“But we are different,” Tollis said. The bones in his face had stopped moving, and he didn’t seem quite as tall. “We are better.”
“We’re all just people.”
“No, we’re not.”
“And why kill us? If you want us to rise up, what are you doing out there?” I pointed in the general direction of the park, feeling a spark of anger ignite inside me. A tingling sensation ran up my arm, and I had to fight to control the beat of my heart. I didn’t want Tollis to realize something had healed inside me.
“Because you all are kowtowing to societal rule. We have to thin the herd.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped. Power pressed at my fingers, aching to be released. “You want to start a revolution, so your first order of business is to kill half the supernatural population of Brighthaven? Are you mental?”
“No.” Tollis’s voice was low and dangerous. I heard fabric tearing slowly. Tollis was taller again, his shoulders almost touching the ceiling. “My first order of business was to lure Jameson out of his hiding place.”
“What?”
“When Jameson hears about what we’ve done here, he’ll come running to save the day and his own hide. And when he finds out you’ve gone missing…” Tollis’s words hung in the air as he smiled at me. But it was an ugly effort of bearing his fangs at me.
Anger arched through me, fueling my kinetic power. I couldn’t even feel the pain in my side anymore. I balled my fists at my side, electricity snapping around my hands and pressing at my skin. It zipped back and forth through me until I could even feel it behind my eyes.
Screams in the distance, muffled by the walls of the wagon, grew louder. Tollis twitched. He wanted to turn toward the sounds, as if he could see them through the walls, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off of me.
A loud crash outside startled both of us. Tollis took half a step back toward the door before he caught himself. Howls cut through the screams, and Tollis’s lips pulled into a sneer that I think was supposed to be a smile. I shook my head, but before I could say anything, the howl was cut short. Someone barked, then whined in pain before the noise cut off abruptly, sending a chill down my back.
“I believe Mr. McKendrick has arrived.” Tollis stepped toward me, breaking something underfoot.
I pressed myself into the wall, willing it to open and let me fall through to safety, but of course, it didn’t. My body vibrated with power until I thought my skin would rip.
“I wonder just how important you are to ol’ Jameson.” Tollis reached for me, his clawed hands getting too close.
“I’m not, damnit. For the love of toads, I am not important to him!”
“We’ll see about that.”
But we didn’t. Just then, the door of the wagon was ripped from the hinges in a shattering of splinters, and the night air rushed in, whipping out the cloying perfume. Fletcher’s frame filled the door. The perfume had been so strong that Tollis hadn’t smelled him coming. My heart thudded, as if remembering how to beat again, when I saw him. I wasn’t alone.
Tollis whirled around with the sound of ripping fabric and breaking bones as the shift finally took over. His skin rippled, and fur sprouted over his body. His legs contorted under him. Fletcher roared. His face looked strange, but in the shadows and half-light I couldn’t tell what was wrong.
Fletcher lunged, grabbed Tollis, and flung him through the now-too-small door. The frame broke as Tollis went through it. Fletcher flew out behind him to land on Tollis’s back. I rushed forward in time to see Tollis fling Fletcher into another wagon. Fletcher was on his feet in an instant. I could see his face in the moonlight.
His fangs were fully extended, and his face was contorted with rage. His skin was liquid-paper white, the blue veins visible all along the sides of his face. His eyes glowed brightly, flashing between red and yellow. But the bones of his face were misshapen, making him look almost like a bat. I had to fight not to cringe away.
The vampire and Were circled each other, their glowing eyes fixed on each other as they held out their clawed hands. Tollis snapped his jaws, and I heard his teeth click together. Fletcher hissed at him. They were going to rip each other apart. I was going to lose a friend.
Power arced through me again until I saw it shining through my eyes. I crept down the steps until I was on the ground again. Neither of them had noticed me moving yet. I vibrated with power. It filled me and surrounded me, lifting my hair on a wind only I could feel. I lifted my hands, remembering my father’s careful instruction on harnessing this power. I had never felt so much power inside me before. I needed to release it, and I knew just where to direct it.
