by Megan Morgan
Abernathy looked at the bowl, upper lip curled. “Not good enough.”
Lorena stared at him. “What?”
“Bring me the potion, ready for use, and I will stop this.”
“Stop what?” Lorena asked, almost in a whisper.
Abernathy lifted his massive arms. “Kill them all.”
* * * *
Wolvites were dumb as hell, and that just might be the thing that got them out of this. Too dumb to use the weapons they’d taken. Too dumb to frisk them.
Deacon whipped his pistol out of his belt as the one who had snatched his rifle charged him. It had its jaws open, teeth extending into fangs as it transformed. He shot it between the eyes before it made it ten paces.
Deacon had his rifle back in his hands before any of the others could come at him.
Chaos ensued. The witches ran. Most of the Wolvites changed into beasts, so Deacon didn’t have a clue who was friend or foe. He’d just shoot whatever posed a threat.
Mel scrambled up and took off toward the shed they’d brought her out of.
Lorena had pulled her gun from her waistband as well. “I’m not letting her get away!” She chased after Mel.
Deacon would have followed, but a Wolvite came at him and he shot it down.
The Wolvite who took Jack’s gun actually tried to use it, and fired off a shot that didn’t even come close to hitting anything. Jack jumped on the creature, a bowie knife in hand, and rammed the blade into its chest. Deacon had a knife too, in his boot.
The one that had Zeke’s gun took off, but Zeke held Grammy bridal style in his arms and he couldn’t fight anyway. She clung to his neck and shrieked like a banshee.
Most of the Wolvites tangled with each other, slashing at each other’s throats. The coppery stink of blood filled the air. Abernathy stood over it all, and he looked to be enjoying the state of things. Deacon wanted to put a bullet in him. Every time he tried to aim though, a Wolvite came tearing at him. He shot them down, one after another.
The Wolvites finally seemed to realize fighting Lycans with guns wouldn’t get them nowhere. They took off into the trees. Abernathy ran as well. Deacon wasn’t able to get a clear shot at his back.
“We have to get out of here!” Jack said. “Let them tear each other apart.”
“I gotta get Lorena.” Deacon lowered his rifle. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
He ran toward the shed. The camp was cleared now except for two Wolvites in human form who took up torches from the fire in the center. Deacon knew immediately what they aimed to do. They all had to get the hell out of there before things started to burn.
He ducked inside the shed and the god-awful reek of Wolvite made him reel. Had to be Dafydd. He’d been smelling that exact same stink since yesterday.
He found Lorena and Mel right quick.
Lorena had Mel face down on the floor. She sat on her back, with Mel’s hair twisted up in her fist. Mel squirmed and clawed at the dirt, screaming.
“They’re gonna burn this place down,” Deacon said. “We have to get out of here.”
“They’ll catch us if we run.” Lorena stumbled to her feet and dragged Mel up with her. Mel shrieked and clutched at her head.
“They don’t care about us no more,” Deacon said. “They know we’re stronger, they’re just focused on each other. We can get away.”
“They’re saving us for last. You really think Abernathy is going to let us out of here alive?”
Lorena handed him something. The little bowl she’d offered Abernathy. “Take this.” She was still struggling with Mel.
Mel wailed as Lorena bent her over and placed her pistol to the back of her head.
“If you keep fighting me, I’m going to untie Dafydd and barricade you in here with him. If you cooperate, he may live. You might too.” She let go of her hair.
If it weren’t a plumb inappropriate time for it, Deacon might have been turned on.
Mel went limp. Lorena shoved the gun in her waistband and grabbed an old metal lantern off the wall. She dragged Mel outside, by the arm this time. Deacon followed with the bowl.
The acrid scent of smoke filled the air. Several sheds across the way were now on fire, and witches fled into the trees. Wolvite bodies were strewn everywhere. A few still twitched.
“Dafydd!” Mel pulled at Lorena’s grip. “I can’t leave him here, the camp is on fire!”
“We’ll come back for him,” Lorena said. “This shack is far enough away from the others it won’t catch just yet. We can’t carry him right now.”
