Under Witch Curse (Moon Shadow Series)

by Maria Schneider

  The coyote stepped on a silver ball, yelped and dodged. I pulled silver and then pushed again. The ones that hit sizzled, but continued to bounce off. “Mayan moonlight sacrifices in a bloodbath!” I knew I should have gone with something pointy and sharp.

  Matilda pounded on Jim’s back. He heaved a breath and stopped gagging as suddenly as he had started.

  Zandy coiled again. His growl was unnecessary showing off. I already knew he was gunning for me.

  I pushed again, not even thinking about where or how. Balls zinged through the air, one of them scoring a lucky hit on Zandy’s eye. It wasn’t that my aim was improving, it was that I had no other option than to keep pounding him.

  Zandy leaped anyway. The silver on my wrists flared, and the gold ring on my finger went hot. “Moonlight madness!” Now White Feather would be the one to find my dead body next to that of his brother.

  I ducked and rolled. My momentum carried me further inside, while Zandy went over my head into the relatively cleaner alley.

  Mat yelled, “Roll again!” No longer behind Jim, she gathered the water from the floor, her eyes an eerie transparent blue, a wave that you think you can see through, but can’t. The water swelled into a black roll and spilled against the back of the door that Zandy had just leapt through.

  She almost slammed it closed, but Zandy turned and jammed his canine self against the wood. Black water burst backwards from the force of his hit, mostly missing me.

  I linked to Mother Earth in a desperate search for more silver. If Mat had a silver dagger...the first silver I sensed was in the kitchen, but I was too new at this to grasp any useful information.

  Despite my concentration, the silver resisted me, clanging, but not moving to me. I took two steps towards the kitchen, but finally recognized the shape enough to realize its nature. “Great. I’ll beat him to death with a spoon.”

  The only other silver sensation came from the shop. “Spells with silver?” The feel of it was odd, and I almost ignored it. But Zandy was behind me now so there was no point in standing in the open. I bolted for the front of the store and the silver. It didn’t matter what the spell was set to do. If it had silver in it, that was good enough for me.

  The jar was a beacon calling to me, but even after picking it up, I couldn’t guess anything about it except its silver content.

  Silver flakes? Maybe it would stick to his fur.

  I didn’t even have to return to the living room. Mat screamed an obscenity. Jim yelled something about a gun. I didn’t wait. I pulled the stopper, pushed the silver, and physically threw the entire jar into the snarling jaws of a mad coyote.

  I grounded hard, waiting to feel teeth lock onto my arm. My grandmother’s bracelet was on my right wrist, held high, protecting my throat. I ducked sideways, but Zandy was already midflight.

  He would have hit me too if Jim hadn’t landed across his back, cutting short the launch. They hit the floor hard.

  Zandy snarled, whined, sneezed. Both paws frantically rubbed at the liquid silver on his snout.

  “Colloidal silver,” I gasped. I didn’t even need to keep directing it. The wet blob burned without bouncing off.

  I clenched my fists with the effort of calling the silver beads from the living room. Several pinged off the wall; guiding them all through the doorway at once wasn’t in my skill set yet. Those that beat the odds pelted the already injured coyote.

  Jim scrambled to the right, putting some distance between he and Zandy.

  I pushed and pulled carefully now. There were a lot of spells in this room. No sense in setting them off by accident.

  Mat rolled through the doorway in one fluid motion. She spat a word, flung a spell and dove for the floor. I’m no idiot; I went down behind the counter the second she started flinging.

  Zandy’s fur ignited in a huge fireball. He barked an injured cry that changed to screaming yelps as he scrambled for the back door.

  None of us made a move to stop him.

  Chapter 16

  Jim groaned first. Or maybe he was just the loudest. I raised myself on my elbows and dared peek around the side of the counter.

  “Whaat—?” Jim moaned out.

  “Did he scratch you?” I whispered. I owed Jim my life. Or my sanity. It wasn’t a comfortable position to be in, given that my best friend hated him.

