by Faith Hunter
Vaguely, I thought it felt easier since I went to sweat, and went to water. Much easier to find the snake, even at a distance from my mountains and my natural hunting ground. The snake opened before me, thousands, millions, all alike, caught in the cells of the fetish necklace.
I took up the snake that rests in the depths of all beasts and I dropped within it, like water flowing in a stream. Like snow rolling down a mountainside. Grayness enveloped me, sparkling and cold; the world fell away. And I was in the gray place of the change.
My breathing deepened. Heart rate sped up. My bones . . . slid. Skin rippled. Fur, tawny and gray, brown and tipped with black, sprouted. Pain, like a knife, slid between muscle and bone. My nostrils widened, drawing deep.
Jane was gone. I hunched on downed tree of former hunt. Found balance. Night came alive—wonderful, new scents, heavy on air, thick and turning, like Jane dancing to drums and music. Soil, birds, prey smells, trees—many more-than-five trees—but forest was still small; not like my hunting ground in mountains. Only tiny patch of hunting ground here. Too close, I smelled humans. Rabbit. Opossum. Mold. Blood. I panted. Listened to sounds—cars not too distant, music closer, voices talking, muffled.
Gathered limbs beneath, lithe and lissome—always remembered her words for me. Good words. I liked.
No ugly man-made light here, no shadow-stung vision. Clear night and moon, bright. More stars above than at her den. Good place to become Beast. I stretched. Front legs and chest. Pulling back legs, spine, belly. Delicately, with killing teeth, lifted necklace she dropped. Fetish. Bones of a big cat. Set fetish on her clothes.
Hopped from tree. Landed, four-footed, stable. Studied forest in night. No predators. No thieves-of-meat. Sniffed food. Hack of disgust. Always old meat. Dead prey. Long-cooled blood. Tip of tail twitched, wanting chase. To taste hot blood. But stomach rumbled. Always so, after change. Hunger. She left this, an offering to appease Big Cat.
I ate. Long canines tearing into dead meat. Filled stomach. Cold food did not satisfy need to hunt, but more important things now than deer or rabbit, more important than blood and killing joy. Hunt kits. Save kits. Kill vampires. I ate for strength. For speed. For killing. Afterward, licked blood from whiskers and face. New pack and gold and silver chains in way, but . . . needed things. Her things.
Hunt, she called. Hunt for kits.
Delicate nostril membranes fluttering, expanding, relaxing. Many new smells, some with value, some without. Most important . . . smell of witches and vampire on the wind. Raised nose to dancing wind. Opened mouth. Long screee of sound, pulling scents in. Sought place of vampire smell.
Long moments later found trail of wind, of scent. Padded through trees, into small forest. Soil was damp and rich with living things. Birds called in small forest. Padded, silent, following scent of magics and vampire. Jane had come this way before. I found path that wasn’t, winding between trees.
Smells grew stronger, humans and vampire and magic. Good smells for hunt. Good prey. Light in trees ahead. Felt thumps in earth, vibration, sound. Like heartbeats, but not. Hunched low, I cat-pawed closer, back paw into place of front paw. Saw through trees. Same place young rogue rose.
Jane looked out through Beast eyes. They came back to the same place? I don’t understand. I thought they would be nearby, but not here exactly. It shouldn’t be this easy.
Humans foolish. Prey decisions, I thought, haughty. Stupid humans with man-light in trees. Stealing night vision. Stupid prey.
I crouched and we/I looked between trees into open circle. The blood-servants of Adrianna who attacked Jane at the vampire party dug into earth with narrow shovels. Jane’s surprise urged: stand up tall, like cat on two legs. I stayed hunched. Smart hunter, good predator.
The women were short with frizzy brown hair, wiry, fat-starved bodies. Not good eating. Stringy. One was dark skinned, and the other was pale, smelled of onion. They dressed in black and sleeveless shirts that freed their limbs to fight. They smelled of chemicals to ward off buzzing mosquitoes, and they sweated in the night. Making the witch symbols. Sina and Brigit, Jane thought, remaking the circle and pentagram. Sacks of shells sat to the side, piled on a wheelbarrow. Crosses were nailed to the trees. Silver crosses like before. The blood-servants were nearly done making the circle and pentagram.