“We have to go.” Deacon directed them toward where Jack and Zeke waited. “The Wolvites are gonna come back.”
Deacon led them to the others. Jack was nearly vibrating. “Come on!” He jerked his rifle toward the trees. “We gotta find our way back.”
Grammy had her face pressed into Zeke’s shoulder. She was crying.
“Give me your lighter, Deacon,” Lorena said. “Take her.” She pushed Mel at him.
Deacon slipped his Zippo out of his back pocket. He didn’t smoke, never had, but a lighter in the woods was a useful tool. He handed it to her and she handed Mel off to him. He gripped her arm. Her skin was cold and she trembled.
“You see what Abernathy is!” Mel shrieked. “He’s a monster. Do you see why I disobeyed him?”
Deacon tightened his grip on her. “It’s one thing to disobey him, it’s another to use us to do it.” He glared down at her. “We’re the ones who have to pay for you kicking up a fuss.”
Lorena lit the wick inside the lantern. The flame blazed up and cast a yellow light through the dingy glass. Deacon swore the flame wasn’t normal, that there was something off about it.
“We have to get out of here,” Jack said again. “It’s getting quiet, you hear that? They’re gonna come back.”
The sheds were ablaze now. The fire was spreading fast, too. Mel stared anxiously toward it.
“We won’t get out.” Lorena’s voice was calm. “That’s Abernathy’s plan. Destroy these people, then take care of us. We’re next, and there’s no way you’ll shoot all of them down.”
“Then we have to go!” Jack hollered.
Lorena held the lantern aloft and faced the trees. “Go, if you want. You won’t get far. Abernathy wants to rid himself of the weak Wolvites and the Lycans at the same time.”
“Then what are we gonna do?” Zeke’s voice shook.
Lorena looked at Deacon. The light shone in her eyes. Her face was hard.
“I have to finish the cure.” She grabbed Mel and took her back. “He said he would stop this if I did.”
Deacon gazed back at her. “You believe him?”
“I have to. It’s the only chance we have.”
With that, she headed into the trees, pulling Mel along with her. The lantern pushed back the darkness ahead of her.
Deacon hesitated, then followed them. He had no choice. He’d follow her to salvation, or death, or wherever she led him.
“Where are we going?” Jack scrambled after him. “We should at least try to hide.” Zeke loped behind him.
Deacon didn’t know the answer. They plunged into the woods.
Chapter 21
Deacon and the others followed Lorena on a narrow path, one she seemed to know, or else she was navigating by her powers. The lantern cast yellow light across the leaves and created quivering shadows in the treetops. It seemed to get brighter as they walked. It was a witch light, and it gave Deacon a shiver.
Deacon urged Zeke up in front of him. If something attacked them, he didn’t want Zeke in the rear, unable to defend himself. Grammy had gone limp in his arms. The night was still and windless around them. That silence was worse than the sound of approaching Wolvites.
“You nasty succubus,” Jack said lowly, and Deacon realized he was addressing Mel. “I’m gonna put a bullet in your head before this is over. I’m gonna lay your guts out with all your friends.”
Mel looked over her shoulder, stumbling a
long behind Lorena.
Lorena appeared ethereal, nearly floating, the light brighter yet, so bright it didn’t seem like nighttime anymore. Deep in Deacon’s chest, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride and awe. He trusted her. He loved her. He’d be the gun at her back as long as she’d have him.
“Your mate is gonna die,” Jack kept ranting. “He’s gonna burn up back there, and I’m gonna throw you on top of his charred bones.”
“Shut up,” Mel snarled. “Filthy Lycan!”
“Shh,” Lorena hissed. “Don’t make it easier for them to track us.”
The trees thinned. The path widened. They came out into a clearing.
The clearing was ringed with trees, except on one side, where a rock wall rose from the forest floor. At the base was a small pool. Lorena headed toward it, her lantern in front of her. They followed.
“I have to try to finish the cure here,” Lorena said.
Deacon looked at the small earthenware bowl in his hand. He’d never dreamed he’d be helping Wolvites like this.
