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Her Lying Days Are Done

Page 12

by Robert J. Crane


  “Do we still have the bags?” I asked.

  Iona hoisted a tattered red backpack of Xandra’s before letting it sag back to the ground with a thump.

  “Okay, good,” I said. But it really didn’t make me feel any better.

  I touched the messy bun on top of my head for the hundredth time, making sure that the stakes that Lockwood had procured for me were still securely stuck in there. I was glad to have some stakes back. It felt like it had been weeks, even though it had been less than a day I'd been back on Earth.

  My throat was tight, my eyes darting at the first sign of any movement.

  As long as Lockwood kept up his spell, we would be safe. We had been safe up until this point. By now his face was papery pale, his eyelids sagging with exhaustion, his lips dry and cracking from his ceaseless muttering.

  I looked at Iona and Jed. “Okay, let’s go over it one more time.”

  Iona rolled her eyes as she snapped on a pair of leather gloves, her silvery hair flowing behind her as she shook her head. “Again?”

  Okay, maybe I was stalling a little bit. I had to wrap it up before dawn, before Iona would burn off like a Roman candle in the sunlight.

  “Our biggest issue right now is the sorcerers,” I said. “Without them, the vampires can’t track us, right?”

  Iona nodded, clearly not wanting to play along right now. She was ready to fight, too, one eye on the eastern horizon and the lightening sky. The talking was not only meaningless to her but could potentially get her killed if we dragged it out too long.

  “Without the ability to track us, we can hide again until we can figure out our next move,” I said, scanning the field again. Still not a soul out here but us.

  Jed flexed his arms, rolling his shoulders just like I had seen his dad do.

  “On top of that, whatever happened to Mill was because their spell hit him. Since we have no idea how to cure it, we need to take one of them alive. Incapacitate them somehow.”

  “Yes, we know,” Iona said. “Can we get on with this? Night is fading, and there's not enough sunscreen in this state to protect me from a fatal sunburn if this drags on until daylight.”

  “They should make an SPF 10,000 for vamps,” I said, and looked back at Lockwood. He stuttered his next chant, then blinked himself back awake. He was ready to be done.

  But I was afraid. I didn’t know if I was ready for this or not. The idea of facing the sorcerers down again…the image of Dad’s body flying across the room came to me, followed by the thought of Mill getting struck and taken out of the fight, of Laura taking the shot on the stairs that had been intended for me…

  I hated vampires. And they frightened me.

  But witches had magic. And after being in Faerie, I realized just how scary magic was, especially magic that Lockwood couldn’t easily protect us against.

  I took a shuddering breath. “Lockwood?” I said, hearing the crack in my own voice. “…Drop the spell.”

  With my words, Lockwood ceased his, and he gasped for air behind me, coughing and sputtering. We had brought some water for him, which he took from Iona and began chugging. The plastic bottle crinkled loudly in his strong grip, making me wince as I stared around into the darkness.

  It was quiet for about three heartbeats, before—

  “Here they come,” Iona said, turning, falling into a defensive stance.

  I heard growling and turned to see Jed with his teeth bared, staring out into the darkness. It was still strange to see an Amish kid with us, let alone knowing he was a mythical werewolf. For now, though, he remained human, though the noises he was making suggested otherwise.

  It took a second before I saw it. Swirling green sparkles filled the air about thirty feet away, like a cyclone of glowing glitter and light.

  “Jed? Are you ready?” I asked, not even turning to look at him. Lockwood’s breathing was still heavy behind me.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, a lot more eager than I was. This was a man who'd never actually battled vampires or sorcerers, I knew, one who'd never felt the touch of danger hitting the people he loved.

  But I knew those feelings.

  And yet...

  I was ready.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter 19

  The spells were flying before I even knew what was happening. Greens and reds and blues, all darting from the two witches that had appeared on the field in front of us.

  Two. My brain was only registering two magic users as I ducked and weaved around, attempting to avoid the spells flying toward us. Where was the wizard?

