Quinn held her Bowie ready and waited for Clark’s signal to advance.
Handon managed a raspy laugh, though he was obviously severely injured. Quinn’s flare of sunlight, or whatever it was, had done more than just superficial burn damage. “hunter, you are out of your league. I’ve not survived this long without being prepared for even the most remote possibilities. I have plans for all contingencies.”
He pulled his charred hand from a pocket within his suit coat and brought something shiny and golden to his mouth. A thin, high, piercing whistle sounded.
When he brought the whistle down, his cracked and burned lips parted in a smile that exposed his elongated canines. “You’ll be a little bit too busy, at least for the time being. Perhaps we’ll meet again—if you survive, that is.”
A chorus of howls echoed from the darkened area outside the conference room.
As Quinn and the others turned to search for the source, a hidden panel opened. Myles and Cindy rushed the injured vampire to the dark opening beyond and disappeared into the passageway, pulling the secret door closed.
There was no time for Quinn, Clark, or Taylor to go after them. Six werewolves bounded into the room, hunched over to run on all-fours.
“Get behind me and watch Taylor,” Quinn called. She charged forward, moving faster than even her own eyes could follow.
Behind her, Clark stepped in front of the tech witch, brandishing his small push dagger.
Quinn fell back on her carefully honed martial arts instincts and the long hours of training Clark had put her through in the last month. The lessons all came back to her. She spun and twisted through her forms, slashing and thrusting. She executed a series of complementary punches and kicks at the charging werewolves, too.
Two of the beasts fell almost immediately, underestimating her speed and strength in the initial rush to get at their prey.
The other four split up and circled the trio, searching for a break in the huntress’ berserker fighting style.
As she twisted and leaped from place to place, driving the shifters back from her friends, Quinn paid little attention to her stamina bar. That was a mistake she discovered when she failed to stop one of the charging werewolves before it could reach out and clamp its jaws down on Taylor’s arm.
Taylor screamed. The girl pounded her fist on its head, beating it until Clark dispatched it with a single sweep of his silver push knife.
Quinn didn’t have time to dwell on her friend’s in
jury. Two shifters remained and her stamina flashed an ominous dark-red color, which showed it was completely drained.
Her knees quivered beneath her, which she hoped the two shifters didn’t see.
Quinn pointed to the door of the conference room, working to steady her voice when it quavered as she spoke. “Leave now, and you’ll live to warn your pack. Tell them to return to peaceful coexistence with humanity, or I swear I’ll hunt every last one of them down and turn their pelts into rugs for my lair.”
The two remaining werewolves glanced at each other, then back at her.
“I’d listen to her,” Clark said, stepping up to stand by her side. “She’s the huntress of this clan. She’ll not give you a second warning.”
The creatures didn’t wait to see if Clark was right about the second warning. They turned and scampered from the room, fighting each other to get through the door at the same time.
As soon as they were out of sight, Quinn reached up to steady herself on Clark’s shoulder.
“You all right?” he asked.
“I will be. I spent a lot of personal energy just now. I’m going to need a little time to recharge.” Quinn looked at the corner where Handon and the others had escaped. “What about them?”
“We’ll have to let them get away. We’re in no condition to go after anyone right now. The vampire almost certainly had a supply of blood nearby. He’ll be on his way to healing himself, and we don’t want to be here when he is back up to strength.”
Clark pointed to her chest. “You’re burned.”
Quinn glanced down and gasped. Her amulet had burned a hole through her t-shirt, and it had changed, too. Now it was nothing more than a hunk of melted slag on a chain. It no longer resembled the shiny, engraved oval she’d had since she was left by her parents so long ago.
She lifted it in her fingers, running her thumb over the dull, rounded surface. Her chest wasn’t burned beneath it despite what it had done to the shirt’s fabric. The power from the ley line had kept her safe from that while it had coursed through her.
Taylor’s pained voice broke through Quinn’s thoughts. “A little help here. I can’t stop the bleeding.”
Quinn turned to Taylor, now seated on the floor cradling her injured forearm and trying to press on the savaged skin there to stop the flow of blood from the bite wound.
Quinn tore a strip off the bottom of her t-shirt. She didn’t have time to worry about how dirty it might be. She wrapped it around Taylor’s arm and pulled it tight, twisting the knot so that the fabric clamped down on the vessels beneath and staunched the flow of blood.
“Clark, you need to get her to a hospital. This needs more attention than you or I can give it.”
“What about you?” the hunter asked. He had been untying Miranda’s limp body from the chair. He carried her over and laid her down where Taylor sat.
“I’m still in the VR.”
Taylor smiled. “That’s easy. Clark can just click on the exit sequence button in the app on my phone. You’ll pop back into the car right where you left.”
“Where are you going to be?” Quinn asked.
“I think I’m going to be unconscious if that’s okay.” She punctuated the statement by slumping over to lay atop Miranda’s body.
“Clark, get her downstairs. I’ll get Miranda’s body out of here and hidden down by the alley and the loading dock.”
“You can barely stand, Quinn. How do you expect to carry her?”
Quinn smiled. “I’ll figure out something. Wait until I send you the recall signal before you summon me back, then I can tell you where Miranda’s body is. We can come back for her after we drop Taylor off at the Mercy Hospital ER. It’s not too far from here.”
