Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series)

by Morgan Blayde

  “I’d say so.” I stared over his shoulder. His father smiled warmly. And I noticed the man wore a priest’s collar on his suit. I shifted my gaze back to Fenn.

  He stopped, looked back at his father, the father, and faced me, grinning nervously. “Uh, this is uh, Father Vincentia, from the Vatican.”

  Yeah, right. “You guys carry on. I’m just stepping out on the porch for a little air.”

  “That’s not advised,” the guard said. “We’re short personnel around the lodge while the perimeter is being reinforced.”

  The highway was half a mile up the dirt road, screened by trees. Those trees were covered with good guys. Even if some sniper could get close enough for a shot, the people after me wouldn’t take it—they needed me alive. Unless someone had infiltrated us, to strike from the inside, I’d be fine. Only one I needed to keep an eye on was Ryan, but he’d fought for me, risking his life during the zombie attack. I was convinced he’d turned over a new leaf. Any way, his changing into a mothman would take time. If I saw it happening, I’d run for help first thing. No, I was safe every way I looked at things.

  I smiled sweetly at my guard and started for the front door. “I have absolute faith you’ll keep me safe.”

  “Grace,” Fenn called, “do you want company?”

  “No.” I kept going. Fenn stayed where he was. That pissed me off even more than him talking about me behind my back. Guys are supposed to know when no really means yes.

  I went outside with my guard. He muttered into his headset, keeping everyone advised of my movements. This was going to get old fast. I stomped over to the corner of the wrap-around porch, smelling Ryan just around the corner. But something was wrong with his scent. It was more … crap! He’s changed.

  I backed toward my guard.

  The mothman rounded the corner. His tongue, a red blur, shot past my head, coming and going. I spun to run and saw the Marine going down, a red spot between his eyes where a major nerve center had just been struck. The guy had his hand on his holstered gun as he crumpled to the porch. I opened my mouth to scream for help when I was grabbed from behind.

  Next thing I knew, I was being pulled straight up, into the cold dark sky.

  EIGHTEEN

  The lodge receded rapidly. The night absorbed us without fuss, a clean getaway, except I didn’t want to go anywhere. “Put me down, you sweater-chewing freak!” I kicked my feet, squirming in his hold. One arm slipped free and I dangled precariously, as we lurched unsteadily over the pine forest. I swung my free arm up and seized his arm.

  I’m an idiot.

  I could no longer go into the ghost realm to ensure soft landings, and I’d almost made Ryan drop me. Had I gone splat, he’d say, “My bad,” but I’d be dead. Best not to go there.

  I closed my eyes a few moments, and drew deep, calming breaths. Packing my anger into a small, imaginary box, I saved it for later. Panic remained, amplifying to epic proportions as I started to lose my grip. I slid down his arm, my heart pounding painfully in my chest, a scream building in my throat.

  Then his free hand caught hold of my collar. The material choked. I hacked, coughing weakly.

  Damn it, Ryan…!

  He adjusted his hold so I could breathe, and angled down toward the shadowed trees flowing under us that capped an ocean of deeper darkness. My heart fluttered with anticipation and dread. I watched for suspicious movements as we descended. Just hours ago, these same trees had kept us from pursuing the ISIS hit team. I doubted the witches were still around, but some of their animosity might linger in the murky branches.

  As we neared the ground, I relaxed just a little. There was swaying with the wind, but none of the limbs tried to stab, whip, crush, beat or bludgeon us to a pulp. I thought of all the ways evil trees could rip us to shreds, and cursed my active imagination which made fear so much stronger.

  Ryan let me go as my feet scuffed into the detritus of old pine needles. I ran a few steps to get my balance, thought I had it, then fell on my face. Acrid fumes stung my nose, the only part of me still going strong.

  Damn it. I’m not in any kind of shape for this right now. What was Ryan thinking…?

  My hands clawed the powdery earth under the long-shed pine needles as I levered myself up and rolled to a sitting position. With my aura as weak as it was, the mid-October winds bit through my clothes. The cold had been there before, but terror had distracted me from it.