  Lockwood had cast a shield spell, much like the one he had made back at Byron’s house. All of the spells that the witches were throwing at us were sparking off of it and disappearing into the night.

  “I can’t hold this for very long,” Lockwood said through gritted teeth.

  “No need,” Jed said with a wild grin on his face. “The cavalry is coming.”

  And with that, I watched as Jed transformed. He sprouted fur so fast it was as if he were being drenched in a wave. His nose elongated, his limbs stretched and bent like a wolf’s. He stood on all fours, and even still, he was nearly as tall as I was. He turned and looked at me, shaking out coppery fur that was the same color as his hair. His eyes, weirdly, were the same shade of blue, and I could see the intelligence in them.

  He growled, low and deep in his chest before unleashing a howl into the night.

  And I jumped as twenty or thirty howls came back in answer.

  Then Jed was off, bounding across the field toward the witches, his large paws beating against the ground with each leap.

  The other wolves appeared like a herd of Wargs from some Lord of the Rings movie, bursting onto the field from out of the darkness behind us. They were grey and black and gold and brown, like a torrent of precious metals. They steered around Lockwood’s barrier and charged straight at the witches.

  The first few wolves were almost upon the witches before they could turn their spells from us to the new threat. Almost. But it didn’t take them long before they were turning their spells onto the werewolves, and I watched in horror as a purple blast struck a wolf and it flew nose over tail and came to a rest, utterly still.

  “No…” I said. “Wait, no—”

  No one was supposed to die for me. That wasn’t part of the deal. The witches were ruthless, clearly, but they only wanted me, not the wolves.

  I hadn't considered them killing anyone who stood in their way.

  But I should have. Draven certainly would.

  All my dreams of a bloodless battle that ended in our resounding victory and the sorcerers’ utter destruction seemed to evaporate with that first hit. But the battle didn't stop there by any means, and the spells continued to fly and the mewling of wounded dogs filled the air with heartbreaking swiftness.

  Swirls of green filled the air above the witches, and I winced as one of them released a shockwave of magic, pushing it outward from all around her like a Jedi Force push. The shock of the spell sent the werewolves, who had been trying to surround her, flying backward. They came down in a hard rain, slamming against the ground some thirty feet away.

  Iona was suddenly in the fray, too. She was clambering over werewolves, trying to get close. She moved with blurry speed, but the witches seemed to anticipate her. Spells were flying in her direction and she was diving, rolling. It kept her off balance, didn’t give her a chance to strike.

  How could two witches defend themselves so easily against so many oncoming attacks? They were cackling as they did it, too. The werewolves were howling in pain, a sound like the most frightening nightmare of an animal shelter I could have ever imagined.

  A body flew through the air wearing Amish clothes. It landed in a roll and remained motionless as it came to a rest. Flashes of gold and white lit up the predawn hours like fireworks over the fairgrounds.

  I couldn't stand this another moment, watching this battle unfold while I was on the sideline
s. People were dying around me, dying—

  For me. They were dying for me.

  I started forward, reaching for a stake in my hair, unsure what I would even do with it against the witches. But I had to do something. I had to—

  A firm hand on my shoulder stopped me before I even got moving. When I looked back, I saw Lockwood staring down at me, face pale and glistening with sweat. “I know your heart yearns to get involved, but please, Cassandra... Think. This is not a fight you can engage in on equal footing.”

  “But I can’t just stand here,” I said. “People are dying because of me.”

  “There will come a time to fight,” he said. “This is not it. You are defenseless against these foes, and they clamor for nothing but your blood. Should they get it, Mill will most certainly die.” His bright green eyes, so rimmed with concern, riveted me in place. “I know this is difficult to endure. But if you value his life, you must stay the course and allow the werewolves to follow their own heart's calling.”

  He knew exactly what I needed to hear to keep my feet rooted to the spot. But that didn’t mean I liked it. I would have rather been in the fight than standing here away from it, watching as werewolves were getting their asses handed to them.

