by A C Spahn
Online research, courtesy of Kendall, led us to images that matched those I’d seen in the vision, pictures from a real estate listing out in the far suburbs. We piled into Desmond’s ten-year-old Subaru SUV for the drive inland. I was already wearing jeans and a shirt so spattered with paint it had become its own pattern, but I used a ribbon scrap from the store to tie back my long black hair. Desmond was likewise prepared for mud, and Kendall’s dark cargo pants and white t-shirt weren’t going to matter, since she’d be in her animal form.
Just as I was about to pull the car door shut, I caught a flash of movement from the alley between Crafter’s Haven and the neighboring pet shop. I squinted, itching to draw my sensory ring and use it to see further.
“Yo,” said Kendall. “Let’s go, slowpoke.”
I shook my head and slammed the door, then reached for my seatbelt. “I thought I saw something.”
“With specificity like that, you should be a doctor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It looked like an animal.”
“Probably just a stray cat,” said Desmond. “People drop them off outside the pet shop.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Probably.” But I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever I was watching had been watching me right back.
Desmond hopped on the freeway and headed away from the city. If we’d been coming from San Francisco proper, it would have taken ages, but the shop was part of the sprawl around the urban center, so we made better time. In fifteen minutes we left behind the larger suburbs and began passing through dry amber hills interspersed with towns.
“You guys owe me lunch,” said Kendall. “I’m supposed to be preparing for finals.”
“Since when do you study?” I asked.
Kendall scoffed. “I may be brilliant, but even I have to brush up on some things. Software engineers don’t grow on trees, you know.”
“Squirrels do.”
“Shut up.”
We pulled off the freeway onto a local highway heading out into the countryside. Soon we entered the middle of nowhere, passing a farm gate here, a ranch house there. Pastures flanked us on both sides, and the road could qualify as two lanes if you were being polite.
“There it is,” I said as the next ranch came into view. I recognized the peeling paint on the wooden fence and the rusty metal K hanging on the gate from the images I’d seen in the magic. A dirt road led toward a big stable and a ranch house, far back from the road across acres of overgrown grass. A faded For Sale sign clung to a bent metal post in the dirt.
“Nobody home,” said Desmond. He kicked the ancient For Sale sign. “Not for a long time.”
“Not legally, anyway,” I said. I glanced into the backseat at Kendall. “They won’t know you’re a shifter unless they touch you. So even if you’re seen, don’t panic. We just need to know if there’s any sign that someone is squatting in the buildings. Sleeping bags, canned food, that sort of thing.”
“Understood,” Kendall said. She opened the car door and glanced at Desmond. “By the way, my rent’s due next week. I’m still getting paid for today, right?”
Before he could answer, she laughed and shifted, shrinking in the time it takes to gasp. Her clothes fell in a pile of zippers and canvas, and her dangly dagger earrings clinked softly on top. A moment later, a russet-red squirrel wriggled out of her clothes. She twitched her ears at us, then hopped out onto the dirt path.
We watched Kendall scamper through the fence and disappear in the tall grass. I fought the uneasy fingers clawing at my gut. “How long do we have before the Void Union wants to talk to you?”
Desmond shrugged. “Tomorrow they’ll probably show up at the store.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“Honestly, I don’t have a lot of business with the Union anymore. Every Void gets a visit from them when they’re discovered. They give us a number to call, send us monthly emails, make us attend annual trainings.”
“Training, like fighting?”
“Some. Mostly it’s about how to recognize signs of supernatural activity, what’s normal and what’s not. I wouldn’t go, but …”
“It’s required.”
“And they put us up in nice hotels and provide free food. They have a bunch of full-time employees, but they only call people like me when there’s a threat that requires extra help.”
“The Volunteer Monster Brigade?”
“Something like that. They like me because of the swordsmanship and hand-to-hand training, since plenty of supernatural things can stop bullets.”
“Plus you’re a strong Void.”
“Yeah. That, too.” He fidgeted with the steering wheel. “I used to be more involved with them, but I’ve been keeping my distance lately. I haven’t been a serious part of the Union for years. Since before we met.”