  My heart settled to a less frantic pace, even though my kidnapper shambled up to loom over me, wings fanned behind him, shivering from the recent strain of carrying us both. Branches diffused the silvery moonlight, splattering Ryan with ghostly smears as he squatted to stare me in the face. He ran a fuzzy hand along my arm, staunched some primal need with the contact. His eyes glowed, monstrous rubies, tinting the brown filaments of his antennae. They seemed to be seeping blood, waving languidly, snatching messages from the air I could only guess at.

  “So, now what?”

  He only stared.

  I sighed. Apparently, as a mothman, he either lacked the human intelligence to understand me, or the vocal equipment to answer. I wondered what he’d do if I simply headed back toward Spirit Ranch. I leaned forward, putting my hands on the ground to push myself up.

  He settled a large hand on my shoulder and applied enough force to keep me where I was.

  “Okay, we’ll enjoy the nightscape a little longer.”

  If I were back at full strength, I’d drop kick him in the face and run, trusting on my running skills and endurance to keep me out of his clutches. After all, the tree branches would hide me if he were too high, and would slow him down if he tried flying at my level. But I wasn’t close to recovered yet. That meant I had to stay until someone came after me.

  His hand went back to stroking my arm.

  I shrugged him off, leaned back, and crossed my arms. “No more touchy-feely crap. If I can’t be happy, you can’t either.”

  He settled back, claws furrowing the pine needles. A swirl of raspberry muted the crimson blaze of his compound eyes. He ducked his head into shadow, shuddering. A keening sound escaped him, “Nnnnnnnauuuugh … crap, that hurts.” He lifted his head. The antennae were wilting. Facial fuzz sloughed off, revealing pale skin, human features, and human eyes. Some of the fur on his upper chest puffed off on the wind like gray-brown dandelion fluff. He caressed his throat with human fingers. His voice sounded gruff and strained, “Never was that good at … half-shifting.” His wings fluttered a few beats then stilled.

  I glared at him. “So maybe now you want to tell me what the hell this is all about … before I kick your scrawny butt to the moon.”

  “She wants to see you. She made me bring you.”

  “The witch? Son of a bug! You’ve sold me out!” I scanned the surrounding trees, my hands balling into fists.

  He raised his hands defensively, warding off my anger. “No, not ISIS.”

  “Who, damn it?”

  But I already knew. I could smell them closing in. Not human, not moth, but a blend of both, a smell musty and sharp. Whirring and an odd greenish-yellow light announced their descent from the treetops. They landed in silent ranks around us, crimson eyed, feathery antennae waving, human torsos covered with fur that ranged from silver gray, to brown, to black. There were about thirty-five, maybe forty.

  A third of the mothmen were accompanied by flying beetles the size of my hand. Their pets produced the sour light from elongated tails. Fireflies, on a scale I’d never heard of before. The beetles fluttered about in complex orbits, then settled on the surrounding tree branches, becoming bobbing lanterns, blinking coded messages to each other.

  For a second, I thought I was back in my dream where I’d last seen this bunch. Coincidence, or was I turning psychic? I should dream up some winning lotto numbers while I’m at it. I shook my head to dislodge the thought. Focus. You’re surrounded by critters that have no reason to love you. You’re in enemy territory.

  I swung my stare back to Rya
n. “So how much trouble am I in here?”

  “You’re with me. Don’t worry.” He lurched to his feet, hands morphing back into scythe-like claws. “I’ll protect you, always.”

  Somehow, that didn’t comfort me.

  The constricting ring of mothmen did that half-shift thing, becoming more human than bug. Moonlight shafting through the skeletal canopy and vanishing moth fuzz exposed male and female torsos. It was weird to see bare breasts, and none of the stupid ogling guys do. I supposed, shifting form a lot, they were used to nakedness. Better them than me; I didn’t think I’d ever be that comfortable, not that I had much to show off.

  The mothmen … and mothwomen … stopped, with only two of them coming inside their ring. They were a couple, male and female. The guy was bony, thin, and at least seven feet tall. What fur he had left was black with faint gray whirls that reminded me of a tabby. I looked into his hard face, his excited eyes were human except for red irises. He walked with an expectation that others would scurry out of his way. He wasn’t disappointed. This was someone used to being obeyed.

