Witchfire

by Cyrese Covelli

  Daray helped Rigel force P.J. into the booth, his hand placed on the top of her head. Daray's glamour disappeared, a warm rush of air flowed around me.

  I was already on my feet and half-way across the table to help pull Rigel away from P.J. when Fawne yanked me back, using my own momentum to throw me into the seat. P.J. screamed as a neon-yellow light pulsed around her.

  "Ascher?" Gemma said. "Ascher? Is it really you? Blinking back tears, I stretched my arm and grasped my sister's hand, giving it a small squeeze. The loud shrill of P.J.'s screams cut through the balcony. Gemma seemed to notice P.J. for the first time. "What are they doing to her?" She asked in a small voice.

  "What is this, Daray? Rigel? What are you doing?" I said. Savian's gaze focused on me and he smiled.

  "Oh, none of that," Savian said. "Your Prince is merely fulfilling his, how do you say, 'end' of the bargain. The ability to charm others with Glamour Magic is a rarity, much like the power to shift into the form of a cat. So, you see what's happening?" I didn't.

  "Daray is shifting P.J's powers into Savian," Fawne said. "In exchange for the release of your sister." The neon light around P.J. was circling through the air surrounding Savian in its ethereal glow. P.J. moaned.

  "You're killing her!" I said.

  "Rigel's magic will keep her from dying," Fawne said, her voice empty of emotion. "She'll survive the night."

  You won't I thought. She'd lied to me, they'd all lied, saying they wanted to help Gemma. Why had I believed them? I felt stupid and ashamed. How had I let myself be so easily taken in by them? It occurred to me that Daray would probably try to take my power, too and maybe Gemma's. No. I wouldn't let that happen. This was going to end now.

  I used my grip on Gemma's hand to pull her under the table and focused on calling my fire. My powers worked better when I was angry so I closed my eyes and thought about the past few days and all my sister and I had been through. The memories flitted through my mind, each one fuel for the magic building inside of me.

  When I thought I would burst from all the power, I held my hands, palms outstretched, over the table, watching with wonder as the magical fire ignited from within me and poured over the table. The others began to scream, their cries mixing with those of their victim. A surge of power swelled in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  I dove under the table and crawled towards the other side of the booth where an opening led beyond to the floor. Just as we'd reached the end of the table, I felt a strange magic prickle against me like fingers tickling the back of my neck.

  "Ascher," Daray's voice was calm- deadly calm "You won't escape me." He sounded so sure of his victory over us, I had to remind myself that Gemma and I were getting away.

  "Escape from this!" I said, tossing a fireball over my shoulder. I heard him curse and smiled. Bulls-eye.

  I reached Gemma and scrambled to my feet, my sister pulling me by the arm. I rushed for the staircase that led to the lower floor, but Gemma yanked me back.

  "There's too many of them down there. We have to find another way," she said.

  "Here!" I said. We rushed towards the hallway that led passed the private bathroom, our desperation to escape forcing us to move fast. We ran blindly, not really knowing where to go. When we reached a hallway lined with heavy black curtains, I cried out.

  The exit I'd used with the others was gone!

  Footsteps pounded the floor behind us. This was it. Gemma and I would be trapped here, at the mercy of nightmarish creatures whose purpose with us we could only begin to guess.

  "They'll kill us!" Gemma cried. I bit the inside of my cheek. No, not us. Just me. I shoved Gemma behind the curtains.

  "Run. I'm just behind you," I lied. Hiding between the suffocating layers of velvet, I listened to the sound of my sister's footsteps growing softer. I heard a crisp tearing noise to my left and spun around to see what had caused it when something hard hit the back of my neck. My legs felt unsteady and I stumbled, tangling myself with the curtains.

  The heel of my shoe caught on the bottom of the panel making my ankle twist with a sick snap. My knees struck the floor and I clenched my jaw to not give whoever was behind me the satisfaction of hearing my cries. A deep, throaty chuckle vibrated through the air, hot breath misting my face. Two glowing eyes watched me, a pair of tiny flames in the blackness.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Wrestling with Werewolves

  A heavy weight pinned me to the floor. I tried to call my fire, but my arms were seized and pressed over my head, leaving me without the aid of my magic.