Lorena shoved Mel down on her knees next to the pool. Mel slumped over, her hair around her face. Deacon couldn’t see any of his sister in her now. All he could see was his burnt house and the fire licking up the sides of the sheds back there. Death and destruction, everywhere, and she was to blame.
Lorena turned to them, her face bathed in the glow of the lantern. “They’re coming.” She looked at Deacon, and her expression was still as bold and hard as the mountain, no fear in her eyes. “Try to keep them back until I can figure this out.”
Deacon’s skin crawled. He didn’t like being the prey, the hunted. Maybe that was how they always felt, and maybe he should be sorry for it, but right now, he couldn’t manage it.
He tried to borrow some of Lorena’s courage and remain stoic. “Do what you gotta do, we’ll hold them off.”
Zeke carried Grammy to the pool and set her down on the grass next to it. Jack readied his rifle and handed Zeke his pistol, since his rifle was long gone. Deacon pulled Lorena to him and kissed her hard, and let it linger for a moment before drawing back.
“If we survive this…” he said.
“We’re going to survive this.” She took the bowl from him.
Deacon, Jack, and Zeke spread out around the clearing, guns aimed into the trees. Already, Deacon caught their scent, nasty and stomach-churning. His heart pounded in his ears. A rustling started up in the distance. Could be anything, maybe an animal, but it was probably them.
“Look alive, boys.” Deacon’s voice carried on the quiet. “We’ve shot these bastards down before.”
“They ain’t never had us at a disadvantage like this.” Zeke’s voice still wavered. “Hope we got enough ammo.”
Lorena knelt by the water, next to Mel. Grammy sat with her hands clasped to her chest.
Deacon caught a stronger whiff of Wolvite—and the scent of blood—a moment before the rustling got louder and closer. He swung to his right, gun lifted. Something black and hairy burst from the trees, moving too fast for him to get a clean aim. He fired anyway.
* * * *
Lorena flinched at the gunshot. She whipped around and a scream caught in her throat. A Wolvite, huge and black with golden eyes, charged at her. The shot, whoever had fired it, missed.
A second before she wrenched her arm around to pull her gun from her waistband, the creature transformed into a man.
“Don’t shoot!” Lorena flung her hand out instead. “It’s Kendrick!”
Kendrick stood over her, chest heaving, hair wet and limp around his face. Bright red stood out in the lantern light. His arms were slick with blood to his elbows. It dripped from his chin. His teeth were stained with it. Despite his frightful form, his eyes shone with anguish.
“What happened?” Lorena stood.
Above the trees, the sky glowed orange. Hopefully, the fire hadn’t gotten to Neala’s shack yet. They couldn’t carry Dafydd here, it would have slowed them down.
“They have killed many of the wounded ones.” Kendrick’s voice was low and pained. “We managed to take some of them, but not enough.” He held up his bloody hands and stared at them. “Not enough. I do not know where Abernathy’s Wolvites are now.”
“They’re regrouping.” Lorena gripped his arm. His bicep was so big she couldn’t close her fingers around it. “I have to try to complete the cure. It’s the only hope we have of bargaining with him.”
Neala grabbed Lorena’s leg. “We have to save Dafydd!” She stared up at Lorena, eyes wild. “The fire!”
Lorena shook her off. “Kendrick, I need you to bring Dafydd here.”
Kendrick snarled. “Why should we help her, or her mate?”
“I need you to bring him here so I can cure him in front of Abernathy. It’s not for her, it’s for us.”
“Better get this moving!” Deacon shouted across the clearing. “I can smell ‘em, they’re coming!”
Lorena looked desperately at Kendrick. “Performing a miracle is the only way I can get Abernathy to stop. I couldn’t bring Dafydd here myself.”
Kendrick gnashed his teeth. She feared he wouldn’t do it, and she wouldn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure it mattered anyway, if she ended up being unable to perform said miracle. She gazed at him, breath held. He glared back at her, the pain radiating off him almost too much for her to bear. Her heart ached for him, for all of them.