When Fletcher moved in front of me, I held my breath, waiting for him to move away again. Then Tollis was in front of me, ten feet away. He saw me.
With a wild scream, I let the power burst from me, lifting me off the ground. I hovered as the white electric bolts shot from my body and struck the werewolf. He was frozen, our bodies held by the strength of my power. I felt it draining out of me and filling him, making it past his thick protective skin until it actually hurt him. When the power left me and I was on my feet again, I was panting and Tollis was unconscious. My legs trembled, and I couldn’t hold up my arms. But I was still standing, and that was all that mattered.
Fletcher turned toward me, his face reforming until he finally looked at me with those familiar eyes and soft cheekbones I so admired. He blinked and opened his mouth, but words failed him.
“I told you,” I breathed, “I don’t need a man to save me.”
Chapter 17
When I opened my eyes again, Fletcher was bent over me. The tang of iron coated my mouth. I put a hand to his chest and pushed him out of my space. Fletcher fell back on his ass with a sound of surprise. I bolted up and looked at my hand in confusion, thinking maybe I had hit him with a shot of power or something. How else could I have knocked a vampire back so easily?
“Oh, come on, tell me you didn’t,” I said.
“Your pulse was fading.” Fletcher got to his feet, dusting off his black pants.
I got to my feet as well, my fists balled at my side. “For the love of frogs, Fletcher!”
“Was I supposed to just let you die?”
“I wouldn’t have died.”
“Between the two of us, I think I know a little more about death. You were dying.”
I scrubbed my mouth with the back of my hand, and it came away with a smear of red against my pale skin. In all the time I’d been with Owen, I had never drunk his blood because I’d always had a niggling little fear in the back of my mind that I might enjoy it and wouldn’t be able to stop. Vampire blood had many restorative qualities, and a tiny swallow could bring a person back from the edge of death, but it came with kind of awesome side-effects like super-human strength and heightened eyesight. I looked around the dark trees and wagons and saw everything with crystalline clarity. I could also hear the screams in the distance that had been too far away for me to hear before.
“Take it easy,” Fletcher said. “I’m sure it’s not your first time, and besides, it was only a swallow.”
I whirled to face him, anger making my fingers snap with power. Fletcher stepped back at the sight of me. Once again, I could tell my kinetic power was shining through my eyes.
“Actually, Mr. Know-It-All, that was my first time,” I said. “So no, I won’t be taking it easy.”
Fletcher dropped his eyes. “Oh. I figured you and Owen…”
“You figured wrong.”
Fletcher and I stood there, Tollis’s unconscious body between us, staring at each other. He was fighting to hold my gaze. I felt his internal struggle vibrating thanks to the power his blood had given me. If I really had expended so much energy that I was on the brink of death, I couldn’t really blame him for doing what he’d thought was right to pull me back. Just because the thought of consuming vampire blood made me feel squelchy didn’t justify me crucifying him over it.
I
swallowed, still tasting the metallic tang, and nodded. “Thank you.” I was happy to hear the sincerity in my voice.
Fletcher relaxed, his shoulders easing and a hint of a smile playing at his mouth. “Anytime.”
I shook my head. “No, but we won’t argue over semantics right now.”
The screams were fading in and out, and I wondered if it was because people were getting away or because so many of them were dead. Or maybe the small dose of vampire blood was already wearing off.
“I need to get back to the festival,” I said.
“Mattie, no.” Fletcher shook his head.
“Yes.” I put my hand up to stop him from interrupting me again. “These aren’t normal werewolves.”
“Right, they’re suffering from the Madness.”
“No. I mean, yes, but no. They are suffering from the Madness, but they aren’t normal Weres. I think they’re the humans Tollis was holding captive. He’s been feeding them some potion or something.”
“What?”
“It’s too much to explain right now,” I said. “I saw them trying to dismantle the Great Bonfire, so I need to get back there and get it lit.”