  “Jim?” Either a rat was in the room or Mat had developed a higher pitch to her voice.

  “What,” he repeated weakly.

  I decided to crawl over and see if he might live. Mat’s phone rang. I touched the gold band on my hand, but it had cooled. White Feather was bound to be trying to reach me. I kissed the ring and hoped he’d know I was okay.

  By the time I stumbled to Jim, Mat was patting his face and arms, searching for wounds. He stayed down, blinking and breathing.

  “That stuff. What. Was that stuff?” he finally wheezed out.

  “He’s a shifter,” I said. “Coyote.”

  His hand flopped weakly. “No. Stuff you were shooting. Buckshot? Lead pellets? Spelled?”

  I frowned. “Silver.”

  “Spell? Will it kill me?”

  Of course, he’d been hit. I’d been slapped with my own beads, multiple places. “Just silver. Shifters can’t handle it. But the beads bounced off him for the most part. I was aiming for his eyes or hoping to stuff some down his throat, but I’m not that accurate yet.”

  He groaned. It was a magnificent cacophony, worthy of a passionate death throe. Quite overdone, really. Sure the pellets hurt. There was a large welt on my arm and possibly one on my forehead, but he was a cop. Surely he’d been hurt worse.

  “Jim?” Matilda leaned in closer. “I don’t see any scratches. Are you bleeding anywhere?”

  He finally peeled one eyelid back, but he had eyes only for me. There was no sign of the smug individual from the dinner table. His brown eyes were regretful, worried and angry. “Your aim was off,” he bellowed. “I swallowed the damn thing!”

  Mat blinked and then switched her attention to me. When the tension left my shoulders in a puffed out breath, she said, “Unspelled?”

  I nodded, unable to keep a smirk from my face. “But I’m definitely planning to change that. And add some arrowheads to my collection. Mat, did you know you don’t have a single silver dagger in the place?”

  She huffed. “I’m not like you. I generally don’t need to carry around weapons.”

  “Yes, you do!” Jim and I yelled at the same time.

  She startled back on her heels. “Well, I didn’t before.”

  “What happened?” I demanded.

  Her eyes slid to Jim. “We were having a discussion.”

  “A fight,” Jim corrected. “And she opened the door to kick my ass out, only the damned coyote was there waiting. Luckily, I was avoiding the door, despite the fact that sewage was spewing from all the drains, or that thing would have had me for lunch.”

  Mat straightened her shoulders. “I told you there was nothing to talk about.” Only from the way she was gazing at him now, maybe there were a few things worth discussing.

  “I need to call White Feather.” I started towards the living area, but stopped without turning around. “I owe you one, Jim. Gordon. Whoever you are.” Mat would probably hate me, but he had tackled Zandy right before the coyote sank his teeth in me.

  “White Feather would never forgive me if I let something happen to you,” he growled.

  “Neither would I,” Mat said softly.

  Okay, this was definitely the kind of thing I had been trying to avoid walking in on.

  I stomped to the phone and called White Feather’s cell. Of course he was on his way already.

  I told him what had happened and assured him it was over.

  He said, “I’ll pick you up.”

  “What about my car?”

  There was static on the line for a bit and then he said, “This truck will be madness to park that close to the plaza.”

  “Truck?” Neither o
f us owned a truck. Maybe he meant his jeep, although he was in the process of converting it from a gas guzzler to a vehicle that could run off stored energy from the windmills. “I’m fine. I’ll drive myself home. No vamps this time.”

  His sigh was as expected as cold in the wintertime. “Zandy may as well be a vamp.”

  “I know. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

  “You’re fine?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “What route are you taking back? When are you leaving? Zandy might come back.”

  “I’m leaving right this second. I’m going, I’m going.”

  When I hung up the phone, Mat had her hands on her hips, surveying the damage. “I think I’ll invest in a silver dagger.”

  “And a spear. Zandy is infected with more than your average shifter.”

