Red took a bracing breath and propped her hand on her hunter’s kit. Habit moved her to touch her revolver. She grabbed the crystal instead. It connected her to the real weapon under her feet. Tonight, she brought together both sides of herself—hunter and witch.
Paws thumping on the ground, a large gray werewolf loped into the crib house. His missing ear marked him as Frank. The shaggy bulk seemed too large to be allowed, more than double the size of a regular wolf.
Nuno burst inside with Gloria over his shoulder. His foot nearly slipped into the crater in the front room. He righted himself with a snarl.
“Stop!” Gloria hissed, bravado overriding pain, as she slipped down from her brother to stand on her own feet. Blood gushed from her leg wound. Pain thickened her Boston accent. “You’re in wicked deep trouble now.”
“Not see the vampire here?” Lucas pointed at himself.
Red stared straight through the female, mind’s eye full of the uncut crystals glowing with energy in the spider filled cellar below. The selenite in her hands warmed. She stoked the magic like a blacksmith tending a forge. Hannah’s power had weakened, but the embers still joined the war effort. It would be more than enough to fuel the trap.
The big wolf stalked slowly on the scuffed trail of forgotten miners.
“That’s it, Frank. Come on, boy.” Lucas beckoned, slapping his thigh like his was calling a dog. The mockery in his voice hardened into a grim resolution. “This was always our fight. Got sent a vision. You die.”
Nuno lowered his head. He screamed like a berserker, fingers transforming into sharp paws. He bolted ahead of the wolf.
Glancing determinedly at her father, Gloria gritted her teeth, hobbling at a jerky run after her brother. “Wait up!”
Red clenched her fists, gathering her magic, readying the wolf trap to ignite.
Fists up, Lucas met Nuno with an uppercut to his wounded cheek. He grunted when Gloria punched his side. “You weren’t tagged in, love.”
Snout snorting in canine annoyance, Frank bounded forward.
Red smiled and yanked her hands up, calling the wolf trap up. Translucent thorny vines jutted up like shrubbery doused with magical Miracle-Gro. It rose in a circle to enclose the fight between Lucas, Gloria, and Nuno.
Frank snapped away from the barrier at the last moment, dodging to the side. Snarling at Red, flat predator eyes pierced her from the other side of the circle. He didn’t look at his convulsing children.
Red dropped the selenite to crash to the floor like her hopes. She hadn’t caught them all.
Lucas shoved Nuno away to step out of the trap, free to do so as a vampire. He smirked at Frank, hands in his pockets as he strolled forward. “I’d barter the lives of your children, but I’ve seen how much they’re worth to you.”
The walls shook, and an unearthly wail rushed through the room like a burst of wind. Spectral emerald mist glowered over the room. The bed frame jerked forward to railroad into Lucas.
Jaws grinning, the wolf leapt for Lucas’s throat.
A plank wrenched away from a window. Swinging, it hit both Lucas and Frank.
“Chill out!” Red waved her hands, shouting to the ghost.
A brick struck Lucas in the head. Rusty cans rained down on the supernaturals, spewing out of the break in the floorboards.
Slamming against a boarded-up window, Frank burst out into the desert.
Lucas flailed his arms against the flying debris. His every step was blocked by the phantom onslaught.
Red tried to keep her focus on the wolf trap.
Gloria coughed, rolling over. Blood dribbled from the side of her mouth, coating her teeth, her red smile stretched wide. “Big mistake, witch. Should have caught my daddy.”
“Wolf up, sis.” Prone on the floor, Nuno chortled, a wet phlegmy sound. He flopped over on his chest, spine contorting, back skin peeling apart like rippling fault line under his windbreaker. The smell of fresh meat hit the dusty air.
Even the ghost stilled her attack on Lucas at the godawful squish of human skin flipping to wolf. Thankfully hidden by clothes. Four legs kicked out of the loose pants and shoes. The wolf shook his pelt. Snout marred by the old wolfsbane wound, Nuno howled to the moon. Shifting form beside him, Gloria answered the battle cry.
Soul-curdling screams ripped through the ghost town.
Chapter Twenty
Concentration fraying, bile churned in her throat while frustrated tears stung her eyes. Her hands trembled. Red told herself not to move. She had to keep the spell up. If Frank escaped, then they needed his kids for leverage and intel. The two younger wolves waited, teeth bared, for her to drop the mystical cage inside the old bordello. Unbidden tears streaked like hot failure down her face. She couldn’t see what caused the screams, but her mind filled the gap with terrible visuals.
“Lashawn.” Lucas gritted his jaw, leaping over a skidding fridge, running to the window where Frank had escaped.
“Hold on, little bro!” Vic called out, rushing through the brush outside the building.
“Go!” Red yelled to Lucas.
He disappeared out the broken window, a nervous glance over his shoulder at the two wolves circling in their pen, feeling out the edges.