“Why?”
“I have a feeling the healing power of the flame and smoke will undo what they’ve done to these people, maybe stop all this.”
“Mattie…” Fletcher reached for me.
I realized I wanted to take his hand. We reached across Tollis’s body, and his fingers slid through mine until we were clutching each other. His fingers weren’t so cold and hard tonight. I wasn’t sure if that was due to his blood inside me or the idea that this might be the last time I got to see him. There was no unearthly glow to his eyes. He was just a boy staring back at me, and something inside me ached to step into his arms and hold him, but I didn’t.
Reluctantly, I pulled my hand out of his and stepped back, away from Tollis’s body. “Bind him for me, will you?”
Fletcher nodded. “Sure.”
I turned away, but a thought stopped me. I looked back. “Don’t kill him.”
Fletcher raised an eyebrow at me.
“I’m serious. He’s the only thing that will keep Jameson out of a collar when this all blows over. Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“Promise?”
“I said I promise.”
“Okay, but remember, you promised,” I said, tilting my head as I eyed him.
Fletcher threw up his hands. “I know, I know. I promise!”
“That’s three times you promised.” I pointed at him.
If he could have, I think Fletcher would have blushed for having fallen into the three-fold-promise so easily.
“Tricky witch,” Fletcher said, but he crouched and grabbed Tollis’s ankles to drag him toward one of the wagons.
I turned back toward the festival and the fading screams, and I ran as fast as I could. When I broke through the new encampment and found the field separating it from the festival, I realized how far Tollis had carried me. The part of the park designated for the festival was so far away that the lights didn’t even reach the wagons. The sky was dark between me and the festival.
I ran. I ran faster than I’d ever run in my life, faster than I thought possible. I wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed working out. I always thought the main reason to practice running was to make sure you could outrun someone chasing you. But when a stitch formed in my side and my lungs burned, I realized I should’ve been working out. My throat hurt and my nose was running, and when I tried to get a full breath, I coughed violently, nearly losing my balance and getting a face full of grass and dirt.
“People are insane,” I wheezed, pressing my hand into my side as if that would alleviate the pain. It was a strange holdover from childhood: it hurts, push on it. “C’mon, Mattie.” I tried to find a hidden store of energy.
The festival loomed ahead of me, slowly growing larger. Maybe I should have stayed behind to bind Tollis and let Fletcher light the Bonfire. It was too late to turn back though.
The closer to the border of the festival I got, the stronger the smells became. When I’d first arrived, the air had been full of sweet and salty and savory smells, enticing and mouthwatering. Now it was sour and burnt, making my eyes water. I didn’t want to think about what was burning to make that sour smell.
Something howled in the distance, but it was still too close for comfort. I dropped to the ground, hoping to blend in in the darkness. The edge of the festival was only a dozen yards away, and I saw shapes moving between the booths and stands. They moved in an unnatural way. They didn’t walk like humans or lope like wolves; they just meandered, their arms hanging too close to the ground.
I took a deep, steadying breath, pushed to my hands and knees, and crawled forward. I was very happy I’d left my trusty messenger bag at home, but I was missing the weapons I customarily stored in it. The single dose of knockout powder stashed in my bra wouldn’t do much against these strange animals, but the canister I usually carried might have. I shook my head, sending the tips of my hair flying around my face. It was pointless to think about something I couldn’t change.
I edged close to a booth, pressing my body against it, and craned my head around to get a better look. One of the Moon Stricken was a mere ten feet away. He was crouched over a body, or at least what was left of a body. He held a dismembered arm, tearing off chunks of flesh with his teeth. I had to cover my mouth with a hand to keep from screaming or vomiting. I watched the slow drip of blood and stringy bits hanging from the beast’s mouth, I was afraid I would lose what little food I’d eaten earlier.
