Hex on the Beach

by Melissa Marr

  I flew back to where I had left Denise, drank the last of Ashael’s blood from the mostly empty second bag, and flew us back to the falls. Time to crash their party.

  The witches were setting up a bonfire made of branches and the terrain’s many loose rocks. No one had removed their hoods yet, so I couldn’t spot Morgana’s lustrous, dark umber hair.

  Come on, Morgana. Where are you?

  “Look!” one of them suddenly said while pointing up.

  Dammit. We’d been spotted.

  “Brace!” I told Denise as every hooded head looked up.

  I dove us toward the tightest cluster of witches. We’d scatter them before landing near the bonfire—Aw, shit!

  I crashed into the bonfire. Fire, wood, and stone burst out in every direction as we tumbled along the top of the cliff. Thankfully, a group of witches stopped our momentum, providing a much softer landing than the ground as we plowed into them.

  I leapt up with as much bravado as I could muster after that epic fail of a landing.

  “Give me Morgana, or I am going to fuck all of you!”

  Denise shot an amazed look my way. That’s when I realized I’d forgotten a very important word.

  “Up,” I stressed. “Give me Morgana, or I am going to fuck all of you up.”

  “Your first offer was better,” an amused voice noted.

  I knew that voice. Morgana.

  I turned and flung several of my silver throwing knives toward the source of her voice. Take that, witchzilla!

  The knives turned to liquid in midair before splashing to the ground near her feet. Worse, I suddenly felt a burning wetness, and looked down to see silver rivulets running from my now empty weapon sheaths on my arms, thighs, and ankles.

  I stared at the shiny splotches in disbelief. Please let me be hallucinating from Ashael’s blood. Please don’t let the bitch have just melted all my weapons!

  Morgana smiled. “How do you like my new spell?”

  Oh, I’d be very impressed, if I wasn’t the one covered in useless, melted silver. “Creative,” I managed to say.

  Morgana’s smile turned smug. “I had a feeling you’d find a way out of the immobility spell, so I had that ready in case you showed up tonight.”

  “Cat…” Denise drew my name out in a concerned way.

  I glanced over at her. Yep, Denise now had melted shiny streaks where all her silver weapons had been, too. Ashael had said his blood would shield us from any new spells they lobbed our way, but that protection obviously didn’t extend to inanimate objects like our knives.

  “It’s fine,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “Who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned brawl?”

  “Alas, I must decline,” Morgana replied in a light tone. “We have our goddess’ arrival to prepare for.”

  A high-pitched scream sounded behind me. I turned, seeing a brown-haired boy struggling between several witches. Freckles or pimples dotted his face, and his frame had that awkward, bones-too-big-for-his-skin look that some teens had. When his eyes met mine, horror, shock, and fear practically spilled from his gaze and his thoughts were a jumble of pleas and shrieks.

  Firecrackers of rage went off inside me. “Another kid? What the fuck is wrong with you? If the goddess you worship must have a living sacrifice, chose a murderer or a pedophile like a normal person!”

  “That’s what I said,” one of the nearby witches muttered, garnering her an instant censoring look from Morgana.

  “We hold to the old ways of offering a pure sacrifice—”

  My loud scoff cut her off. “First of all, you’re evil. Second, purity is a spiritual state, not a sexual one, and third, wow are you dating yourself as an old, out-of-touch vampire if you think ‘teenager’ automatically means ‘virgin.’”

  “I’m done speaking with you,” Morgana said, and picked up one of the sticks from the now-destroyed bonfire. Then, she poked it at a splotch of melted silver near her feet.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I spat and marched toward her, throwing aside the witches who tried to stand in my way.

  Morgana didn’t move. Instead, she threw the stick at me.

  I didn’t even duck. What was this, kindergarten?

  The stick changed into a large snake that hit me right in the mouth. I flung it off, yelping in a very un-badass way, but I hated snakes, and now I’d just gotten to first base with one.

