by T S Paul
~~~~~
Bill was down to his last magazine. The assassins assaulting them were armed with cheap imitations of his personal 1911 Bolt weapon. The only good thing was that his was an older model and took variations of ammo without adjustments, unlike the newer models. Smoke and flames burned his hands and arms every time he ducked down to avoid being killed. Already he had taken two shots to the leg and a ricochet that nearly removed his nose from his face. All he could think was that his wife would kill him if he died.
To his eyes, Chuck was a killing machine. The young agent had apparently been suppressing his rage. The warrior cat form was stabbing and swiping left and right. Bill was worried about Cat, but he couldn't move more than a foot without coming under fire. Without back-up, they were in serious trouble.
~~~~~~~
It was Chuck that saw her first. Anastasia danced through the line of shooters like a ballet dancer. Her feet moved faster than the human eye could see. Knives flashed in her hands as she removed heads and fought her way through the men. Chuck looked up at the clear blue sky and shook his head. How?
Ana was in heaven. It had been far too long since her knives had tasted the blood of an Englishman. Using a technique taught to her by Hans Talhoffer in the mid to late 1400s, she charged the gunmen and danced away just at the proper moment to stab and stab again. Using vampire speed and stamina, she dodged a bullet fired by one of the men seconds before she took his head. Poor Hans, he was an excellent instructor and good friend. Getting involved in local politics was usually a death sentence for a vampire. As he found out.
Ana finishing off the gunmen made it easier for Chuck to chop up the remaining assassins in close combat. He barely noticed as she grabbed Bill and carried him away from the main battle.
Bill felt himself being lifted as Ana grabbed him from behind. "Time to go, Bill."
"Ana! We need to get to Cat. The fire..." She picked him up like a suitcase and carried him bodily away from the fire.
"All a part of the plan." Ana jogged back to the RV and approached the driver's area. The fire was only just touching the edge of the seats.
"Catherine, are you still alive in there?" Grabbing the edge of the passenger door, Ana yanked it off the vehicle and peered down into the cab.
"There you are. Ready to go home?" She could see Cat wedged under the steering wheel.
Cat was uncommunicative. The smoke had rendered her unconscious already. Ana jumped up on top of the RV and climbed down into the cab. She grabbed the steering wheel and pulled up on it as hard as she could. Since they were sideways, she could bend it toward the passenger side. Cat's head immediately lolled off to one side.
"I can still hear your heart beating so no dying for you yet." Ana grabbed Cat and pulled her out of the RV. Cat's body was limp and flopped around as she carried her to safety. The RV exploded just as the two women cleared it.
Flames and hot smoke scorched the back of Ana's jacket as they fled. "This jacket is irreplaceable. How the hell am I going to get another one now?"
Cat choked and coughed. "Invent a time machine?"
"Funny. You take that show of yours on the road yet? Ten seconds more and we would have been picking up bits of each other." Anastasia ran back into the RV, dropping Cat in the sitting area.
"Seriously? I bought that jacket in Haight-Ashbury. Now it's all scorched. You can't even see the logo anymore. The place that made it for me went out of business in 1967." Ana plopped down in a chair and stared at her jacket.
Cat stare at her friend and then outside. "How did you just do that?"
"Would you believe Magick?"
~~~~~~
"Please explain what she looked like again." Marcella sat in rapt attention as I told her the dream story yet again. The ghostly woman did indeed resemble who and what Verity would have looked like. She didn't ever remember her having two bracelets though.
"I can hear them speaking to each other, Grandmother."
"What are they saying?" We were, of course, discussing the pair of bracelets. Verity called them Proof and Certainty.
"I'm not completely sure. The language sounds like Egyptian, but with nuances and inflections I've never heard before." I pointed out the hieroglyphics on the new one.
Marcella nodded. "That would make sense. Modern Egyptian is far different from its ancient counterpart. Scientists can only guess at what it really sounded like."
"I can catch a word here and there. Worship, offensive, prophecy, redemption, and defense seem to be the ones most prevalent."
"Ah. When you were seven, I had a seer friend of mine examine you. She spoke a prophecy concerning you." Marcella admitted to Agatha.
"She did? What did it say?"
"She will become the best of us. Under her leadership, our coven will accomplish great things. She is the linchpin that will make or break relations with the humans. Empires will rise, and Empires will fall. But all will bow to the Maker, the Taker, the Giver, and the Breaker. She will tame the beasts and rise to the heavens. Even the Gods will know their own. Doom be to those who cross her, but love will conquer the world."
I had to frown. "What does all that even say?"
"We don't know. Just that you have one. Kassandra wasn't forthcoming after the fact. Too much was going on that year." Marcella continued to stare at the bracelets.
"Can we contact her? Does she still live?"
"Sadly, no. She lives but is on the Witches Council now. I doubt she would cooperate now."