  Oh, crap.

  I heard a small click and the flame from a lighter sparked over the face of my attacker. Fiske sat on my legs, grinning down at me like a bloodhound with a prize fox caught between its teeth. I struggled against his weight, but he held me to the floor with one hand.

  Damn it! I barred my teeth and glared at him.

  "Get off of me!" I said. He lowered his face and sniffed at my neck.

  "You got to love the smell of terror. It makes the meat all the sweeter," he said. I head butted him in the face and jerked my legs to the side. "Feisty little thing," he said. I pressed my nails into his palm.

  "There's no need for that, I'm not gonna eat you." I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "No, it will be much more fun to make you a werewolf." The skin on his face rippled causing tufts of black fur to sprout from his face. “It'll just take a minute 'til I'm shifted and then we're good to go," Fiske said.

  Flashing me one last saliva- slathered smile, he stood, flicked the lighter off and left me lying in the dark. Too afraid to move, I started to call for help, but he slapped his hand, now a paw over my mouth.

  "This should hurt quite a bit," he said. I braced myself for the pain of his bite. The curtains behind us yanked apart, the light of a candle filtering into the dark. Fawne stared at us, a look of disgust on her face.

  "Son of a bitch!" Fawne said. She launched herself over me and seized Fiske by the hair. He yelped and turned on her. His teeth tore into her arm, forcing her to drop the candle. I was careful not to make a sound as I inched away. Wrestling with werewolves was something I, so, did not want to do. The curtains tangled with my limbs, slowing my movement.

  When I was sure they weren't paying attention to me, I used the curtains to pull myself to my feet. My knuckles grazed the brick wall that was in front of me, shrouded by the plush curtains. I held my scratched-up knuckle to my mouth and sucked on the metallic taste of the cut before I realized what I was doing.

  "Ugh." I felt disgusted with myself even though I'd done the same thing since I was a little kid. The palms of my hands suddenly felt cold and I could sense my magic surfacing like the beads of blood dotting my knuckles. My back tensed as I sensed someone watching me.

  I flattened myself against the wall and held my breath. Maybe they hadn't seen me. Maybe I could still find a way to get Gemma out of here. Sharp nails stabbed into my neck and I was thrown past my hiding spot into a lightness room. Maybe I was S.O.L.

  "Ow!" I landed on someone or, given where I was, more likely something. The sound of a door being closed came from the shadows and I felt someone grab my wrist. I raised my arm to slap their hand away.

  "It's me, Asch." My sister put her arm around me and gripped my right shoulder. I felt my magic surge to the surface and I struggled to channel it somewhere away from us. Raising my left palm to the ceiling, I imagined my fire swirling over us like an deadly chandelier. Light illuminated the room and I blinked, my eyes watering at the brightness.

  "Oh, Asch! That was so cool! How did you…" Gemma made a choking sound.

  "Are you okay?" I asked. I could see her now. Her face was suspended in a look of horror. I knew I didn't want to see whatever caused such terror, but I couldn't stop myself. Along the walls were at least six cots where blanketed figures lay. Beeping machines attached under the blankets, some connected to bags of fluids like I'd seen at the hospital. Each bed was hooked up to two plastic p
ouches filling, drip by drip, with what looked an awful lot like blood.

  "What is this?" I asked.

  "On-tap blood. You girls are in Savian's wine cellar." Cadence smiled at us and clasped her hands together. "Let's get on with this, shall we?" Cadence said. I readied a fireball, but, before I could release it, Cadence flicked her fingers at me and I floated into the air, the fire in my hand extinguished. Gemma peered at me from a crouch on the floor, her eyes shifting into cat-form. She hissed at Cadence who made a sweeping gesture, bringing my sister into the air beside me.

  We floated backwards until we reached a small window about ten feet up from the floor towards the back of the room. The glass shattered, but remained air-born, pouring out into the night. I looked a question at Cadence.

  "Get out. Now," Cadence said. The door behind her splintered in the middle as something large and heavy smashed into it from the other side. Gemma grabbed for the window and pulled herself out, still supported by the invisible force.