  “Really?” I snapped when dozens of other branches suddenly morphed into serpentine life. Now, I had a field of snakes between me and Morgana. Gross, but did she actually think this would stop me from reaching her—

  Ouch! One of the snakes bit me, and wow, it hurt. A lot.

  I yanked the snake off, not caring that I ripped my flesh in the process. Its fangs were still oozing venom, only it wasn’t normal-looking venom. It was shiny and metallic.

  “Silver,” I breathed out.

  A single touch confirmed it. Only silver stung that much. All vampires were allergic to it, even freaky former half-breeds like me. Worse, liquid silver couldn’t be removed with the same ease as yanking out a weapon, and until the silver was removed, I’d be weaker and I wouldn’t heal as fast.

  I hurled the snake aside. “Magic snakes? You need therapy!”

  Morgana only tossed her hair. “And you need to sit quietly until our goddess comes to claim you, but I’m guessing neither of us is going to do what’s in our best interest, are we?”

  Denise grabbed my arm. “You okay?”

  The bite in my calf burned like hell, but I’d be all right. I just needed to keep from getting bitten again.

  “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Hold the other witches back while I kill her, will you?”

  Denise dropped my arm and backed away a few feet.

  “With pleasure.”

  I rose into the air, a little more wobbly than usual, but at least the snakes couldn’t bite me up here.

  “You’re dead,” I said to Morgana, and flew at her.

  She shot upward right before I reached her, leaving me to plow into the spot where she’d stood. After I spat out a face full of dirt, I saw her flying in a graceful circle above me.

  “I don’t think so,” she said in a pleasant tone.

  Bitch could fly. She was also creative, powerful, and beautiful. If I weren’t straight, married, and repulsed by child murderers, I might have developed a crush.

  “Fellow coven sisters.” Morgana raised her voice. “Teach this impudent vampire to show me the proper respect!”

  The witches grabbed the magic snakes and hurled them at me. I flew up, avoiding most of them, but at least two sets of fangs sank home. That deadly silver venom scalded me from the inside out. I tumbled out of the sky, hitting the rapidly disappearing beach hard enough to scatter sand in every direction.

  I staggered to my feet, cursing when I tried to fly and couldn’t. Fucking liquid silver was weakening me by the moment, and only massive cutting could remove it. I’d do it, too, if I had any weapons, but thanks to Morgana, I didn’t.

  Screw it. I’d fight without flying and weapons, then.

  “I warned you, motherfuckers!” I heard Denise yell.

  Poor Denise, stuck up there with dozens of murderous witches and God-knew-how-many magically venomous snakes. I had to get to her. Right now.

  I started climbing up the cliff wall. Jagged rocks sliced up my hands, making my grip slippery from blood. I didn’t care. All that mattered was killing Morgana.

  The cliff suddenly shuddered while large rocks struck my head and bashed into my body. The heavy barrage made me lose my grip. I stopped my fall by shoving my hand into a crevice hard enough to shatter bones. Pain screamed through me, but now I was anchored to the cliff wall, and I ducked beneath the next onslaught of rocks.

  What was this? An earthquake? We were in California; it was possible. Or was this more of the witch’s tricks?

  My bet was on the witch. “Is that all you’ve got, Morgana?” I shouted. “If so, I’m still coming for
you!”

  No answer except screaming. Hmm. That didn’t sound like Denise. Instead, it sounded like several of the witches.

  Another blast of rocks pelted me, and the cliff wall next to me crumpled before sliding off onto the beach. Shit, maybe this was an earthquake. I crab-crawled away from the growing hole, avoiding the worst of the landslide. Then, I raced toward the top as fast as I could. Two minutes later, I heaved myself over the still shuddering ledge…and stared.

  I’m hallucinating. Wow. Ashael’s blood is good shit.

  A grayish-green dragon stomped after a group of witches. Every step from the massive beast made the ground tremble, and its thick, whiplike tail swept aside the snakes that tried to swarm it. When one of the witches got too close to its flank, a huge wing snapped out and flattened her.

  Another witch grabbed a snake and hurled it at the dragon. The viper latched onto the dragon’s neck while thin, shiny drops rolled down its thick scales as the snake tried to pump its magically derived venom into the beast.