I was trembling from fear or nerves or both. The Great Bonfire was so close. I could see its hulking mass and the shadow it cast. They hadn’t managed to disassemble the entire thing yet. The crunch of bones brought my attention back to the beast just in time for me to see him biting the fingers off the dead man’s hand. My face scrunched up so tight that I felt it pulling at the corners of my eyes.
“Oh gods,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
The beast made a noise and whipped up his head, sending something dark and stringy flying from his lips. His black eyes glinted in the moonlight as he tilted his head, trying to decipher where my voice had come from.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making any more noise. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot. I held my breath and tried to keep my body still, even willing my heart to stop just in case the thing could hear its thundering beat.
He lifted his face and sniffed loudly, his nostrils flaring. My body hummed with nervous energy, and my fear fed the power growing inside me. In another moment, I would light up my hiding spot like a beacon. I didn’t want to use my power on the beast, afraid I would drain myself again and be unable to light the Bonfire.
Dead grass and leaves crunched under his feet as the beast pushed out of his crouch. He bit off one more finger before throwing the arm away. The white wrist bone almost gleamed in the moonlight as it tumbled to the ground. The beast chewed the finger like bubblegum, his jaw working slowly as he pivoted on the balls of his feet, turning back and forth as he decided which way to go.
My hands were burning from holding back my power. I imagined my skin was running red with pain and heat, and my lungs were on fire, demanding relief. I tried to breathe quietly, but as soon as I exhaled, the beast spun in my direction. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot ran through my head like the beat of a drum. The beast moved between two stalls, the shadows swallowing his towering form so that all I could see were his red eyes gleaming. Something deep inside me, an ancient animalistic instinct, told me the beast was looking right at me. I knew, without a doubt, that he could see me as clearly as if I were standing in the noonday sun.
I said a silent prayer that the vampire blood was still working inside me, that maybe I hadn’t used it all up healing and running across that field. There was no point staying crouched anymore. I wouldn’t just wait for a violent, bloody death. Not this witch. No fucking way.
>
I waited until he was almost on top of me, his nightmare claws reaching for me. Up close, I realized he was well over seven feet tall—much taller than the average Were. They usually only topped six feet tall no matter how tall they were in human form.
With my heart in my throat, I pushed away from the ground, my legs full of lead and weighing about a thousand pounds each. Sparks flew from my hands as I tried to keep the pent-up energy inside me. I ran forward, dodging from right to left as he roared. The sound bounced between the wooden stalls. He struck at me, and I dropped to the ground in a puff of dirt that nearly choked me. I scrambled to my hands and knees and rushed forward, feeling dirt cake under my nails and rip them painfully.
I crawled between his legs and got back to my feet as fast as possible. I ran without looking behind me, without checking to see if the beast realized where I was. I knew that if I looked at him, I would freeze. I couldn’t let fear control me.
I burst through the stalls and out into the fairway, my foot slipping on something soft and slimy. A small scream burst from me because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’d slipped on some bloody piece of the body the beast had been eating. But I refused to look. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is look at a person who is suffering so that you can suffer with them, so that they are not alone, but that person was dead. My looking wouldn’t help him, and it would give me nightmares. I would have enough of those when the night was over.
The beast roared again, stretching it out into a creepy howl that ran up my spine and into the back of my head. My teeth chattered and my body trembled, but somehow I managed to keep running. Something howled all too close to me. I turned my head in time to see a true Were hurtling down the fairway, coming right for me. It took my mind a moment to catch up, but I recognized that pure white Were.
“Spencer,” I breathed. I felt the ground shake under me—the beast was coming.
I ran away from the beast and away from Spencer. I didn’t know if Spencer was in his right mind or Moon Struck, and I couldn’t wait around to find out. I heard an almighty crash somewhere behind me, and I imagined it was Spencer and the beast colliding. A pang of worry for Spencer went through me, but I didn’t stop. The Great Bonfire, what was left of it, was just ahead of me. I would set myself on fire and throw my body onto it before I stopped running or turned to look at the monster running after me. I just had to pray that Spencer would be all right.
Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) Page 19
