by Ben Alderson
I close my eyes and raise my hands before me. It is not about seeing the power I control, but feeling it deep within my soul. There is no better place to command the darkness than being in it. And I am certainly in it right now.
Either Abraxon aids me or it’s simpler than I thought it’d be. My hands fumble until they brush over slick ropes of darkness. In my mind’s eye, I can see it clearly. With both hands, I grab on, twisting the dark rope around my arm, twice, until I am certain I have it firmly in place.
Opening my eyes, I see the world in a different light. Shadows slither and snake from buildings. They move like live beings, turning their attentions to me as I take my first step forward.
“This is…”
Beautiful, Abraxon answers for me. You are one with my shadows now, so you can move unseen.
As Abraxon suggests, I step forward, now an assassin of the dark, in his domain. Around the corner, I walk, no longer worried that I will be seen, and as I get closer, my prediction comes true. No hunter turns to see me.
On and on, I walk until the clear voice of Elder Jane can be heard. I only stop when I am almost beside her, looking on at the leader of the hunters. I spare Elder Jane a glance. She, unlike the hunters, still has the strange shadows coming from her body. Being this close, I can hear them sing. It’s as if my head has been dunked beneath the ocean and I listen to its deep music. The sounds given off are a symphony that both turn my stomach and lull me into a false sense of… familiarity.
“This is your final warning,” Elder Jane calls, winds carrying her voice high. “Leave now, or the bloodshed will be on your hands.”
“Then it is not too late, for we are here for bloodshed. Hillcrest is an infested town, one that must be cleansed by the brave warriors behind me. Once we have dealt with you, the world will be freed of one less hellion.”
Elder Jane does not reply. Instead, she raises her left hand in signal. If it wasn’t for the shift of the front line of hunters and their captivated gazes, I would not know what she did.
Behind us, witches step onto the street. Teachers from the academy and even the eldest students join our battle. Their faces are pinched with fury for this war, and their bodies tense with anger. But still, only Elder Jane exuded the shadows.
“You have your people, and now, I have mine.” Elder Jane’s lips thin even more, and her cheeks blush with color. “Hunter, you are not welcome within the boundaries of Hillcrest. As our sacred duty of protection, you have forced my hands. Leave.”
With her final word, countless witches lift their hands, and a hurricane of wind explodes across the street, aimed for the hunters. Many topple over as soon as the conjured witch winds connect with them. Some kneel to keep their position. The winds force the hunters to slide and skid away, which causes another group of witches to rush forward. Their hands are bouncing balls of fire. As their muscles flex and the balls of flames are launched into the night sky, a chorus of loud pops sounds. Witches fall to the ground.
Bullets. Careful, George.
Abraxon is right, I can see the gleam of metal weapons that are held in the hands of hunters, who somehow found their way atop nearby buildings.
Before I can think of an escape plan, everyone runs—witches and hunters alike—right at each other. Some move straight through me as if I am no more than a ghost.
Before more witches succumbed to the mundane bullets of the hunters, I raise my own unseen magic and call for fire to warm the metal. Even from the high distance of their perches, I catch their cries of pain and the clattering of guns as they fall a great distance onto the street.
We must return to the supreme, Abraxon calls within my mind. We must protect her club, not the street.
Abraxon is right, but seeing my fellow witches battle the hunters only urges me to stay.
More witches drop down, lifeless, but not without a hunter in return. I move straight into the huddle of the fight. The ground rumbles, shaking as a vicious qauke races beneath my feet. Elder Jane is up ahead, her crown of gray hair flying within the wind. Her sights are focused on Will’s father.
He raises a gleaming silver sword, one that belonged in the divine books of warrior angels. It almost glows with flame. Its hilt is made from a twist of white gold and brass. It swings down toward Elder Jane, who raises the earth before her to block it. As the sword connects with the slab of stone, a blast echoes off of it.
Elder Jane is knocked off her feet, landing a long distance away near startled witches. My feet carry me until I hover above her. I know she cannot see me, but I must help.
Suddenly, the war pauses as another sound explodes around us.
Howls.
I clutch at my chest as the sad chorus of wolves deafen me. Deep in my very heart, I can feel the pure emotion that laces their grief-stricken cries. I swear, among them, I hear the shriek from Savi’s very own lungs.
“The alpha is dead!” Will’s father shouts, thrusting the point of his sword into the sky. Up ahead, a bolt of white lightning cuts across the dark clouds. A rumble of thunder sounds only seconds later.
It can’t be. The alpha can’t be dead…
It is true. You felt the emotion as much as I did.
Elder Jane is still splayed across the ground, her aged body struggling to stand. Before the leader of the hunters can make his way to her, she raises her eyes and looks straight through me. No, she looks straight at me.
Her mouth opens slightly. “Georgie, help me.”
Georgie.
She has never used it when speaking to me.
Only one person in my life had ever used that name.
It cannot be…
Elder Jane’s eyes drop from mine, and she looks behind me. Still in my phantom form, I follow her gaze to see Will’s father hold his sword of power in both hands, and he raises it like a hammer.
Time slows as he swings the heavenly blade down. I turn back to Elder Jane and can see the smile that twists her lips up. She doesn’t fight back. The metal winks with light as it careens down toward her. Instantly, I raise my arm to block it, knowing it will pass straight through me and slice into her.
“Father?” I ask. “How?”
Time doesn’t give me a moment to gain an answer. Not as the tip of the sword slices into the shadowy skin of my arm. I open my mouth as the pain burns through my mind. The dark screams in response. Abraxon explodes out of my cut arm instead of blood. As a mass of dark shadow, he slams into the hunter and throws him into the nightly air.
My eyes close as Elder Jane reaches a hand for me. Her fingers brush across my cheek. I blink my eyes open, and I am moving. I’m floating through the air away from her as my body is carried away by Abraxon. No one else notices since I am still one with the shadows. But Elder Jane can see me.
No, that is not Elder Jane.
Only one person calls me Georgie.
In and out, I fall from consciousness.
The sword cut me, but it should not have been able to do that.
I close my eyes again.
When I open them, I am on the floor in the club, and the supreme is leaning over me. I know I am no longer a shadow, but that’s not what alarms me. I no longer feel Abraxon’s presence. No longer am I one with the shadows as my arm leaks blood onto the floor. It’s red ruby and spills like a waterfall.
“Help…” I manage to ask the supreme, whose hungry eyes cannot stop looking at my arm. “Please.” I can still hear the war beyond the club.
“Poor boy,” the supreme whispers, kneeling beside me and pressing her nailed hand onto the cut to stop the bleeding. “I can help you, but that will mean you owe me something else.”
“Please…” I can only manage to beg.
“So be it.”
She lifts her hand to her mouth. Pink and plump, her tongue snakes out. She licks up her palm, taking my blood within her mouth. As the supreme drinks my blood, her eyes roll into the back of her head. I cannot tell if I feel sick from watching her or my loss of blood. When she fina
lly looks at me again, her eyes are narrowed. Anger boils beneath her skin.
“You helped her,” she says. “You helped kill my vampires. And since your mother is dead, her punishment will be paid with your death. Luckily for you, I am not ready for that to happen yet. Oh no, the fun is only beginning.”
It takes a moment for the jumbled words I hear to make sense. She drank my blood, and with it, she saw my memories. The supreme invaded my past and found what she had wanted to know about Mother. My deepest secrets unveiled.
Abraxon, help me…
“Sleep, George, for when you wake, you will be in hell,” the supreme purrs, pushing two fingers into my wound until the pain is so intense, I give into the darkness yet again.
The next spellbinding installment in the Hillcrest Supernaturals series..