“What happened?”
“Stuff I’d rather not get into right now. Just know that in the last few years, I’ve only helped them on half a dozen or so raids, and never against an enchanter.” He shifted in his seat so he faced me. “I know you probably don’t trust me anymore.”
I laughed before I realized he wasn’t joking. “I don’t trust you? What about you trusting me? You just found out I’m the enemy. For all I know, you’re just keeping me around so you can turn me in later.”
A wounded expression crossed his face. “Do you really think I could hide something like that? You’re the one always telling me I can’t keep secrets.”
I paused. “That’s true. But we’re still on opposite sides.”
“You said you don’t enchant other people.”
“I don’t.”
“Then you’re not the enemy.” He started to speak, then stopped, his expression guarded. The brown skin of his ears flushed. “I just ... I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I like having your shop in my store. I don’t want you to think you have to relocate.”
His eyes were earnest, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He licked his lips, and I found myself staring at the moisture left by his tongue. I wanted to lean closer, to brush those lips with my own, to show him that things hadn’t changed rather than fumble with clumsy words.
No. He wanted to stay friends. He’d just found out I wasn’t who he thought. This wasn’t the time to push for more. I couldn’t risk scaring him away.
Looking around for escape, I spotted something on the side of the road, and excitement overtook my unease. “Ooh,” I said and hopped out of the car.
“What?” asked Desmond. “Did you find a clue?”
I returned a moment later with a rusty horseshoe clutched in hand. I grinned and showed it to him. “Finders keepers.”
He studied the metal and gave an approving nod. “Not bad. What are you going to make out of it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I’ll give you five bucks for it.”
“You want it for some project?”
“It would look nice on the cabinet I’m making right now.”
I scoffed. “You’re just gonna stick a nail in and slap it onto something? Clumsy, clumsy. When will you learn to do real art?”
“You know they used nails and slapped it on the horse’s hoof, right? I’m maintaining the original ambiance.”
Again we tried to glare at each other. This time he broke first, and his laugh infected my own. See, I thought, this is good. No need to make things complicated.
Just as our laughter faded, movement down the dirt road caught my eye. A cloud of dust rose from the ground, moving toward us. I frowned and opened my door. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. I dug into my purse, a broad pleather handbag I’d sewn myself with lots of little dividers and pockets. I fished out my sensory ring and slipped it on. Six rhinestones glittered in the sunlight, alternating green and white. One for each enchantment on the gold band.
Immediately the world slowed. My senses heightened. Wind rushed by the car, roaring like thunder. Beneath its passing, I could make out growls and squeals and animal shriek
s. Mingled with the aromas of hay and grass I caught a whiff of fear.
Down the dirt road, the dust cloud was expanding. Through its slow movements, I spotted a small red shape sprinting toward the car. Behind, obscured in a veil of dust, followed a silhouette with claws.
I pulled the ring off and dug frantically into my purse. “Grab a weapon,” I warned Desmond. “A shitstorm is heading our way.”
Chapter 5
WE CHARGED UP THE ROAD, battle-ready. I wore the maximum number of enchanted items I could handle at once: two rings, two bracelets, a necklace and an anklet, each endowed with a different ability. In my pockets I had another half dozen rings and two more necklaces in case I needed them. Desmond had drawn a full-sized longsword from the RenFaire gear he kept in his trunk, and he’d shucked his denim jacket to reveal a pocket knife strapped to his belt.
Kendall bounded toward us, muscular hind legs propelling her forward. Her eyes were wide with fear, her fur standing on end. Her tail streamed behind her like a pennant.
The creature chasing her could only be described as a monster.
It was vaguely dog-shaped, but its head lolled to one side. Its pointy ears were a disturbing blend of human and canine, as if someone had lengthened the pink flesh by dangling a man from the rafters. The dog-thing’s eyes were crazed, as mad as the man who attacked us at Crafter’s Haven.
