by Tasha Black
The squeals of laugher reminded her that it was Halloween. This was the parade from the Community Center through the local businesses.
Her stomach turned as she envisioned that thing tearing through the giddy group of children and parents.
She and Cressida picked up the pace, and crossed Yale. They were wet, dirty and terrified, and the small downtown was packed. Grace tried to imagine what she would say if someone tried to greet them.
They passed the pastry shop and art studio without drawing any attention. There was a crowd outside Coslaw & Associates, where Minnie Henderson gave out candy. Minnie was still tall and thin with a touch of hippie glamour — just as she’d been when Grace and Ainsley were kids.
Grace fought a wave of nausea as she pictured her best friend’s stone cold expression in the cave below town. The expression that said she was willing to watch Grace die.
Grace could hardly blame her, really, she respected Ainsley for making a choice for the greater good. But did she have to make it look so... easy?
“...no, I have no idea where Charley is, Marge. This is his favorite night of the year,” Minnie was saying. She shook her auburn head, jingling the tiny bells in her dangly earrings.
Well, Grace had a pretty good idea of where Charley was. He wasn’t going to be giving out any more candy.
She and Cressida made it across the lawn of the library and into the lower level entrance to the Tarker’s Hollow Police Station uncontested.
The door stood intact, so Grace figured the moroi probably hadn’t arrived. That meant Ainsley was headed for trouble. They would have to join her, but Grace had business here first.
She stormed inside, past the bulletin board and the reception area.
“Gracie?” Dale called to her.
She didn’t break her stride, though she had to avert her eyes as she passed the Interrogation Room. Thinking about her night there with Julian wasn’t going to help her now.
Cressida still followed a step behind. She hadn’t said a word on their trip into town. That was for the best. Grace didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.
She found strange comfort in the presence of the silent she-wolf. Grace was numb with grief and Cressida didn’t give a flying fuck. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.
“Why are you all wet?” Dale continued, trotting after them, his voice at a higher pitch.
Grace unlocked the armory closet and grabbed a 9mm pistol. She checked it, though there was no need. All the weapons in the Tarker’s Hollow PD armory were kept clean and loaded. She saw to that personally. It was perfect.
She locked the door behind her out of habit, and continued toward the holding area.
“What are you doing?” Dale tried again.
“Go back to the desk, Dale.” The gravel in her voice surprised her, and must have told Dale she meant business, because he headed in the other direction immediately.
Grace reached Garrett’s cell.
He stood in the middle of the space, cradling the stump of his right arm in his left. His posture looked almost relaxed, his pale blue eyes clear. It was as if he had known she would come at this exact moment.
“Okay, Sanderson,” Grace said. “I’m going to keep this simple. The moroi ate your friend, Charley, but it’s still hungry. I think you’re going to be next. Let’s go.”
She unlocked the cell door, slid it open with a loud clang, and took a big step back, giving him room to exit.
He held eye contact with her for a long moment before shaking his head.
She lifted the gun and pointed it at him. At this range, she didn’t need to aim.
“Grace,” Cressida said softly.
“This man is the reason Julian is gone,” Grace said firmly. “He is going to pay, one way or the other.”
She thumbed back the hammer of the gun. Garrett remained in place. She would rather he met the same fate as his friend, but she was ready to send him to hell if he didn’t move.
“This isn’t you, Officer Kwan-Cortez,” Cressida said, trying to remind her of her duty. “You don’t need this on your conscience.”
“Stay out of this,” Grace warned her.
Cressida sighed, and moved into the path of the firearm, right outside the doorway to the cell.
“You are a good person, Grace. Maybe the only one of us who still is. Don’t throw that away on this dirtbag.”
Grace stared at her, unblinking.
“You can put the gun down now,” Cressida told her.
“I can’t,” Grace replied.
“It’s okay,” Cressida said, in a voice that was almost gentle. “Really.”
“No, no, I mean I can’t,” Grace said, panic creeping into her voice. “I can’t move.”
Below them, intricate runes scrawled on the linoleum floor in what looked like blood began to glow and pulse.
How had she not noticed them?
“Shit,” Cressida hissed. “I can’t either.”
Behind her wolf companion, Garrett regarded them with a smug smile.
“Sorry, Officer Kwan-Cortez,” Garrett said, in that annoying, slow voice. “I think I will be taking my leave of you now.”
He moved closer to Cressida, but instead of slipping past her and exiting the cell, he paused behind her and leaned close.
“It is a pity, though,” He whispered in Cressida’s ear as his good hand stroked her damp hair. “I would enjoy getting to know you better.”
“You know,” he teased, meeting Grace’s gaze over Cressida’s shoulder. “The way I did with your other friend, Lilliana?”
The air crackled with the electricity of Grace’s hatred.
Praying to her abuelo for strength, Grace focused all her rage into a tiny pinpoint.
Her finger moved a hair.
Please, just a little more.
The gunshot thundered, deafening in the small space.
Chapter 16
Ainsley flew through the woods, Ophelia’s pull on her strengthening as she closed the distance between them.
