Every one of the Powers would have a tattoo that covered their left cheek and neck; a mark to show who created them. With this light, those markings were invisible.
"We're waiting." The center Power continued to slap the pipe against his hand. The other four flanked him, two on each side.
Powers tended to dress stereotypically. Worn leather, knee-high boots, ripped shirts, and lack of bathing. Any of them would fit right in any dystopia film or book. They also tended to be…violent.
Sam lowered her hand from Kyle's face but kept her gaze locked on the little group. She narrowed her eyes. Why were Powers out in the swamp with a "guest" just past midnight? They probably weren't on their own. Worst case scenario here would be their Virtue was nearby. But she didn't smell anything Planar; especially not an Angelic being.
They were the worst.
Sam held the hand she'd slapped against Kyle's face and motioned for him to stay back. They were both God Mother's children. Both were capable of wielding magic. But Mother's blood worked differently in each of her children. For Sam, her specialty was healing. Yet she'd learned through teachers and self education the same force used to heal, could also be used to kill.
Her friend Ivan possessed magic along a more…technologically confusing path.
But Kyle…
Kyle was what her mother would have called a Hedge Witch. Hoodoo. A bruja with herbs, potions and ritual. It'd taken a few years to work some of his magic into more convenient method, but she was pretty sure he wasn't armed with any of those methods.
After all, they were out to gather Jasmine for a special spell. No one thought there would be Powers out in the swamp. Especially not in a town Sam worked hard at to clean away the Planar stink. Yet these bastards had snuck in without raising any of her alarm wards.
How?
Before she stepped out from the copse of pine trees, Sam reached behind her to make sure her weapons were where they should be, the buttons holding them in place inside the back pockets of her jeans unfastened. Never know when she might have need of them.
A twin pair of .38 specials, short barrels. Wooden handles with the names Lord on one and Lady on the other. They were blessed, sanctified, and fully loaded.
Of course, she'd only use the guns as a last resort.
Sam lowered her hands and snapped her fingers. The power of her ancestor's blood ignited. To those with any magical sight, her hands burned with the blue white Witch Fire. The Fire itself wasn't really a weapon—but damn if it didn't look cool.
Because when she stepped out into the small clearing, the four flanking Powers stepped back, their body language suggesting an initial instinct for flight. After all…it was rumored the God Mother's Children could destroy all things made by the Planar Gods.
"Hello boys," Sam said in her best Mae West. She noticed the Power on the end and gave a short laugh. "And…female." The girl didn't really look like a female. Her head was shaved and silver metal rings pierced the outer rims of her ears. She was flat chested with a straight line body shape.
"Shit!"
"Aw fuck…c'mon Bobby. That's a freak'n Witch."
"We don't want no troubles with no Mama's kids," the one on the far left said. He was a bit wider than the others and Sam guessed he was a local.
"A Witch huh?" Pipe-Boy said as he snarled at Sam. He had metal in his face too, but the shadows were still too dense for her to make out where. But she was pretty sure he had rings in his noise, eyebrows, and lips. "I ain't afraid of no Witch. And we done promised Dumah we'd bring him a new one." He spit to the side.
Gross.
Sam sensed Kyle moving in the woods behind her. She also sensed the cloaking spell he'd used, something the two of them had come up with as a sachet he kept around his neck. All he had to do to activate it was grab it and whisper the trigger word.
So far so good. None of the Powers looked to the woods. Her only concern was—where was he going? He was supposed to stay put!
The front man said Dumah. Had to be the Virtue that created them. Dumah…she wasn't familiar with the name. But there were about as many Virtues in the Realm of the Angels as there were Daemons in the Dark Realm.
She compared them to Pigeons.
Sam smiled. "So this new one. He the guy behind you?"
The four back up singers continued to move out of the way and left Pipe-Boy at home plate. The guy had stopped struggling on the ground. Sam couldn't tell if he was a kid or a grown adult. All of the Powers she'd seen had been adults. She didn't want to think about how she'd react if she ever met a child Power.
"That's Dumah's new toy." Pipe-Boy laughed. It was a juicy sound. "We need to be six strong—"
"Sshh!" The Bubba Power said. "Bobby! You can't be tell'n a Witch this stuff!"
"Aw screw you, Teddy. I ain't afraid of no Witch." He faced Sam again. "She's ain't nothing but a little thing. If my junk still worked, I'd be gett'n me some of Mama's child."
Sam sighed. This one grossed her out. But he was typical of the type of human the Virtues chose. Nobodies. Low lives. Scum. It would be a pretty dangerous day indeed if they ever created a Power with brains. "Sorry—Bobby—but I'm afraid I'm too much of a woman for you." She looked at the others. "So I'm guessing your Virtue is due to arrive?"
"He's already here."
The Powers's reaction to their creator was surprising, even to Sam. They all went down on their knees, even Pipe-Boy Bobby.
The Virtue exited the woods to Sam's left. He created a light where he moved and illuminated the soft, loamy earth. His feet barely touched the ground. He wore a pressed, expensive Italian suit and, in a word, he was beautiful.
But then, they all were. Monsters were always nice to look at. Their beauty sucked the innocent in.
He had his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his suit jacket covering his wrists. His face was soft featured and his hair a light blond with darker highlights. The guy reminded her of Justin Timberblake. Like in Social Network.
"Dumah, I presume?" Sam kept her voice even. She wasn't afraid of him. Virtues were little more than worker bees. In the past two months she'd banished a Cherubim, for crying out loud. And they were First Choir!
How hard was it going to be to kick a Virtue back where it belonged?
Dumah stood in front of the kneeling Bobby and smiled. He looked sideways at me. "Yes. And you are Samantha Hawthorne. Second daughter of a Second daughter, and a child of the God Mother. Your helix is healing—much like Raphael's."
"You know Raphael?" Raphael was a Cherubim, brother to Gabriel, whose butt she kicked back in February. It was odd that a Virtue would speak of a Cherubim with such familiarity. The two Choirs rarely connected, as far as she knew.
"Yes. I know many things, Witch. For instance, I know you have great power. I know you could ignite every Power in this space with a single spell. And I know you have the power to send me back to the Ethereal." He smiled. So coy. So…irritating. "But you won't."
Sam frowned. "I won't? Why? Because you'll ask me not to?"
"No." He pulled his hand from his pocket and held it up. Hanging from his thin fingers was the sachet Kyle wore for his invisibility spell. "You won't because if you do, you'll never find your friend."
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