  Note to self; watch the sass—you want to get out of here alive.

  The woman next to him spoke, drawing my gaze, “So you’re what all the fuss is about.” Her tone let me know I hadn’t made a great first impression and my second wasn’t likely to be much better.

  I nodded. “Grace Kenyon. Pleased to meet you.” I wasn’t pleased at all, but my mom had taught me to be polite until I had good reason not to be—and then be even nicer; confuses the enemy.

  “Everybody wants you, Grace Kenyon. The feds had you under lock and key, the witches want you bad enough to risk our anger, bringing their magic into our woods, marching dead things through our holy groves.” Her eyes went to Ryan, absorbing his hunched, tenseness, how he kept close to me. “Even our little brother has fallen under your charms,” she studied me dispassionately, “whatever those might be.”

  Bitch. I didn’t say it out loud, but she saw the anger in my face.

  She smiled. A glitter of delight danced across dark eyes. She stepped closer and murmured, “Truth hurts, huh?”

  This time I said it, “Bitch.”

  She slapped me across the face, rocking my head with more than human strength, lifting me off my feet. The world canted. I fell, hard. And I’d never seen her move at all. She was fast. Faster than Ryan. He’d been unable to do a thing, except squawk afterwards.

  “Serena, stop! There’s no reason to hurt her.”

  “Isn’t there? She disrespected me.”

  “You provoked her,” Ryan said. “If I’d known you were going to be this way, I wouldn’t have—”

  Hearing a choking sound, I pulled myself together, lifting my head. My face hurt, and I thought I might have a concussion. For a moment, there was double vision. It resolved itself and I saw Ryan dangling off the ground. Serena had his throat in her hands. The big guy with her had stepped in and captured Ryan’s wrists. He could only thrash like a fish out of water.

  “I wasn’t going to deal with you until later, little brother. However, if you’ve forgotten your place, I am willing to remind you.” She let go of his throat and embraced him. He seemed totally shocked by the gesture and very much afraid. But, as if some spell had engulfed him, he relaxed. A dreamy bliss melted alarm from his face.

  The unnaturalness of it goaded me to my feet. My guts churned in warning; something really bad was coming. “Let him go,” I yelled.

  Ryan sighed happily as she reached behind him and gripped the edges of his wings, caressing them. “I forgive you for running away from the clan, but a price must still be paid. My word must remain law.” She snapped the edges, and tore pieces from his wings, a sound like splintering celery and ripping cloth.

  Shrill, piercing, Ryan screamed like a soul waking up in hell, then slumped.

  The big guy dropped him in a heap.

  Serena knelt and gathered Ryan’s pale face, kissing him sweetly on the mouth. “There, mommy make better now.”

  “You’re insane!” I hissed.

  She flowed back to her feet and turned gracefully, smile still in place. “What’s your point?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “An even better question is ‘What are we going to do with you now?’”

  Ryan stretched out a convulsive hand to grasp her ankle. His ragged voice fought to be heard. “Please, Serena. Don’t hurt her. I love her.”

  Serena brightened, smiling wider. A lunatic light in her eyes made her scarier than ever. “You do? Why, that’s wonderful. An addition to the family! We should have ourselves a wedding.”

  I was about to say “hell no” when I noticed Ryan looking at me with a pleading expression, his eyes wide and dark with pain and fear. The fear was for me. I suddenly realized that refusing might well get me killed. This was going to be the first shotgun wedding ever with the muzzles pointed at the bride. I should just agree, and buy time to escape. Surely Cassie and Fenn were on my trail by now.

  I pressed my lips tightly shut, saying nothing.

  Serena nodded approval. “You’re not as stupid as I thought.”

  Her huge companion moved quickly, appearing beside me with blinding speed. One of his huge hands completely circled my neck. I kept absolutely still. One sharp jerk and I’d be dead before hitting the ground. He hissed in my ear. “She complimented you. Say thank you.” His fingers loosened enough for shallow breathing.

  I ground out the words, “Thank you.”

  “Keep me happy,” Serena said. “It is your only hope of avoiding suffering beyond all imagination.”