“If this works,” Sina huffed, “I’ll help Adrianna kill that bloodsucker. Dark right of kings be damned. He’ll never force himself on me again. Never.”
“You keep saying that. And I keep agreeing.”
Leo forced a feeding, Jane thought, at the vamp party, during the feeding frenzy.
I sniffed, smelled Leo. Yes.
“Bastard blood-sucking vamp.”
“Shut up and dig.”
Then they talked no more. Head low, shoulders high, I turned and circled around site, searching for path in. Like rabbits, humans always take same path. Easy to track, nose to earth, huffing in scents. Found path, wide enough for buffalo. Moved fast along it, following it back, back, back through trees, to street in park, over bridge for cars, past sitting places where many humans can gather in herds like prey to watch games. Followed scent to gate and out onto street. Slinking through shadows. To car parked close. Smelling of beer and blood and sex and anger. Looked back.
They’ll come through here?
Ignored Jane stupid question. Looked at street sign. Memorized it for her. Harrison Avenue. Car swept by. I crouched in night, still, noiseless. When it was past, moved on silent feet to shadow of gate.
Saw another car move along the road. Long black car, black windows. It slowed. Wind of passage raced ahead of it. Stank of vampire. Smell of kits and fear. Anger raced through my blood, fast and hot. Kits! Found kits!
Car pulled up behind blood-servant car. Vampire opened door. Vampire got out. Tristan and Renee and their brother, Jane thought. Other vampire smells. Some I knew. Two, three more. More-than-five vampire. More-than-five to kill. Kill them now?
No, Jane said. Too many even for Big Cat. Shift. Get my gear. Get Derek Lee’s help.
Watched to see how many vampires there were. How many to kill. More-than-five. Jane counted. Fear sputtered in her heart.
Padded through shadow, back to small forest. Found safe place beneath low plant and watched circle, watched blood-servants who worked.
CHAPTER 23
I had the marines. Ooh rah
Studied prey working with shells. Females. Angry. Not watching forest. Night-blind from man-light in tree. Not good hunters, but they would be fast from vampire blood. They helped to hurt kits. Will kill them to protect kits.
Not yet, Jane thought. Not in Beast form. We have to wait until the vamps bring the kits, then attack, with help from Derek and his soldiers.
Hacked softly. Disgust. Beast strong. Beast kill blood-servants.
But Jane rose, showed memory of stakes and knives, cutting into vampires. We can fight together. I/we of Beast.
Panted approval. Padded back into forest. Back to tree and all Jane’s gear. Did not want to change. Did not want to shift and give up alpha. But Jane and Beast together were best killer. Leaped to tree. Hunched. And thought of Jane. Of snake in her bones. Gray place reached out and took me in fist with claws. Cut Beast with sharp claws, with knives. Pain. Pain, pain, pain . . .
I fell from the tree and landed hard on the bare earth, grunting. Gasped a shuddering breath that hurt on my bruised ribs. “Ohhhh,” I moaned, keeping my misery quiet when I wanted to cry out. Crap. That hurt. Still lying on the ground, I pulled the unneeded bag from my neck and opened it with shaking fingers. Tore into the plastic bag of Snickers candy bars and bit into the sticky sweetness. I ate four before the shakes stopped. Then I dressed fast, but not in the lightweight clothes I had expected to use. In my fighting gear, moving fast. Molly and Evan and Evangelina would be in the soccer field soon, and I didn’t want to be caught naked. I wanted time to direct them away from the magic site. That many vamps working together would be a danger even three witch
es working together probably couldn’t overcome. The vamps would mind-steal them in a heartbeat and then what good would their spells be?
Dressed, I hit Derek’s GPS device and I called Molly’s cell, reporting in, telling her what I had seen. “You can’t get to the site, Molly. That many vamps would know you were there and take you out before you knew what was happening. You can’t come.”
“How many?” Her voice was strained, tight with the need to do something, anything, to save her babies.
“Renee, Tristan, and their nameless brother; the three of them are weak vamp-witches. Adrianna of St. Martin, Rafael Torrez of Mearkanis are here, and I’m pretty sure they’ve secretly made him clan master. He smells like a blood-master, full of mixed vamp smells. I think Sabina was wrong about the timing. I think the coup d’état will start from here, tonight, with vamps who plan to reign over humans like they did on Haiti.”