  "Why are you helping us?" I asked. Cadence lowered her eyes to the floor and bit her lower lip.

  "Savian's blood made me a vampire, but the magic I was born into makes me a witch." She gave me a tight smile "I suppose he'll exile me for this. What a pity."

  A strong wind pushed me through the window until I was suspended next to Gemma over an alley. Rainwater pooled in filthy puddles next to a dumpster bulging with garbage so rank I could smell from twelve feet in the air. A wolf howled from somewhere in the building and the glassless window frame slammed shut.

  "What now?" Gemma asked. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug just as the magic released us and gravity recaptured us with a vengeance.

  "Aim for the dumpster! Get to the garbage!" Gemma shouted. She gave me one hard shove and I flapped my arms towards the dumpster hoping her idea would work. The ground rushed towards me and I panicked, sending fire magic into the puddles of rain and making them boil. I was going to miss the dumpster! My upper body slammed against the side of the dumpster, knocking me onto the slimy concrete. I tried to breath, but I couldn't take any air into my lungs. I think my ribs were cracked.

  Gemma landed on her feet beside me and reached for me with a clawed hand. Her nose and mouth were pulled together, a muzzle forming. She said something to me, but I couldn't hear her. I could feel my pulse in my temple and a piercing buzz filled my ears.

  Rigel appeared from behind the dumpster and Gemma was already turning to fight him. He put his hands behind his back and said something to Gemma. He pointed to me as he spoke. Gemma nodded and let Rigel walk past her.

  I wriggled to get away from him, my eyes asking Gemma the questions I couldn't. Rigel placed one hand against my forehead and one against my chest. He's going to steal my power I thought. A warmth seeped from his hands into my head and chest and I gasped. I could breathe! My head was no longer throbbing and my ribs didn't ache. Rigel had healed me. I darted looks around the alley and let Gemma helped to my feet.

  "Uh, thanks," I said, still unsure of his purpose. The corner of his mouth twitched.

  "It's what I do," he said.

  "Are you gonna let us go?" Gemma asked. Rigel frowned.

  "That's not really up to me, girls. I heal. I don't hunt." The howling of wolves poured into the night. Rigel cupped a hand behind his ear and grinned. "But they do."

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Nice Kitty

  "C'mon!" Gemma grabbed my hand and pulled me after her, the thick padding on the palm of her hand felt both comforting and alien. I lifted my eyes to the moon which disappeared behind the smoke-gray clouds of the city. Shades of pink and purple peeked over the horizon like a timid bruise.

  Gemma moaned and doubled-over as fur grew in patches over her arms and legs, the slinky red material of her dress tearing like tissue. I patted her on the back, whispering that everything was okay even though I really didn't think it was. I could here the howling of the werewolves grow louder as they approached. The last of the change took over her body, forcing her onto her hands and knees until the transformation was complete.

  My sister regarded me with predatory eyes, but I knew the underlying threat was a promise made to others. I patted my thigh to tell Gemma to come with me before I noticed what I was doing and rolled my eyes. Gemma nipped me gently with her knife-like teeth and butted my hand with her head as if scolding me.

  "Sorry," I whispered. "Come on, Gem." We ran fast, not caring if we ended up in the wrong part of the city as long as we lost the werewolves. Although, I don't think anyone would attack a girl out for a morning jog with her panther. I smiled at the thought and glanced to my right where Gemma's movement slowed. Something on Gemma's neck glinted in the dim light cast by the overhead street-lamps

  The long beads of the necklace she'd worn now fitted her like a choker. I reached towards the necklace and felt a jolt of electricity as a bolt of blue light exploded behind us, hitting Gemma. She made a pained mewling sound and picked up her left rear paw. Anger overcame me and my magic stirred through my limbs.

  Daray stood about a block away, the huddled shapes of two werewolves slinking behind him. I called the fire up to my palms and threw several magical red spheres, but they only covered half the distance to Daray before falling to the wet concrete and sizzling to a rest in puddles of rainwater.

  "Crap." I held my palms out and breathed in, closing my eyes and concentrating on directing my power. Go to him. Take them. I thought. The force of my magic knocked me back as it left my body.