  The dragon’s roar blasted the hair back from the nearby witches. Then, its head snapped out with surprising speed. For a second, all I saw was the bottom halves of the witches’ blue robes because the dragon’s thick head blocked the rest of them. Then, the dragon reared back up, clenching several big, blue, bloody forms between its teeth.

  That’s when I realized I wasn’t hallucinating.

  Back away from her, or I swear I will turn into a dragon and eat every last fucking one of you! Denise had said two days ago. Morgana and the others had laughed, but no one was laughing now.

  Except me.

  “Ha ha ha ha! Oh, it’s on now, bitches!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Morgana tried to fly away. Denise swatted her back to the ground with one of those massive wings. Morgana rolled around, momentarily dazed, and I seized my chance.

  I jumped on her. She tried to scramble away, but I climbed up her body with the same urgency I’d used to scale the cliff.

  “I take it back,” I said when I had crawled near her ear. “You don’t need therapy. You need killing.”

  Morgana started screaming in that unfamiliar language. Instantly, it felt like dozens of invisible nails scratched me. Nothing else happened, though, and from Morgana’s shocked expression, something more should have.

  I laughed. “Nice try, but I’ve got friends in low, low places, so I’m temporarily immune to your spells.”

  She glared at me. “You will die screaming—”

  My arm across her throat cut her off. I folded my other one over it, locking her neck in place between them. Then, I wrapped my legs around her torso and began pulling.

  Her eyes widened, first in rage, and then in horrified understanding. She flung herself backward, knocking us against the ground hard enough to elicit an oof! from me, but I didn’t let go. I kept tightening my grip and pulling harder.

  “Morgana!” one of the witches screamed, seeing her leader’s predicament. She ran toward her, only to be snatched up before she was halfway there. Several crunching sounds later, there was nothing left of the witch except the parts that Denise spat out.

  Morgana’s elbows slammed into my sides. Pain exploded as my ribs shattered. Every new movement caused ragged bits of bone to stab me, and I wasn’t healing. I was too full of silver.

  My arm slipped a bit from her neck. Morgana took advantage, rolling us across the ground while ramming her elbows into me again. Soon, I was vomiting blood between gasping screams, yet I didn’t let go. I let her bash me while I readjusted my grip on her neck and kept my legs around her torso.

  It’s only pain. Keep pulling! Harder, harder, harder!

  Morgana’s head came off with a pop that sent me sprawling backward. Then I sat there, so dazed from agony that it took a few moments before I chucked her head aside. It rolled to a stop near her body, which was now shriveling into the state of true death for vampires. Soon, Morgana looked like a weird headless scarecrow that someone had dressed up in a bloody blue robe.

  I lay back, relief briefly buffering my pain. It was over. Morgana was dead.

  A roar made me sit up despite how much that hurt. Denise had chased a group of witches over to the cliff’s edge. They had a steep drop behind them and a pissed-off dragon in front of them. They might have deserved either death, but I was eager to get the silver out of me so I could start healing, and I’d need Denise in her regular form for that.

  “Enough,” I called out. “Morgana’s dead, so you can stop. Not you, witches,” I added when they froze as if obeying a sternly worded command. “Denise, you can stop.”

  She did stop advancing on them, but the witches didn’t move. Huh. Maybe they were literally scared stiff…or not.

  I sat up more fully and looked around.

  Now none of the witches were moving, even the ones that had been running down the path away from the edge of the cliff.

  “The spell,” I groaned.

  As promised, it had infected everyone in our immediate vicinity. How ironic that the witches had gotten trapped in a hex of their own making. Still, that hex was supposed to end with Morgana’s death, and the witches were freezing up now, after Morgana was dead.

  Only one reason I could think of, and it was the worst possible scenario. Morgana’s death hadn’t ended the curse.

  “She comes!” one of the witches suddenly screamed.