Clark nodded and picked up Taylor from the floor. He gave one last look around and then walked from the room back to the elevators.
Quinn waited until he left before she finally let the tears flow. They dripped down her cheeks to fall on the floor as she struggled to drag Miranda’s body in the same direction. She wouldn’t leave the witch’s body here alone. She could at least get the body outside the building. Even if she and Clark couldn’t come back, the authorities would eventually find her and give her a burial of some sort.
It took some work, plus the lucky discovery of a mail cart near the elevators, but Quinn got Miranda down to the alley and stashed behind a dumpster. There was no sign of the werewolf pack though she could smell traces of them, especially down by the loading dock.
Quinn stared up and down the alley to mark the position in her mind. She hated to leave Miranda alone there, but she had to get back from the VR system before Taylor’s laptop ran out of power. There was no telling what would happen to her if she stayed in here too long.
Quinn pushed the earpiece into place and pressed the button twice in rapid succession. A few seconds later, the familiar swirling blackness and nausea caught her. She fell backward into it, leaving the VR system and its magic behind.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Quinn dumped a last shovelful of earth over the grave and patted it down with the flat back of the shovel. Clark stood nearby, placing the carved wooden plank at the head end of the mounded earth. He’d worked on it all night and Quinn admired the handiwork he’d displayed. The stylized image represented a tree and leaf motif representing nature and balance.
“I think she’d like it,” Quinn said.
“I know she would,” Taylor agreed from beside her. She pulled at the sling that held her injured arm and then bent down to lay a small bouquet of wildflowers atop the mound of dirt.
Clark came to stand beside the others and stared down at their handiwork. “We need to get going.”
Quinn nodded. “I wish we could stay. It was starting to feel like home, here.”
“They know where it is, Quinn,” Clark said. “It will only be a matter of time before they come back and look for us.”
“I know. It’s not like I ever really had a home anyway.”
Taylor came over and rested her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “We’re a clan, Quinn. Home is wherever we find ourselves.”
“Someday, Taylor, I swear we’ll have a real place to call home, for us and for the clan.”
Clark picked up the shovel and the mallet he’d been using to drive the plank into the dirt. “Until then, let’s load up and get out of here.”
“Where to?” Taylor asked Clark.
“I have a few places I’ve set up over the years to hide. The closest one isn’t too far from here. Then we can see about finding out what Handon and the others are up to next.”
Quinn touched the lump of melted metal that had been her magical amulet. It still hung around her neck on its silver chain, but it wasn’t anything but an inert hunk of slag now. There only remained a mirror image of the amulet branded into the center of her chest.
She shook her head. They had all sacrificed so much in the final fight. They’d lost Miranda, and that stung more than what had happened to her amulet. Without the witch’s help, Quinn wasn’t sure how they were going to be able to fight back when the next time rolled around.
Her fingers closed around the remains of the amulet and squeezed until it hurt. If only she could go back and do something different, find some other way to win that could’ve saved her friend.
She followed Taylor and Clark back to the car, despair from all her failures in the past week washing over her. She hadn’t told Clark the amulet wasn’t the only thing she’d lost. Her newfound huntress powers and abilities gained in the past few months had all vanished when she burned out in the fight downtown.
Quinn had prayed as she refilled the grave earlier, seeking guidance from any higher being who would listen. She begged for an answer to what had happened. She hoped for some explanation that would tell her why they had to lose so much.
That was when she’d heard the distant voice calling to her. She told no one about it. The voice was her only hope for redemption, and she’d share it with no one.
Not yet, anyway.
“Be strong, my huntress. Your power is only misplaced. Seek your heritage and restore it from the source.”
Quinn expected that to be all there was but this time, the voice was followed by a familiar one.
“The goddess is correct, Quinn,” Miranda said. “Seek out your past. Find your mother, for she can restore everything you desire.”
Jamie’s Author Notes
January 9, 2020
I wrote Huntress Apprentice leading into the holiday season and I found myself thinking about family a lot as I put together the next story about Quinn Faust. The search for a family, one that will stand by her through thick and thin, is the driving force in Quinn’s life. She’d never had one growing up in foster care and she wants it.
I was a whole lot luckier than Quinn growing up, but family is also a driving force in my life. I realized a lot of what that meant to me as I dealt with the death of two family members as 2019 closed and the holidays approached. The first to pass was my step brother, only a few years older than myself. He died suddenly after a freak work accident. We were never particularly close because our parents married when we were both already adults. But, for both sides of the family, it was important we rallied around his wife, daughter, mother, and brother to show our support.
About a month later, my eldest aunt died after fighting a prolonged illness. Though not as much of a shock, once again, family came into play. Everyone stepped forward to show support, bringing food, attending funeral home viewings, and just about anything else we could think of to help out. This is what my family does for each other in tough times.
In light of my family’s challenges over the holidays, I reflected on how loss affected Quinn at the end of Huntress Apprentice, losing a member of her newly assembled clan of close friends. This was the family she’d helped to create and already she’d lost someone. I thought about how she might face this loss in the uncertain future facing her in book 3. Something tells me it’s only going to make her stronger.