“What?”
I hadn’t told her about the challenge against Leo. There hadn’t been time. “I also saw Bettina of Rousseau, but she smelled weak. I think they’ve bled her nearly dry. Adora and Donatien, the young-rogue teens who are bound, gagged, and fighting like mad things. Bliss and the kits. Bliss has been bled so much she’s nearly dead. I don’t think she’ll survive tonight.” My fault. The thought thudded through my veins with my blood. My fault. I tucked the cell under my chin and finished adjusting my boots, pulled the shotgun harness over my shoulders, and clipped it in place. Shoved the vamp-killers back into their loops on my leather pants. I stomped my new boots, settling my feet in them.
“We’re coming,” she grated.
“Molly, you can’t get to me in time. You just find their limo on Harrison Avenue and make sure it won’t run. And kill any vamp who comes out of the forest.” She was crying with frustration. Her strangled sobs made my hands sweat. I wiped them down my leathers, but they didn’t absorb sweat from either side. “Molly!”
“Okay.” She hiccupped and swallowed hard, fighting for control. “But if you need a shield, just hold the rune again. We’re putting something together that can find the amulet and give you protection.”
“A ‘find me’ charm that works as a relay?”
“Yeah. Exactly.” She sounded miserable, barely holding it together.
I breathed out, relief making me tremble. “Hang in there. And thank you, Molly.” Then, “Make it ten feet in diameter? The shield? No more? And can you let bullets move out but no magics or bullets move in?”
“I don’t—”
“Will do,” Evan said from a distance. “Ten feet.”
“Good. Stay safe and out of the way.” I clicked off and hit the speed dial for Derek.
He answered with the words “We’re two klicks out.”
“Meet me. And, Lee? We got five sane vamps in charge, two insane ones in shackles that need to stay that way, one bled-out and starving clan master who’ll drain us dry if she gets half the chance, and three hostage witches.”
“Girl, you do know how to throw a party.” He disconnected.
I didn’t know how long it would take seven former marines to find me, but I figured it wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t. Watching the moon, I waited. Beast alerted me that they were close, moving in two small, parallel groups. I turned toward the south and waited. When they didn’t appear when I thought they should, I said softly, “Y’all waiting for engraved invitations?”
Derek laughed just as softly and stepped through the foliage nearly as silently as Beast. I looked the other direction and waited. Hicklin stepped out and pulled off low-light-vision goggles. “Not bad, girl. Not bad.” He held out a strip of wire, which turned out to be a headset. Obscurely pleased, I took it, hoping it was the same one I’d used before, because otherwise, well, that was just icky. But fear of losing my current approbation made me not ask. I checked and all the men were wearing the low-light-vision goggles. They’d be able to see as well as my Beast. Maybe better.
I knelt, found a sharp length of wood from the tree trimming, and began drawing in the dirt. One of the men aimed a narrow-beamed flashlight on the drawing. “I’ll take point. We’ll approach from downwind so they won’t smell us coming. When we get there, we’ll find a ten-foot-diameter circle with a pentagram in the middle, crosses at head height. Path the vamps will use to enter is here.” I tapped the earth. “We stay south, from this location to here, and we’ll be downwind of them unless the weather changes. They shouldn’t smell us coming.
“The crosses will be glowing so night vision will be compromised for us. Not sure what will happen for the vamps. Under other circumstances they’d be blind and in pain, but this group is seriously different.” I heard an affirmative grunt from my left. “If the paintings are correct, the hostages will be in the center of the pentagram, bound and likely unconscious.”
“I guess that means we should leave behind the RPG launcher,” one of them said from the dark. They laughed but I wasn’t sure he was joking.
Pretty Boy Hicklin settled a fully automatic machine pistol on a strap over his shoulders. “The witch patrol?”
“Will not be joining us. But I do have a single, one-use protection spell. Ten feet in diameter.”
“Impermeable?”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking but I took a chance. “Bullets out, none in. Magic . . . I’m not too sure about tossing out magic, but none will make it in.” I forced down the vision and remembered the scent of Molly’s singed and torn ward. Bad luck to think of failure in the face of battle. “You ready?”