He blinked back into a shaggy monster and dashed off into the trees, in the direction of the camp.
“Thank you,” Neala whispered. “Thank you, thank you…”
“I’m not doing this for you.” Lorena knelt next to the pool. “Abernathy wants to rip my head off too.”
This was the dream. The lantern. The pool. The Wolvite charging out of the woods, though it had never been Dafydd. It was all prophecy.
Lorena dipped her fingers in the water. Ripples spread across the surface. She looked at Neala.
“Are you a White Witch?” Lorena already knew the answer.
Neala shook her head. “No.”
“You’re not?”
“No, I don’t know any White Witches.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. Don’t you think I would have volunteered to make the cure when you said that’s what you needed?”
Lorena pulled her hand from the water. Apparently, she didn’t know the answer. But, she knew science.
She rubbed her wet hand on her jeans and struggled to recall her studies. “A witch’s abilities are not restricted, no matter how much witches like to think they’re divided into neat categories.” She was thinking out loud. “There’s no actual classification system, just social constructs. Witches can do many things, and they acquire new abilities with practice. Tell me what a White Witch is supposed to be able to do that others can’t? I have a feeling it’s not an inherent ability, but one acquired through growth of power.”
In the distance came a growl. A frisson of fear ran down Lorena’s spine. She could feel them, a malevolence in the night, getting closer. Their power flowed over her skin like a warm, sickly wind. Deacon and his cousins formed a protective circle around them.
Hazel whimpered. “God save us.”
“You could try saving us instead,” Lorena snapped at her. “Tell me about White Witches!”
Hazel gazed at her, the light from the lantern blanking out the lenses of her glasses. “They can communicate with all that comes from the Earth, I told you that. They speak to nature.”
“What do you mean, speak to nature?”
A howl tore through the air, high and warning. The boys leveled their guns.
“She—” Hazel choked out. “She talks to the plants and the trees. She knows their secrets.”
Lorena furrowed her brow. She thought of the tiny white flowers Deacon had plucked for her, their petals unfurling and shivering at her touch. She thought of the flowers arching toward her in the garden, the feel of dirt between her fingers, the way the ground seemed to s
ing.
“Talk to them how?” Lorena asked. “With words?”
“It’s a voice inside you,” Neala said. “Like all witchery. Something you feel in your bones.”
“How do you use it?” Lorena looked at the water.
“It’s intuitive,” Hazel said. “It doesn’t matter right now, we’re doomed. We don’t have a White Witch here to cast the spell.”
Lorena held up a hand for silence. More howls, all around them now. Doom crashing through the trees.
“Lorena…” Deacon said, fear in his voice for the first time.
“What’s the spell to activate the water again?” Lorena asked.
“It’s…” Neala hesitated. “I think it’s—”
“Aquae sanitas,” Hazel spoke bitterly. “They made me try it over and over, even though I told them I couldn’t do it, idiot women.”
Lorena leaned over to the pool. Her eyes stared back at her from the still surface. She dipped her hand into the water, to her wrist. Ripples warped her reflection.
“Aquae sanitas.”
The water shuddered, as though a stone had been tossed into it. A silver glow flashed across the surface. The water seemed to wrap around Lorena’s wrist like a silken snake. She felt the change, the shift of molecules. The power of the water—the essence of it, the soul—shot up her arm and warmed her body, its vitality living and magical and other.
Neala gasped. “You’re a White Witch!”
Lorena didn’t believe the explanation was so dramatic. She lifted her hand and droplets clung to her fingers. “No, I just think I’ve become over-practiced in this area.”
Hazel gaped at her. Lorena would have been smug if the situation weren’t so dire. She looked around and spotted the bowl in the grass.
Something burst out of the trees then, and Deacon aimed at it. Kendrick, in human form. He dragged something behind him. Neala leapt to her feet.
He had Dafydd, still bound to his stretcher. The other Wolvite wasn’t moving and looked like he might already be dead. Kendrick deposited him roughly by the pool. Neala rushed to the stretcher and collapsed at Dafydd’s side.