She shook from the effort of staying at her post. Hannah’s magic surged though the wolf trap like a plead for Red to go. She sprinted forward, more out of desperation than trust in the teen. It was time for their Hero to step up anyway. She skirted around the trapped wolves. As she tore out of the brothel, her racing feet sprayed rocky soil.
Frank dragged Lashawn screaming and kicking over the brush, away from the town, razor teeth locked on his right arm. The agile yet bulky wolf zagged, tossing the grown man around like braided rope.
Lucas launched himself at the wolf, landing in the dirt as he zigged away.
Cursing, Vic aimed a revolver, trying to get a bead on the wolf.
“Help!” Lashawn punched the unrelenting snout. Bite marks on his legs and chest had turned the blue of his denim outfit black.
Red lifted her palms and channeled her magic through the nearest levitation grid. She released the floodgates to lift something more resistant than a dagger. The manipulated air molecules curled around Frank’s snout.
His suddenly locked jaw snapped up and out of its hold on Lashawn’s arm, and he yelped. Airborne in a jerk, he flew into a thicket of tumble weeds and sped away.
Lucas gave chase.
Vic darted to Lashawn, falling to his knees.
Red stooped to pick up Lashawn’s spectacles from the dirt as she ran to the Constantine brothers. She shoved them into her pocket. Heart pounding, she crouched beside Vic.
Eyes screwed up to slits, Vic grimaced as he pressed his hand on the bleeding bite on his little brother’s arm. He pressed the other to a chest wound. There were too many bites and he had too few hands. “Goddammit!”
Red twisted to lean on her knee, facing Vic. “We need to get him in the RV.”
“Hold on, Lashawn!”
“Listen to me. This is bad.” Exhaling harshly through his nose, Lashawn’s grey-blue eyes rolled in his head. He lifted his good arm, bloody fingers groping for Vic’s cheek. Pulling his brother closer, words pulsing out of straining lungs, he spoke. “Listen! Whatever happens. Don’t become dad.”
“You’re not going to die!” Ashen faced, Vic slipped his arm under the other man’s back and hoisted him up.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Lashawn groaned, clutching his side.
The brilliant lights of the motorhome swooped over them as the vehicle trundled to a stop. Hannah sat in the passenger’s seat, eyes closed in concentration. At the steering wheel, Ezra waved and stuck his head out. “The seedling is almost ready.”
Red and Vic hobbled to the camper with Lashawn moaning between them. Vic half carried his brother up the side steps to rest him on the sofa. She trotted up behind him.
“Get the first aid kit!” Vic barked out.
“This is
bringing me back to childhood,” Ezra muttered, trudging to the kit on the counter, and started tending to Lashawn.
“I can’t hold the trap much longer, Red,” Hannah confessed, her knuckles white on her knees. “I used too much when I watered the portal.”
“Is it ready?” Vic snapped.
“It’s big and juiced up!” Frazzled, Hannah shrugged. “Stable? I don’t know.”
“We’re going now, right?” Ezra asked, spraying a silver potion that made Lashawn hiss in pain when it touched his wounds.
“I’ll go back to the wolf trap.” Red put her hand on Vic’s shoulder. “Go to the academy with them. I’ll finish Frank with Lucas.”
A terrible darkness came over Vic’s profile as he stared down at his brother. His fists clenched until the knuckles popped. He bolted down the camper stairs.
Red cursed, dashing after her friend. The ugly shadow on his face had scared the shit out of her. She whipped her magic out ahead of her to buffer the wolf trap.
Vic slid on his heels in the dirt as he scooped up his fallen revolver. Arms pumping, he sped into the bordello.
Heart sinking, she knew what he was going to do. It had to happen, but it didn’t need to be him. Not like this. Red rushed through the doorsill and through the front room. She was too late.
The gun blasts shook the wooden crib house. Vic emptied the barrel.
It wasn’t a hunt. It was an execution.
Shoulders shaking, Vic wiped his mouth with his wrist, then shoved the smoking gun into his belt holster.
Mystical vines, glowing to her third eye, sturdy as cage bars, surrounded the wolves. The larger one shielded the smaller. Four legs sprawled out, the two lay nestled together in death. Blood streaked their gray fur. Corpses twitching, the limbs elongated as the snouts shrunk. Fur rippling, it furled up over stiffening muscles.
Red gagged, turning her head as the skin flipped over. She covered her eyes, releasing her hold on the wolf trap. They didn’t need it now.
Human looking again, the dead siblings curled around each other. The Lopeses were fragile in their nude stillness. A lone howl echoed from the horizon. Faraway coyotes yipped in sympathy.
“You did what you’ve done.” Red couldn’t stand to look at the bodies. This was why she hated werewolf hunts. Nuno and Gloria looked like regular people in death. “Now go to your brother.”