  Released, I stood there, gasping, coughing a little, and trying not to fall. Tears brimmed in my eyes. I tried not to spill them. That would give the bug queen and her enforcer too much enjoyment. What was with these moth people? Did the whole bunch slither on their bellies to lick her feet? Serena had created for herself the very world ISIS sought to bring about. Seeing the reality hardened my resolve. ISIS needed stopping at all costs.

  Wait a minute, there was something in mothman social dynamics I was missing. My mind went back to Ms. Griffin’s lecture of pheromones, how the female left a chemical trail in the air that called males to her from miles away. When Ryan stood near me, he’d escaped Serena’s spells. Then she got closer, holding him against her body—flooding his senses—until he went all Fruit Loops in the head.

  She rules them by sense of smell!

  Serena snapped fingers that were just a little too long to be human, twitching her wings with impatience. Those tissue-thin membranes were dusky purple with dot and circle patterns on them that looked like owl eyes. They watched me with unblinking interest as the females of the tribe joined Serena. She pointed at me with a curved claw. “Take her. Get her ready for the bonding.”

  They fell on me—a tsunami, latching onto my arms, legs, and torso—and shared my weight among them, their laughter eerie and sinister, and their faces thin and long with a beauty separate from humanity. I kicked and writhed as they ripped off my clothing. In this weather I’d die of exposure uncovered, from embarrassment if nothing else. My shoes thudded to the ground. Claws shredded my sweats. I couldn’t stop them. Pieces of cloth littered the forest floor as they carried me through the pathless forest, attended by many of the overgrown fireflies. Now, I was glad Jill still had my grandmother’s locket. Otherwise, it might well vanish in this forest, never to be found again. Or one of these bitches might have found and kept it. It was the smallest of silver linings, but all I had to fortify me.

  Someone followed with an unsteady gait. Ryan cried out, voice harsh, in the gutter with the pain, “Grace, don’t fight. I’m sure you’re strong enough to survive the change. It won’t be so bad, becoming one of us. We’ll be together.” I heard him falter and fall to his knees. His voice became a near whisper, “I’ll have you … forever.”

  What the Hell! He’s talking about more than marriage. They’re going to turn me into a mothwoman too.

  The realization froze me mid-struggle. I sw
allowed the concept, then fought all the harder.

  NINETEEN

  Someone stunned me with a blow to the head. Darkness tried to swallow me whole, but I clung to my senses, going limp in their claws. My head ached, as double-vision returned. Really, people are simply going to have to stop smacking me around. I could get brain damage.

  With phantom hands, I seized the folds of space and twisted, tying to haul myself into the ghost realm. My skin tingled. My stomach fluttered with shifting gravity, but nothing else occurred. Those sensations went away, leaving me stranded in my own world, stuck. They were making my wedding bed and I was going to have to lie in it.

  Unless … Taliesina! If I can call her forth... Please, I need you.

  Nothing.

  Maybe she was a heavy sleeper. Maybe she wanted me to be a mothwoman, or didn’t care. Or maybe she thought I needed to solve this on my own. Whatever the case, she didn’t answer. Would have been too convenient I suppose. Just have to wait for an opening.

  Meanwhile, I tried to pay attention to where we were going. We reached an area where a forest fire had cleared the hickory and sandjack. Shortleaf pine was just beginning to dominate. I saw the remnant of summer grape and greenbrier, made bare and ugly by autumn. Fewer leaves in the canopies meant more moonlight, silvering the edges of things, casting blue shadows over the ground. A stream burbled somewhere close. We approached a spooky black oak with massive girth and heavy serpentine limbs that looked like their very weight ought to rip them off the tree. Whatever fire had swept through here hadn’t managed to touch the ancient tree. It looked to have spanned centuries, rooted in a time beyond imagining.

  Like a sack of potatoes, they spilled me to the ground under the gnarled branches. The mothwomen surrounded me, but not tightly. This let the icy wind crawl over me, exploring freely. With my clothing and shoes long gone, I could only squat and hug my knees to my chest for warmth, enduring, teeth chattering. It was hard to tell in the fey lunar light if I was turning blue or not. Sure felt like it.