  She pushed her foot through a murky pile of sludge. “There was already some plaster missing from the side of the kitchen. Now it’s wet. And smelly.”

  “Let me guess.”

  She held up her hand. “It wasn’t the toilet. I kind of wish it was. Who knew the stuff that went down kitchen drains was this gross?”

  I leaned over and picked up a silver bead. So long as I was down there, I called the rest to me. Unintentionally I felt the tingle of the ball that was inside Jim. “You okay here?” I asked, tilting my head to the front of the shop.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”

  “You tell Jim I said he can keep that silver bead, ‘k?”

  Despite her stress, she laughed. Right away, she stifled it with her hand. “I need to learn that trick of yours.”

  I shook my head. “It isn’t perfected yet.”

  “Oh, it was perfect. Although the timing was off. I’d have liked to have done it without having to fight off a rabid coyote.”

  We hugged tight and I whispered, “I didn’t know he was lying to you, Mat. And even still, he might not be all bad.”

  She nodded into my shoulder. “He said he started seeing me as a way to collect info on the underground, on us witches. But he swears that only lasted the first date. He saved me. And you. I wonder if he can fix my wall?”

  I pulled back and surveyed the large missing chunk of plaster. My beads hadn’t done that, but from the stray wood piece hanging from the side, it looked as though a broken chair had made solid contact. “Thanks to Dad, I know a guy who can help fix this up better than it was before the coyote.”

  “Really? It’s awfully damaged.”

  “White Feather is waiting for me.” I didn’t tell her that he had picked up on the fact that I was in trouble. We didn’t really understand what that magic was all about. “You okay here?”

  She nodded. “Except for the mess that is my life and house, sure.” She tried to smile. “You’re better at this stuff than I am.”

  “Just think of it as another spell gone wrong,” I advised.

  “Yeah, but how do I know if there’s anything worth salvaging?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. On my way out, I noticed the pile of clothes that had been against the building was gone. Zandy had come in broad daylight, shifted, and was ready to ambush my friend. What I didn’t know was why.

  Chapter 17

  When I arrived at White Feather’s, Lynx was helping Tracy and White Feather unload Dad’s red four-wheel drive truck. It was filled with the burners and exhaust hood from my lab. The cabinets and tables were already unloaded, sitting by the truck. The breath I let out sounded a little like “Aztec Curses,” but I was still inside my car so no one heard. Half of me was annoyed about the stuff being moved without my permission, but the more reasonable side of me knew it was necessary. Still...

  White Feather approached as I exited the car and gave me the once over. “We need to figure out how I can get to you faster, because knowing you’re in trouble when I’m miles away isn’t working.” He closed his eyes. “I can’t follow you around every second, and this time I was already at your place only you were not.”

  He was obviously conflicted, caught between anger and helplessness. Since my own feelings mirrored his, albeit for different reasons, it almost made up for his invasion of my privacy. “Maybe you could just send your wind magic like you did the first time.” I eyed my stuff with a frown. He could have at least told me he was bringing my lab over.

  “I sent my wind?”

  “I think so.”

  “Would you know what to do with it?”

  Now there was a problem. “Might take some practice. I see you’ve moved most of my lab.” Voicing my irritation only made it build. I could drain anger into Mother Earth all I wanted; she was more than happy to accept energy, but when my emotions were out of control, I tended to draw power from her, rather than find a ground. And when I drew energy, it needed somewhere to land, such as a spell. Otherwise I was a fuse about to blow.

  White Feather recognized the pending explosion. He gripped my arm. “I thought bringing all your supplies over here would mean no more of my heart jumping out of my chest to get to you. But you managed to find other trouble besides a rogue vamp.”

  “I didn’t know Zandy was planning an ambush!”

  Before we could escalate the argument, Lynx sauntered our way. No way would I air my personal problems in front of him. He’d already heard more than enough. My lips locked down in disgust.

  “We moved your stuff without taking anything out of the cabinet,” Lynx said, waving at the cupboards and drawers. “I told him the whole thing could explode anyway.”