I aimed one of my rings at it and was about to activate an enchantment when movement in the overgrown field grabbed my attention. Another dog-thing was careening through the grass, aiming to cut Kendall off just before she reached us. I glanced to the other side, to see a third attacker closing in. Just how many of these things were there?
“Desmond, left!” I shouted, and broke off to intercept the one coming from the right. I just hoped Kendall could outrun the dog-man-thing on the road, because for the moment she was on her own. I aimed my ring at the monster barreling through the grass. The plain silver band glinted in the sunlight as I tapped its magic.
A baseball-sized fist of air formed around the ring and shot toward the approaching monster. It struck the shape in the grass, and I heard a yelp of pain. I was about to throw another punch of air when a familiar pressure buzzed along my skin. Kadum, kadum, kadum!
“Not now!” I cried. The dog monster in the road was closing on Kendall, and my attack had only slowed the one in the grass. I couldn’t see what Desmond was doing, but I heard the scrape of steel on flesh, along with growls and a furious battle cry.
Magic swirled around me, burrowing under my fingernails and scratching in my ears. It was chaotic, unfocused, not concentrated like normal raw magic. I had to release it, now. I yanked my necklace off, activated its enchantment, and quickly tied it in a knot. I set it in the dirt next to the grass, then pulled out a strand of my own hair and laid it connecting the necklace and the edge of the field. Be a knot, I chanted. Bind what is within. Entangle, twist, snag.
It was a bad enchantment and a terrible focus, but the channel saved it. Human hair could handle a good amount of magic, though it wasn’t very efficient. Unfortunately I overloaded the strand I’d laid out, and it promptly burst into flames. The necklace jumped as if I’d stuffed it with firecrackers, but most of the congealing magic made it through into the grassy field. The grass stems became a subtly brighter green. The overgrown blades and weeds began leaning toward each other, weaving lattices and tying knots. The monster I’d shot yelped again as plants snared its feet and bound themselves to its body.
Magic was still closing in on me, but I’d bought myself time to think. Kendall scrambled up my leg and onto my shoulder. The dog-thing leaped for us, mouth frothing, claws unsheathed.
I called up the enchantment in the thick copper bracelet on my left wrist. Magic sprang from it, taking solid form in the shape of a knife in my hand. I stabbed upward as the beast tackled me, driving the point into its chest. It howled in pain, thrashing to get its teeth around my neck. Kendall made a terrified chittering noise and half-lurched forward, as if trying to psych herself up to fight back. “Flight, not fight, Kendall!” I shouted. “Dogs eat squirrels, you idiot!”
Needing no more encouragement, Kendall leaped off my shoulder and dashed toward the car. The dog-thing lunged at me again, throwing its heavy shoulder against my stomach. Its jaws snapped toward my arm. We fell together in a tangle of limbs and fur. The creature landed on top of me, and I called the enchantment in my other bracelet to enhance my strength and push the beast off.
Dagger still in hand, I activated my air ring and threw several punches at the beast. They struck it in the nose, disorienting it. Before I could drive it off, though, the ring ran out of magic. The dog-thing lunged blindly for me, and I tapped my other ring, this one a thin wire braid woven with lavender beads.
A shield of pale purple light formed between me and the beast. The monster crashed against it and crumpled like water breaking on a wall.
Behind me, the creature in the grass loosed itself from my trap and made it to the edge of the field. This one was similar to the first, except its fur was blond and its ears fully canine. Its deformed shoulders hunched in a lump on its back.
It stepped over my tangled necklace and triggered the enchantment I’d activated. The silver chain and crystal pendant jumped from the ground, latching onto the creature’s bleeding nose. In theory the magic was supposed to stop blood loss from wounds, but for the monster the sudden pressure closing on its snout felt like an attack. It snarled and spun in a circle, trying to free itself from its metal symbiont.
The monster with the tall ears continued battering my shield, getting closer to breaking it with every second. I dug the sensory ring from my pocket and slipped it on, discarding my spent air ring in the process. Instantly the dog-thing’s movements slowed. I timed his attack, then dropped my shield and ducked in with another stab of the enchanted dagger. This one struck home, burying itself in his ribs. The monster thrashed away, ripping the dagger from my hand. The blade evaporated instantly in a puff of mist. The monster fell, dead.