Chapter 18
Cat stared at her friend and co-investigator Anastasia in shock. Magick? No way! All the legends and lore she ever learned said nothing of Vampires and Magick. She owned this woman though. Without her, she might have been burned or killed. Weres are unable to restore burned flesh without outside help. Something to do with the body's natural aura according to her father. It's why fire has always been used by rogue hunters.
She shuddered. The last conscious thing she remembered before seeing Ana's face was Fergus's barn. The plastic and cardboard toy burst into flame beside her as the heat became too much for it. The little guy was going to be heartbroken that his plastic girlfriend and his treasures were gone. Agatha's in for a rough time of it, she thought.
Agatha! Cat needed to get the team moving and go help their leader. If the Strega were hitting them so hard, what were they throwing at her and Briarwood? She looked up at Ana. "I don't think it was Magick. To be truthful, I don't really care. You're my friend. We need to get the guys moving and head toward Maine. Agatha is going to need us I think."
Outside Chuck was examining the bodies of assassins and looking for survivors while Bill watched. Four were already handcuffed to the bumper of their attack vehicle.
"... that still doesn't explain how she did it." Bill looked up from the dead man with disgust. This was the one that shot him.
"People have been known to do all sorts of things at times of great stress. Maybe it was something like that. She saved all of us. That's all I care about." Chuck rolled another of the cloaked men over and finding a live one. "Got another one."
"Put him with the rest. I don't think it was the adrenaline that caused it. Did you see how proficient she was with those knives? She's done something like that before." Bill could barely stand, but didn't want Chuck to have to do all the work. Guy code demanded he at least supervise the operation.
Bill was watching Chuck drag yet another man out from under their remaining RV when Cat yelled at them to come inside.
He looked at both men. "We need to go. Bill, are you alright? I can scent the blood on you."
"It's just a scratch. We should wait for the locals to come arrest them." Bill grabbed Chuck's arm as he almost fell over, grimacing in pain.
"You're done. Chuck, bring him inside. We need to do something about that leg of his. None of the locals even bothered to show up during the battle. Forget about them." Cat got out of the way when Chuck picked up a squirming Bill and took him inside.
"Put h
im over here, Chuck." Ana grabbed the industrial-sized first-aid kit and got to work.
"Sorry about the pants." Using large shears, she cut the pants leg off all the way to the crotch. "Any other spots?"
"Whoa, watch the beans and franks there. I sort of need that part of me. The rest is scratches. I got hit by part of the exploding RV, but it didn't penetrate." Bill was horrified as she continued to cut his clothing off so casually.
"I'm checking, anyway." Shaking her head, she cut off his shirt and the other pants leg. "Stop being so prideful Bill. See this? That is a bullet groove. This is not just a scratch. Half an inch more to the right and you would be wrapped in plastic right now."
Ana slapped a few bandages on him as he watched. "This will hold for now, but we need to get you proper medical aid. Unless you wish to be a Vampire, this is all I can do for you." She arched her eyebrows and dropped just one of her fangs for him to see.
"Uh, No thanks. I'll just see a doctor or something." Bill looked down at himself. He was wearing what appeared to be cutoffs and nothing else.
"Nice look there Bill!" Chuck shouted at him when he stood up. Cat only smiled and turned back to the computer she was typing on. Weres had little sense of personal modesty.
"Can someone grab my clothes out of my room for me?" Bill pointed to the closet he used for storage.
"Chuck, did you see any local police out there?" Cat gestured outside.
"Nope. I just tried calling it in, and the number says it's out of service."
"She may be OK, but we need to get to Agatha. I'll take the heat for leaving the crime scene. I can always say when I called headquarters they told me to contact my direct supervisor, which is Agatha."
Bill grabbed the stack of clothes Ana handed to him and started putting on a fresh pair of pants. "Cat that might work, but if we fail to get Loman to court on time, they will throw all of us under the bus, and you know it."
~~~~~~~
Anticipation, hunger, and worry all swirled around me. I could almost smell victory as I started the new day. In two days I would make the handoff back to WITSEC, and they would be the ones to present Marvin to the court. Opening my eyes, I realized that what I was smelling was the pungent scent of an unwashed unicorn.
"Fergus! Go take a bath or something. You reek like a stable."
"Huh? What did you call me?" Fergus rolled off my chest where he was sleeping.
"I said you reek like a stable. Go take a bath or something. You know where everything is."
I groaned and sat up in bed. Everything in my room seemed so small. Even the bed was shorter than I remember it being. As I rubbed my face and eyes, the two bracelets made chiming noises when they touched each other. Proof and Certainty. Strange names for jewelry. It forced me to wonder if that is what they were always called.
"Are you able to talk like Proof can?" I stroked the new bracelet. Unlike Proof, Certainty's decorations were much clearer. I could feel the latent energy in both of them.
Certainty gave a small tremor in response to my question. "Was that a yes or a no? Proof, can you tell me?"
Deep in my mind, I heard the word. "Yes."