  “Everything seems to have made it in one piece.” Disappointment warred with common sense. I had spells on that cabinet to protect it and the contents, but this had to count as a failure.

  Lynx said, “I wasn’t gonna pick the locks, that’s for sure.” He crossed himself. “White Feather lifted most of it with his wind power. We just had to keep it from tipping over.” His tone carried awe and respect. “I still don’t know why it didn’t explode.”

  “I’ll have to see about fixing that. I never thought to protect it against someone taking the whole thing lock, stock and barrel. It’s heavy and unwieldy.”

  White Feather’s grin was a little too satisfied for my mood. “I didn’t do anything that would set off any spells. Besides, your magic is attuned to mine, which is why I know when you’re in trouble.”

  “Is that it?”

  He frowned. “Maybe.”

  We walked to the cabinet. There were two spells that had activated, but one must not have worked because neither Lynx nor White Feather had mentioned burns. The delayed reaction spell had definitely been set off, so even if the initial burn hadn’t taken, the later one would. “Lynx, you said you steadied it?” His hands would eventually blister from the delayed curse.

  “Me and Tracy. Other than it heating up, it didn’t do nothing.”

  “So you did feel heat from the first spell. But White Feather’s wind must have cooled it.” There were ways for me to concoct a stronger spell, not that my cabinet needed protection against White Feather. But his was not the only wind around, as we had experienced not that long ago. “Did you bring the holy water from my lab?”

  Lynx shook his head and worriedly began inspecting his hands. “Why?”

  “I used parsnip tops in a delay spell. Once your hands are exposed to sunlight for a short time, they will blister. The spell soaks through the skin.” I scowled at his hands. “Never mind. Rather than rinse it off, maybe I can use another trick.” I linked to earth and searched out the dust that would have transferred with the spell. Before I had learned to recognize silver from a distance, I’d never have tried to remove traces of a spell this way, but it was easier than expected. The particles were like little beacons. Calling them to me was easier than silver because they were lighter and attracted to me since I set them.

  “Hey!” Lynx jumped back and rubbed his hands against his pants.

  “Hold still,” I muttered. “White Feather, you too.”

  I pulled, just like I
did with the silver. The only difference was that this time, White Feather’s wedding ring glowed for a couple of seconds before the dust went back to Mother Earth.

  Lynx was more upset than White Feather. He peered at his hands, inspecting them for traces he hadn’t seen. “Knew I should have stayed out of it. Witches,” Lynx grumbled. “I ain’t gonna move anymore of your stuff.”

  His snarky attitude reminded me of Tara, which reminded me of something else. I snapped my fingers. “I have a note for you from Tara. I meant to deliver it to you, but it’s been warmer out, and it’s in my heavier jacket.” I didn’t give him time to complain. I left him arguing with White Feather about how to transport the cabinet into the new lab without Lynx having to touch it. If they were paranoid about any remaining bits of the spell, well, they both should have known better than to mess with my belongings.

  In the hallway I met Tracy on his way back outside. I reached for the curse particles without bothering to tell him, but there was nothing there. “Did you touch the cabinet?”

  He nodded. “Sure. Had to move it.”

  “Can I see your hands?”

  He lifted them, palms out. They weren’t clean, but the spell particles were gone or neutralized. “Hmm.” There might have been the faintest traces of my magic, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say they had been completely absorbed—or maybe smothered. “Do you know how you do that? How you manipulate Mother Earth into bricks or how you absorb dirt and change it into what you want it to be?

  He stared at his hands. “No.”

  Without any sign of worry or curiosity he walked away. He was either really in touch with his karma or he was just plain touched.

  I waited until the cabinet was settled in the lab before handing Lynx the note from Tara.

  He drifted outside to read it in private, leaving me to inspect the lab. To my amazement, the outside walls were nearly finished. The roofers would be able to start in another day or so.

  Tracy hit the showers while White Feather drove the truck back to Dad and picked up burritos.