Her paws kicked up the scent of the rich soil, and the underbrush scratched her pelt with reaching fingers.
In wolf form, Ainsley usually had the simple pleasure of knowing she was doing exactly what she should. But tonight, an unfamiliar note of wrongness sounded just loud enough to be heard through the rhythm of her running.
The magnetism of Ophelia’s call intensified, and Ainsley found herself bursting out of the woods and into Erik’s field. The tall grasses tickled her snout as she bounded toward her alpha.
But she sensed that something wasn’t right.
Ainsley could just see Ophelia’s pale forehead above the grass, and her dark hair swirling in the breeze.
With one last delirious burst of speed, Ainsley sailed over the grasses and landed on splayed legs before her.
Ophelia sat in the grass, naked. She smelled of blood, and fighting.
Ophelia reached out a beckoning hand to Ainsley.
Ainsley obliged immediately by shifting into human form.
Her vision expanded, her other senses receded, and instantly, the details began to arrange themselves.
Ophelia was, bruised and battered, but still in one piece. She must have shifted and fought, but somehow been spared by the moroi.
Could she have beaten it?
Ainsley thought of Ophelia’s performance in the battle with Garret and Charley. If anyone could handle the moroi single handedly, it would be Ophelia.
Ainsley lowered herself onto her hands and knees in the tall grass, intoxicatingly close to the powerful fallen alpha.
Ophelia dragged herself closer still and collapsed into Ainsley’s arms.
Every cell in Ainsley’s body stood at attention, the feeling of actually holding her alpha in her arms should have been overwhelming. But it wasn’t, at least not in the way she would have expected. Instead, she began to feel dreamy.
“What happened?” Ainsley whispered.
“The moroi came. We f
ought. It drained a lot of my energy, but I defeated it. It will not be harming anyone else.” Ophelia replied with quiet satisfaction.
She made it sound so simple.
Ainsley fought to think through the haze of her submission.
Maybe they had all been a little too worked up about this thing. There certainly hadn’t been alphas as powerful as Ophelia around when the moroi had been locked up in the first place.
“Let’s get you inside,” she murmured in Ophelia’s ear.
“No. I just need a few minutes to gather my strength,” Ophelia said, pinching Ainsley’s shoulder with hard fingers, then squeezing herself more completely into Ainsley’s arms.
“Fine,” Ainsley said, a little taken aback.
Ophelia tilted her head up to gaze at Ainsley. Her eyes were always dark, but tonight they were like black liquid pools.
“You did very well today, Ainsley,” Ophelia murmured.
A lingering warmth spread through Ainsley’s chest. It was a bit like the last time she had pleased Ophelia, but this time there was no tingle of submissive attraction.
“I’m proud of the way you handled yourself,” Ophelia purred, snuggling so close she practically melted into Ainsley’s lap.
The incredible, comforting warmth spread through Ainsley’s whole body. The tall grasses around them fell away, then Erik’s house, then all of Tarker’s Hollow grew distant and unimportant. Only Ophelia’s warm praise, and the midnight pools of her eyes remained.
Ainsley’s submission had never allowed her to gaze unfettered at Ophelia’s eyes before. They were lovely. And Ainsley was so tired. It would feel so good just to rest with her alpha now.
Just for a minute.
A fierce snarl rent the air, knocking Ophelia out of her arms.
As soon as their physical contact broke, Ainsley snapped to full alertness.
A slender, silvery wolf circled Ophelia, hackles raised.
Cressida.
The moonlight lit up her lustrous pelt, making her look almost ghostly.
Ainsley tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she slumped back into the grass. What had Ophelia done to her?
She lifted her palms to the air and called to her energy. A few blue sparks bounced half-heartedly in her hands.
Desperately, Ainsley tried to make contact with the pack. Come to me!
But she felt no answering call. In fact, she could barely sense her pack at all.
The crunch of running footsteps approached from the woods at her back.
Chapter 17
Grace couldn’t shift, but she was fast.
She tailed Cressida as closely as she could through the trees. Branches whipped her face, but she ran on, doing her best to navigate the gnarled tree roots and loose stones.
She would feel this tomorrow, but tomorrow didn’t matter anymore, now that—
Grace pushed thoughts of Julian from her mind.
She could just see the moonlight on the grass through the last of the trees, when she heard Cressida snarl. She pushed hard and burst out of the woods.
Grace struggled to get her mind around the scene that greeted her.
Cressida circled the naked and battered-looking Ophelia, hackles raised and growling. Ainsley sat in grass nearby, a lost look on her face. She didn’t have any clothes on either.
“What’s going on?” Grace asked, rushing to her friend. “Why is Cressida fighting Ophelia?”
Ainsley opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried again.
“That’s not Ophelia,” she managed.
“Nad-Loo-Shee!” Ophelia said, in a voice that sounded like several voices layered over each other, then spat at Cressida.
Even Grace knew that was a mistake. It didn’t matter that Ophelia wasn’t Ophelia, or that she sounded like a Greek chorus. What little she knew of Cressida told her that the she-wolf wouldn’t put up with being spat on.