  I thought she meant Denise, but she was still in her imposing stance in front of the cliff. The witches perched at the cliff’s edge tried to turn around toward the sea and couldn’t. They did manage to crane their necks a little though, so I stood up and followed the direction of their gaze.

  The sea boiled. That’s the only way I could describe the froth of white that poured from the tops of the waves. Then those white tips began to spin in a circle, forming a maelstrom that slowly approached the thin strip of remaining beach.

  High tide was here. The sea goddess was coming, and Denise and I were still magically marked as her sacrifices. But we weren’t the only ones. Not anymore.

  “New plan!” I yelled, striding toward the witches even though every movement caused fresh spurts of agony. “Any witch that can still move better conjure something up to break Morgana’s spell, or we’re all about to be sea goddess chum.”

  “Blas…phemy,” the witch nearest to me hissed.

  Her broken speech concerned me more than her refusal. It meant the immobility spell had almost completed its work. The witches around her looked in equally bad shape. They must have been the closest to us since we’d arrived. They couldn’t chant out a counterspell even if they wanted to.

  I gave a frustrated look around. Someone had to be in better shape! We hadn’t been up in every witch’s face this entire time.

  I heard a thump behind me and then gasps. I turned, shocked to see that the witch who’d said “blasphemy” would now never speak again, and it wasn’t because of the spell. No, it was because her head was rolling near my feet while the rest of her body was still frozen upright.

  “Who else wants to tell my wife that they won’t help her?” a completely unexpected British voice said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I swung around. Nope, I wasn’t hallucinating this, either. Somehow, Bones was about fifty yards away from me and closing fast. Spade was behind him, moving slower because he had a canon-like object strapped to his back, multiple ammunition belts crisscrossed over his torso, and two mega-sized machine guns in his hands.

  “Darling,” Spade said as his spiky black hair blew around his pale, handsome features. “Love your new look.”

  Denise’s expression was so openly shocked that I needed to get a picture. “Ooh, who’s got a cell phone handy? A dragon making that face would be the perfect meme!”

  Bones and Spade exchanged a look.

  “She’s even drunker than we are,” Spade muttered.

  Drunker than…huh?

  Belatedly, it struck me that Spade’s normally aristocratic ton
es were now distinctly slurred, and Bones swayed a touch as he strode toward me. I also hadn’t felt them approach and they were Master vampires with auras that crackled the air around them with their power, so I should’ve felt them.

  Unless they’d both dropped out of thin air.

  “That devious demon!” I said, exasperated.

  Ashael knew that Denise and I weren’t involving our husbands while we were contagious, but had he respected our wishes? No, he’d teleported them here himself. At least it looked like he’d pumped them full of his blood first.

  Bones flashed his fangs in something too feral to be a smile. “Exactly what I said when I learned he’d known of your predicament for days, but that’s off-topic. What’s on-topic”—he raised his voice—“is that if anyone wants to leave here alive, you will remove the hex from these women now.”

  “Or I will hunt down and slaughter everyone you love after I finish murdering you in the most painful way possible,” Spade added in the coldest of tones.

  “That’s dark,” I muttered while as a chorus of witches spoke. Unfortunately, most of what they said was barely intelligible from their broken speech. My teeth ground.

  “They can’t chant away a curse in their condition even if they wanted to, and since they’re now marked as sacrifices, too, most probably do want to. But that immobility spell is hella effective. Did you-know-who leave you any extra blood?”

  “No,” Bones said before stopping mid-stride and turning to the nearest mostly frozen witch. He ripped his wrist open with a fang and held it to her lips.

  “Drink,” he said harshly.

  Her eyes widened, but with Bones willing his blood into her mouth, she had no choice except to swallow.

  Spade saw that and swung one of his guns over his shoulder. Then, he grabbed the witch nearest to him and fed her some of his demon-fortified blood, too.

  “Now, start undoing this curse,” Bones ordered.

  Both witches started to chant in clear, unbroken voices. That’s right, we could share our version of spell-buffering through our demon-altered blood. I immediately opened my wrist and held it over the mouth of the witch next to me. She swallowed twice before her eyes widened and she fell over.