  And watching as another one changed back to human, head lolling, eyes slack and staring at the sky...

  That was hardest of all.

  “Lockwood, we aren’t going to win this,” I said, snugging my backpack strap tighter against my right shoulder. The contents moved again after I'd stopped, making me feel like there was something alive in there even though there wasn't.

  The werewolves were swarming, fighting back against the occasional burst of magic that seemed to bat them away every time they'd get close. I saw one get struck, then drag himself back up. A few seconds later, he launched back at the witches again. Another got a good bite in, causing one of the witches to howl and shoot a spell that blasted out from her body a few feet, knocking the wolf clear. It blazed bright and yellow, and shot skyward like a spotlight. The wolf rolled and came back to his feet, snarling, teeth bloody.

  Man, these guys hated witches.

  Iona screamed in triumph as she grabbed one of the witches, and I saw a spurt of blood geyser, pale blond hair flashing behind a shadowed form. Growls followed as wolves poured onto the witch and Iona staggered back, lips bloody as a tide of angry Amish werewolves dragged one of our enemies to the ground.

  My heart soared with hope.

  One down.

  I grimaced. That was a human being, and I was pleased for her death. This was not an improvement over my days of being a horrible compulsive liar.

  The pack of wolves turned from the now limp body of one of the witches and darted toward the other, a flood of furred pups growling and yapping as they turned on her. She was staggering back, spells glowing from her weapon, panic rising on her face even beneath her black sunglasses.

  “Wait,” I shouted, and before Lockwood could stop me, I darted off toward the last standing witch. “Wait, don’t kill her, we need her alive—Iona!”

  I saw a flicker of pale blonde hair behind the writhing ocean of fur that was the enraged werewolf pack. They seemed to take no notice of me as I pushed my way through the wolves, making little headway against the massive creatures.

  From where I stood in the middle of the raging wolves, I saw Iona standing over the witch, her hands knotted in the witch's filthy, stringy hair, yanking it backwards to exposing her neck. A dozen wolves bayed in front of her, each seeming to vie for the privilege of leaping to tear out her throat.

  Iona’s steady hand rested a silver blade against the witch’s throat. “Tell me how to break it,” she said, her bright eyes flaming with anger. She brought a large canine down on the witch's neck, poking the woman as if for emphasis.

  The witch laughed, her dark sunglasses askew. Blood ran out of the corner of her mouth.

  “You’ve lost, little one,” she said in her thick German accent, turning her to me. “Do what you will to me. The spell will not break unless the one who commanded it is killed.” She laughed again. “You have no hope. Not against him.” Blood dripped down her chin, red and fresh.

  Iona just stared at her for a moment, then pulled the blade back from the witch's throat, throwing a glance my way. “You hear that?” I nodded. “You believe her?”

  I nodded again.

  “Me too,” Iona said, “but just in case, you heard her. Do what you will.”

  And she shoved the witch to the wolves.

  It was a feeding frenzy turned loose as the witch disappeared under the wall of fur that had been positioned in front of her. The ones around me seemed to go nuts with the sudden action at the front, too, and I almost got knocked over by the grey-haired wolf nearest me.

  Blood splattered through the air like a summer rain, and I tried not to vomit on the ground right there.

  “Cassandra!” Lockwood's voice lacked calm, cracking through the early morning fairground and over the snarling, feeding wolves.

  I turned in time to see another cyclone of glowing green forming a dozen paces away.

  The sound of squealing tires and roaring engines overwhelmed the crackling magic and furious wolves as five or six cars skidded to a halt a hundred feet away. There were no headlights blazing into the darkness; they'd come with them off, able to see through the darkness as though they lived in it all the time.

  Because they did.

  Vampires.

  Doors opened, thrown wide by the strength of their occupants. They showed their speed as they appeared as if by magic, just behind the wizard as his spell evaporated and he waited at the head of them, watching my little army as they unfolded their own into a battle line.