"Does that mean Certainty can talk or that you can tell me what it says?" The one-word answers got old quickly.
"No."
I threw my hands up in the air. "Which is it?" Both bracelets remained silent. But I could almost hear then talking to each other. It was a murmur of words just out of reach in my brain. I could see the shape of the letters but couldn't make it out clearly.
Getting up I proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. Fergus was still in the shower singing about hay and rain. He had the twang down, but a country singer he was not.
"Agatha!" I could hear Grandmother yelling up the stairs, so I hurriedly put my shoes on and grabbed my gun. I was pretty good at following the FBI rules that stated that active agents must be armed at all times.
I love the stairs in our house. The staircase is big and carved with mythological creatures the entire way down. Scarlet, eat your heart out!
"Grandmother, what's wrong?" She was pacing back and forth in the foyer. Her spell bag and purse were gripped in her fist.
"Cappy's in the hospital in Pembroke. They flew him there last night."
"What happened to him? Was he in a crash or something?" Cappy was one of her oldest and dearest friends.
"Camilla happened. She turned crazy last night and killed her husband, Peter. Agatha, she used magick. They will be reporting this to FBI. They have to. One of the town deputies is dead as well. She managed to escape after blowing up two police cars and a neighbor's truck." Marcella closed her eyes and muttered what sounded to me like a prayer to the Goddess.
"I can't leave Marvin alone. I'll have to call my team. They can either hunt her down or watch him while I do it. Grandmother, if I call them, the Strega might attack me here. I don't want you hurt by them." I wrapped my arms around her.
"You worry for me, child? Regardless of treaties and rules, if they attack me here, openly, they will pay. Worry about them if you must. The Strega and I have tangled before. If they do come, take them into the Garden. The Garden can take care of itself. Dark magick isn't allowed to thrive there. At least not in daylight. I have to go see to Cappy. Call if your need is real. Remember to trust in yourself and others. Only the darkness requires instant obedience."
I stood in the doorway and watched as she drove away in her beat-up old Land Rover. This assignment had already claimed the lives of too many people. Should I take a chance on the town that shunned me for half my young life?
~~~~~~~
Three large black cars quietly rolled into town. Tourist season was just beginning, and strangers weren't an unusual sight for the residents of Briarwood, Maine. The Purple Festival was only a few days away, and many store owners were out hanging bunting and other decorations. While a nuisance, the magickal purple squirrels were a fixture in the town. Tourists came from all over to take pictures and stare at the little pests. On the lookout for an easy buck, some of the town elders thought up the festival idea a few years ago.
"Did the Witch say where our target was staying?" The leader of this unit of the Missionaries of Death was a man known only as Hassan. It was not uncommon for known assassins to take the names of infamous past leaders.
"No, but we can ask her. Our latest information says she is at the Blackmore Estate. Access is limited. Electronic surveillance, gates, and suspected Magickal wards. We will have to blast through and use the breaker to gain access. Intelligence suggests at least three Witches in residence."
Hassan glared at his second-in-command, and primary intelligence man, Sargu. He hooked his finger over his shoulder. "Why am I just now learning this? Didn't the bitch in the back give us access?"
"She has been most uncooperative. The only thing she has aided us with is a base of operations. Her file says that her late husband had empty warehouses at the edge of town." Sargu pointed to a location on his tablet.
"Take us there. We have only a small window of opportunity to act."
Futch and Sons was a company founded by Camilla's fourth husband, Harold Futch. He intended to have sons to match the daughters his wife already had. When his plan was exposed, he accidentally fell off a cliff while hiking the next day. Camilla was at a ladies brunch when it happened and wasn't a suspect at the time. The Missionaries had been associates ever since.
Dilapidated and rotting fish warehouses sat alone in a field at the very end of the road. The fishing industry went bust in the area more than thirty years previously. A metal gate hung listlessly swinging in the breeze.
The cars rolled to a stop between the two largest buildings. "Here is good." Hassan jumped out and quickly began unloading the rear of the car.
Other black-clad men appeared as the cars disgorged their contents. Guns, bombs, and motorcycles emerged from the back of the vehicles. Camilla practically fell out of the back of the last car when it was opened. Her clothing was disheve
led, and blood dripped from her lip and forehead.
"I protest this treatment and attack on me! I paid in good faith, and this is how you treat a customer?" Green fire lit her eyes as a fireball formed in her hand.
Hassan looked at his former client turned secret weapon and smiled. He spoke a word of power and pointed at the now raging woman. Camilla froze in place. Only her eyes could move as she struggled to move or even speak.
"Good. Get angry. Let the rage build inside of you. Now you see how easy it is to control the unwary. Poor little Witch. So powerful. So vulnerable. This is where the need for training is so necessary. You are my newest secret weapon. All that magick, all that potential, bottled up to be released with a single word." Hassan caressed Camilla's face, only the horror in her blinking eyes showing her emotions. "Load her up, and let's go kill some Witches."