  I opened my eyes and saw Daray and one of the werewolves slapping at a wall of flames as it licked over them. Gemma rubbed her cheek against the lace of my skirt and growled softly. Another zigzag of cobalt light caught Gemma in the shoulder and at least ten more bolts headed towards us, snaking through the air like vines.

  "Run!" I cried. Gemma's lope was slow and clumsy as she turned and ran. I followed behind her, but covered only half a block before Daray's magic seized me. His power was liquid warm and just as heavy. My body dropped as the sensation of being dipped in a thick vat of honey enveloped me. Everything seemed to slow except for the blurry shapes moving in the distance.

  Forcing myself to fight through Daray's spell, I held on to Gemma's collar and used her strength to help pull myself up. She dragged me towards a dimly lit alley on our left and came to a stop next to a dumpster overflowing with soggy wooden boards and other construction material. Gemma sank to the pavement, an oil slick left over from local traffic throwing prisms of rainbow colors over her sleek black fur. Her whiskers tickled over my face and I felt tears sting my cheeks. She nuzzled the back of my hand with her mouth and then passed out, her breath puffing out in rapid heaves.

  "I'm so sorry Gemma. So sorry," I said. This was it, it was over. The only one of us with the ability to use offensive and defensive magic was me and I didn't feel up to a round of thumb-wrestling. I could see the sun more clearly now, the orange and red of the sunrise bleeding through the night's clouds, staining them with color. My eyes turned from the warmth of the rising sun and settled on the corner of the alley where shuffled footsteps halted and an unearthly howl erupted into the dawn.

  Using the last of my strength, I pushed Gemma off of my lap and used the chain-link fence behind me to help myself up. I ran towards the place where the howl came from and prayed I could distract Daray and his wolves long enough for Gemma to wake up and escape. The werewolves were just entering the alley when I stumbled past them in a stilted lope, leading them across the street. I ran for a tiny tree-deprived park with bright plastic playground equipment arranged in colorful shapes.

  One of the werewolves jumped at my back, knocking me to the ground. The sound of Daray cursing was followed by an injured yelp from one of the wolves. A shadow came closer with hurried footsteps and I was, suddenly, in Daray's arms. When I tried to shove him away from me, he pressed me against his body in a backwards hug and made shushing noises.

  "Fawne, get the car. Now! Leave Fiske where he is, I told him not to to
uch her," Daray smoothed the side of my face with his hand. "I just want to help you, Asch. I'm not going to hurt you unless you make me!" His breath was hot against my neck, his lips fluttering over my hair as he spoke. When I didn't respond, he shook me. "Asch, just do as I say, okay? I want to help you, that's all. Okay, Asch?"

  "Don't call me that!" I snarled. His grip on my arms grew painful and he spun me to face him. I tried to burn him with my hands, but he held my wrists away from us. A flicker of blue light shot from his fingertips and I felt my body sway as he shifted energy from me and into himself. Pain sparked over me and he let go of my hands, his eyes bled bluer than was humanly possible and he gazed out at me from two sapphire orbs.

  "I've never felt a power as purely raw as yours." He panted. "Your magic is a true mate to mine just as you are to me."

  Warlock say what?

  "Your mate? Get real, Daray," I said. His power grew around me. I could feel it reaching towards me, threatening to destroy me if I resisted.

  "I am Daray Valerian, Prince of Warlocks, it is my right to choose any warlock I see fit to be my bride and I've made my choice," he said.

  "Okay, first of all, I'm fifteen so this is so not going to happen. Second of all, I'm not even a full warlock, you said so yourself. I'm half witch. And, third, you're a cruel, evil, son of a bitch and I'd rather die than even kiss you, let alone marry you."

  "You're being of mixed-blood is of no consequence. It's obvious through your powers that you're more warlock than anything else. Unlike your sister who favors her witch-blood as a feline-shifter," he said. "I can teach you to use your powers in ways you've never imagined. I am the key to unlocking the powers your family has kept from you in their witch-ignorance. Now, come. The car is waiting for us and we have much to do before the ceremony."

  "The ceremony?" I asked, disbelieving his nerve.

  "I assume you'll want to be involved in the plans for your own wedding?" Daray asked.