Cressida lowered her silvery head and charged directly for the thing that was not Ophelia.
Not-Ophelia cringed.
Cressida froze.
Not-Ophelia backed up slowly.
Cressida shifted.
She was so utterly naked that it took a moment for Grace to notice that she also had one eyebrow raised.
Grace would never understand how these wolves could just be naked in front of each other, and apparently everyone else. If she had to shift, she’d definitely invent some kind of inter-species clothing to avoid the sudden nudity.
Though at this point she was beginning to feel over-dressed.
“She’s afraid of me? Cressida asked. “What the hell?”
“Ainsley?” Grace asked.
“Kill her,” Ainsley said immediately.
Grace drew her weapon and advanced on Not Ophelia.
The edges of the creature began to shimmer, then it melted into another shape.
It was Charley Coslaw, right down to the brown corduroys. At least he was dressed.
Julian had told her the moroi could take the form of creatures it fed on, but she hadn’t expected the results to be so uncanny.
“Grace,” he said, hands raised, “you’ve known me all your life. Can’t we find a way to work this out?”
She shot him directly between the eyes.
The bullet simply disappeared.
Charley smiled.
Grace unloaded the gun into him.
He smiled again.
“I expected more from you,” he said, as his edges began to shimmer.
The next moment he was a gigantic grey wolf.
The wolf turned back to Cressida.
Cressida melted into her slender wolf, and lowered herself on splayed paws, ready to dodge.
The larger wolf charged, and Cressida darted away. It charged again. Again, she sailed away.
Grace could see that Cressida was no match for the larger wolf. She might use her agility for some time to escape, but eventually it would wear her down.
They were far from the station, Ainsley was sitting weakly on the ground. By the time back-up arrived they might all be dead.
And Grace had no power to hurt the thing.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to think of something.
Something tugged at her.
At first, it was a tiny, tingling pull at the corner of her mind — similar to the electric sensation she had when Julian touched her.
Then, the buzz spread through her whole body, and quickly receded from all but one spot.
The shard of the key.
She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the key launch itself into her palm. It crackled with magic.
Good magic.
But could she control it?
It cried out to her to be shaped.
Grace focused on the shard. As it began to warm in her hand, Cressida yelped, and her concentration was broken.
“No,” Grace whispered to herself. “Focus.”
Light, as black as Ophelia’s obsidian eyes, began to pour from the crystalline shape in her palm.
As Grace moved her hand back and forth, the light began to solidify and take shape.
Grace redoubled her efforts, guiding and coaxing the light. In her mind’s eye, she could clearly see what the key wanted to be.
She closed her eyes, willing the shape from her mind to her hand.
When she opened them, she held a curved, obsidian sword.
Grace looked up to a terrible sound as the giant wolf pinned Cressida on her back.
Without a second thought, Grace launched herself at the larger wolf and slashed at its back for all she was worth.
The magical sword winked as its arc cut through the moonlight, then sliced into the evil wolf’s pelt.
The moroi-wolf fell off of Cressida, howling in agony.
Cressida hobbled away, dragging herself closer to Ainsley.
Grace took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It was up to her now. She would defeat
this thing, or join her beloved.
The moroi-wolf snapped at her with impossible speed.
Grace lifted the heavy blade just in time.
Again it howled.
Suddenly, the hollow feeling Grace had been fighting was filled with furious energy, like molten steel. Instead of waiting for the thing to attack again, she went after it with vicious intent, slashing and stabbing.
The wolf backed away. Grace cut again and again, until they reached the edge of the bamboo forest that led down to the creek.
The wolf fell, defeated.
Grace stood over it, sword raised, ready to deliver the killing blow.
Its edges blurred once more, and Grace caught her breath as she recognized the familiar yellow raincoat.
Lilliana.
For one horrible second, Grace hesitated.
“I came to you for help,” Lilliana said in a tremulous voice. “You let them kill me.”
Grace lowered her sword.
Lilliana withered before her into the dried up husk they had found under the field house. The form began to crack. Pieces of Lilliana’s cheeks crumbled away, then the rest of her crumbled too. The debris that had been Lilliana morphed into a thousand tiny red snakes that darted into the bamboo before Grace could react.
Cursing herself inwardly for her weakness, Grace slashed desperately at the bamboo, but the little snakes were gone.
The moment she stopped wielding it, the sword shrank back into the shard of a crystal key.
She placed it carefully in her pocket and walked slowly back to her friends.
Cressida curled around Ainsley’s limp body.
“Is she okay?” Grace asked.
Cressida nodded.
“Just passed out, it looks like.”
“What about you?” Grace asked.
“Banged up, but okay. You?” Cressida asked lightly.
Incredibly weak and stupid.
“I’m fine,” Grace said quickly. “How did you know it wasn’t Ophelia?”
“How did you not?” Cressida asked.
“I can’t believe I let it get away,” Grace said softly.
“I can’t believe you shot me.” Cressida replied.