  And there... At the head, sneaking out from behind a vampire in a suit, shorter than any of the rest and wearing a dress that would have been radically out of place on her until so very recently...

  Was Jacquelyn.

  Chapter 20

  A wizard. A horde of bad vampires. My former best friend, now a vampire.

  A Paladin of Faerie. One good vampire. A pack of Amish werewolves.

  Oh, and one reformed liar turned vampire slayer.

  The Florida State Fairgrounds.

  How the hell did I end up here? Other than by driving, which was the obvious and literal answer.

  Right. Lies. Lots of lies that destroyed my old life, drove me out of New York, and pushed me into the path of a stalker, the meteor that caused my innocence to go extinct and finally annihilated any hope that I could have anything resembling a normal life.

  “So,” I said, calling out to Jacquelyn in the distance between her army and my pack of wolves, “I've expanded into the pet care business since last we met. Felt like I needed a new hobby, sorta like how you've embraced arson and bloodsucking as a career path. I don't want to say I was spurred by jealousy, but... You know how competitive I get.”

  Jacquelyn gave me a pitying look. “It was always like this with you. You could never let me have a moment in the sun.”

  “You can have all the time in the sun you want now. I have no problem with that.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Interesting choice of words, though.”

  “You know what I meant,” she said, souring quickly.

  The wolves howled around me but made no moves to attack the vamps. We'd known this was a possibility, but I wasn't sure they wanted to cross Draven since they had some sort of peace. We seemed to be at a standoff, which was... Interesting.

  “I think so?” I pretended to wonder. “But if you wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, I'm happy to serve that moment in the sun up for you.” I looked to the horizon. It was lightening even still, purple filling the eastern sky.

  “Sorry, Cassie,” she said, not remotely apologetic. “But you don't have minutes.” And she jerked her hand, pointing at me.

  “Crap,” I said as the wizard let loose a blast and the vampires broke into a charge.

  “Cassandra,” Lockwood said
, pushing me down as a spell blast passed through where my head had been a moment earlier. “We need to move. The wolves will not break the peace, and they will not be able to protect you against—”

  “An army of bloodthirsty vampires?” I asked, and broke into a run, backpack sloshing against my back. I slung it under my arm as I went, opening the top zipper. Water balloons moved around inside. It looked like most of them had survived my bouncing around inside the werewolf scrum. “What about the wizard?” I threw a balloon over my shoulder at the nearest vamp blurring toward me and watched him veer out of the way. It hit a vampire behind him and the scream was bloodcurdling. I saw blood and pale skin wash away like the end scene of that really old movie where they opened the Ark of the Covenant and faces melted off.

  “Let's worry about your safety first,” Lockwood said.

  “What do you think I'm worrying about?” I asked, sprinting, tossing another balloon over my shoulder. It landed in a thick knot of vamps, splashing five of them. Two fell down, screaming as they nursed wounds. The other three seemed to slow, smoke rising where the holy water had hit them. “World peace?”

  “That seems a little out of the question at the moment,” Iona said, appearing at my elbow and yanking me along. “I mean, even if you solved the Middle East issue, I think these vampires are still going to want to murder you.”

  “I'm more worried about the wizard,” I said, and chucked another holy water bomb into the path of the fastest moving vamp after a quick feint. “We can’t let him leave this place alive.”

  As soon as I realized which way the vampire frontrunner was going to dodge, and he'd committed to it, I adjusted my aim and landed it right in front of him. It caught him squarely in the groin, and I cringed. “Oof. Looks like somebody peed his pants.” The vampire collapsed screaming, his shirt turning black as his guts seeped out underneath his clothing.

  “We need to get you out of here,” Lockwood said. “They will stop at nothing to get you.”

  “Well, I don't really want to be gotten,” I said, looking for Jacquelyn. She was pretty far behind, letting the brave idiots charge after the girl with the holy water balloons. I readied my next shot, my hand wet from so many repetitive throws.

 

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