“Girl, we are always ready.” The small group laughed, sexual innuendo in the tone.
Great. A bunch of macho soldiers. But then, for what I needed, nothing could be better.
“What kinda spell are they working? What are we going up against?” another guy asked. His eyebrows were shaved, with short strips of dark skin showing through. He had other bald symbols shaved into his scalp. “This a hostile spell?”
“Something to bring sanity to young rogues or the long-chained. Probably not hostile. But it might be hidden behind a ward, hard to break. We’ll need to intervene before they complete the circle, but I’d like to see how they start.”
“Guards?” When I shook my head, Derek said, “We find any guards, take them out without blood. The vamps’ll smell it otherwise.” To me he said, “We’ll go in on your mark. Location?”
I knew he was referring to the GPS numbers. I sighed. “You’ll just have to follow me. One column, when you see the glowing crosses, spread out to my right.”
“You didn’t use the GPS, did you?”
Beast didn’t have fingers to carry it or the mind to understand a bunch of numbers. Not that I could say that. And I wasn’t about to offer excuses. “No.”
Before they could reply, I headed into the forest, drawing on Beast’s senses and silence. The forest folded itself around me. The soldiers followed, quiet even to Beast’s senses. I controlled an amused hack and let the forest take me.
It felt like a much faster trip back to the witch circle, perhaps because I was surrounded by more firepower than I’d ever seen. Even without the rocket-propelled grenade launcher. Or maybe because I was sure of my bearings now. Whatever. It worked. For once, I felt safe going into battle against vamps. I had the marines. Ooh rah.
The crosses glowed just ahead, pale and silvery, bright enough to steer by, alerting me that the vamps had already arrived. Derek stopped us with an upraised hand and a whisper into his mike. I smelled humans, some close to us. Moving like a wraith, Derek approached me and whispered, “Gangbangers. Crips. I count three. You?”
“I smell four.” Which should have come out another way, to protect myself, but then Derek already knew I wasn’t human. The Crips’s presence was proof that the coup d’état would start soon, and that Leo’s enemies had been using the gangs to steer NOPD attention to other matters and away from vamps. The vamp war was ready to begin.
He breathed out a laugh and sent his men out in a circle. I heard a fe
w faint scuffs, one breath sighing into the night, but no screams, and no scent of blood. I guessed that the Crips were goners.
I double-checked my crosses to make sure they were still covered. I felt more than saw the soldiers flow out to my right. Silent. Deadly.
They surrounded the southern side of the witch circle, downwind of the vamps, positioning themselves so they wouldn’t catch cross fire. And they waited.
The blood-servants packed up the shovels, empty shell-sacks, and wheelbarrow, and trundled nosily out of the artificial glen as the vamp witches milled around, talking in low voices. In the wake of their passage, I moved closer to the witch circle, knowing their noise covered any I might make. I sensed Derek’s men moving in as well, but I heard little; they were pretty good for humans. Head tilted, I followed the sounds of Sina and Brigit for long minutes. The sound of doors slamming. Then nothing from the distant humans. In the circle, the vamps took their positions at the five points of the pentagram.
I moved in until I could see Angelina, Little Evan, and Bliss, visible below the tree foliage. They were lying on the ground, tied and gagged in the middle of the circle. Bliss looked more than half dead, pasty pale, unconscious, sprawled, arms behind her back. She was naked; fang marks showed at neck, inner elbows, and groin. Angie and Evan Jr. were barefoot, in unfamiliar pajamas, and they were tied, their eyes closed. I could see the energies of a spell over them, Evan’s pink-tinged, Angie’s a dull gray. The surprise in the circle was Bettina, also naked, white as a ghost and half bled out, tied, her wrists behind her back. She was shackled to Bliss.
I remembered the smell of her in the Damours’ bed. I wasn’t sure why Bettina was there, but then these vamps were being chased and harassed. Maybe they needed more vamp blood for the ceremony. Maybe they had changed it yet again, added another factor. But it was clear that Bettina wasn’t intended to last the night.
There wasn’t a lot of room in the circle for all the bodies. I was glad the children were unconscious. They shouldn’t have to see this kind of thing. No one should.