I stood panting, proud, until the weight of the magic I’d been holding back crashed in on me. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by the waves of pain pounding my skull, my fingers, my toes. This magic was anarchy, chaos, uncertainty. It wanted to be shaped, craved form and direction. It needed those things, like a starving man needs bread.
My sight blurred, and I reached out, fumbling in the dirt. My fingers closed on a fistful of writhing fur. Beneath it I felt a deformed lump, a mass of flesh atop canine shoulders—the second dog-thing, still fighting with my enchanted necklace.
I had no other options. Ignoring the spasms of the monster, I shoved my other hand in the rocky gravel road. Some of the pebbles pushed their way up my sleeve, tickling my wrist. I sent the oppressive magic into the rocks, then up one paint-spattered shirt sleeve and down the other into the dog-thing. Be still as stone, I chanted. Be serene as a boulder. Struggle no more than a mountain fights against the winds of time.
Power surged around me, flowing into the beast. The creature stiffened under my touch as the new enchantment took hold. As my vision started to clear, I saw a new black line curving and tracing a circular pattern on its hunched shoulders.
The magic finished flowing. The entire storm of power dispersed at once. My skull lightened, freed from the burden that had threatened to crush me. The dog monster stood still, seemingly relaxed, and for a moment I felt relief that my makeshift enchantment hadn’t hurt it, had in fact helped calm it down. Then I realized why it wasn’t moving. Its eyes roamed wildly, and tiny, panicked breaths puffed its chest in and out.
I’d done more than calm it. I’d paralyzed it.
Feeling sick, I retrieved my necklace from the creature’s nose, deactivating its enchantment so the silver chain went limp. I looked back up the road. Desmond was wading out of the grass, his sword slick with blood. Kendall had reached the car, and was now climbing out of the backseat in her clothes once more.
There was no way t
o hide what I’d done. Desmond would see it. I stared at the new tattoo line on the frozen dog-thing’s hump. My gaze traced it to the network of other tattoos winding from the creature’s temples, down his chest and along his legs.
I’d enchanted a human. Whether he was under previous enchantments or not, that was a crime. And as a member of the Void Union, Desmond was supposed to kill me.
Chapter 6
DESMOND PULLED A CLOTH from his jeans pocket and rubbed it along his sword, cleaning the blade of blood. I watched him, my heart in my throat, awaiting the inevitable. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that I’d enchanted a person. Or maybe he’d notice, but wouldn’t care. After all, the dog-thing had been about to kill me, and was already insane from the other enchantments on him. One more wouldn’t have hurt him any further.
Right. Maybe I should ask the Union to send me a thank-you card and flowers, too.
Kendall eyed Desmond’s sword. “You do this often?”
“What?” he asked.
“Killing paranormals.”
He paused, his eyes troubled. “I wouldn’t say often.”
“But this isn’t the first time,” I said. Gulp.
He sighed and sheathed the blade. “What are these things? They used to be human, I put together that much. But they don’t look like any shifters I’ve ever seen.”
“They aren’t,” I said. The tension in my chest loosened. Could I really be this lucky? I pointed to the enchantment tattoos covering the dead dog-thing’s chest. “See how there are several different lines? Each of those is an enchantment.”
Desmond let out a low whistle. “He was under as many as the fire breather from the store.”
“More. Layering enchantments like this is delicate work. Each one requires more magic, which increases the chance of messing up, plus it has to harmonize with whatever enchantments are already there.” I fingered my sensory ring in my pocket. “The most I’ve ever managed on one object was six, and those were all very similar enchantments. This guy had the wolf-shifting one, plus it looks like one that tried to make him stronger—hence the deformed muscles. And there are several more here that I wouldn’t be able to identify unless I took their magic out. If I had to guess, the shifting enchantment was first, and that’s the one that stole his mind.”