“I need to find fuckin’ Frank!” Vic didn’t turn to face her, arms stiff.
Red marched up to him. “You need to be with Lashawn.”
Vic glared at her through wet, ferocious eyes. His jaw tightened. “That bastard might have turned my brother into one of them.”
“Killing Frank won’t stop that. Taking Lashawn to the Immortal Alchemist might,” Red said. “He’ll never forgive you if you don’t go to the hospital with him. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t and the worst happens.”
Vic ground his teeth. Haunted seconds stretched in the silent standoff.
A luxury vehicle purred as wheels crunched the dirt outside. The engine shut off. Kristoff leisurely called out, “Did I miss the wolf hunt?”
Relieved to unexpectedly hear Kristoff, Red didn’t break eye contact with Vic. She tried to sound firm, but it came out a plea. “Two vampires and a witch. We’ll find him.”
Vic snorted like a bull, stomping past. He tossed her the keys to the Millennium Falcon. His lips curled over his canines. “I’m back once Lashawn is stabilized.”
“Good enough.”
The dead watched as they left the bordello.
Vic ripped open the camper door, marching inside. “I’m driving!”
Kristoff leaned by his all-terrain SUV, still shiny as if this were the first time the vehicle had left the highway. His wary gaze studied the brothel. “There’s more than the newly deceased in there.”
“How did you get here so quickly after sunset?” After all she had seen tonight, she could only manage a wan smile. “Thought you were busy with your nightclub opening?”
“I’m a workaholic with a private plane, remember. Defending my claimed human is part of the job. So is helping a friend. You’re both.” Kristoff’s grin faded to a grim line. “Where is the last wolf?”
“Escaped. Lucas is chasing him, somewhere.” Red shivered, looking to the dark horizon. Her body sagged from grief as much as all the magic use. Kristoff’s blood had given her a boost, but the effects were waning. She needed to clear the field of innocents so she could focus on how to save this shitstorm of a hunt. “It’s just going to be us three going after him.”
The creaking motorhome turned around like a lumbering giant. Glowing like a galaxy behind it, the ethereal portal seedling had grown to a mighty banyan, engulfing the dead tree in a translucent starry trunk. Its canopy hung higher than the decaying buildings.
Kristoff snapped his head toward the main street. “Someone is coming.”
“He’s here.” Red pointed at the loping wolf coming in from the desert in the opposite direction, Lucas chasing after in a flutter of leather.
Growling, Kristoff slung off his suit jacket onto the SUV hood and charged for the wolf.
Swift like a pup, Frank darted in the opposite direction to loop around the bordello toward the back of the butcher shop.
Waving her arms and running at the RV, she yelled at Vic frozen behind the wheel. “Go!”
Ezra hung out the side door of the vehicle. “It’s not ready yet!”
“Think really hard about the academy then! Hannah has a key!”
“Look out!”
Red dug her hand into her hunter’s kit for were-mace. She spun into a crouch, spraying the stinging liquid.
The wolf leaped over her head, paws centimeters away from the acid stream. Sand kicked up in his wake. He disappeared into the desert. Two dark clothed blurs chased after him. Lucas lagged after his progeny.
Red’s throat tightened. She knew what Frank was doing. He was trying to wear out the vampires. It was working. Vampires had super strength, speed, and healing fueled by their finite blood supply. Wounded and coming off an entire day awake without feeding, Lucas was burning through his blood power.
Brilliant concentric circles of blue and purple spouted off the glowing sigils carved into the dead tree. The spirit branches of the banyan stretched out beyond the swirling portal like a flailing man. Aerial roots sprouted and slammed into the soil. The motorhome lurched toward the portal.
Red relaxed her shoulders. Frank was on the loose, but at least she didn’t need to worry about her friends.
Mighty gusts blew out of the portal, beating against the ruins. Pebbles pinged against the wood. Lights flooded behind Red from the main street, casting her legs into long shadows. Tensing, she looked behind her, hands shielding her eyes. Her night vision was trashed by the high beams.
A small sedan wove through the wind-revealed tire traps with the precision of a stuntman. Parking in front of the butcher shop, the driver stepped out. Riotous curls flared from a high ponytail. A golden poker chip draped on a chain around her neck. Portal glare clouded her spectacles.
Red opened her mouth to greet Trudy, but her voice was stolen by the blinding sight of the Winnebago disappearing into the portal. A supernova surged up through the spirit banyan before it dissolved into shimmers, leaving the dead tree behind, dormant until the next traveler presented an academy key.
Smiling, Red waved. “I’ll explain after we get Frank.”
Trudy stepped away from the car, grimoire floating above her hand. “Who’s still here?”
“Me and two vampire friends,” Red said, coming closer. “You met Lucas. He’s somewhere.”
Murky light streamed out of the grimoire. Crystals and bones shot out of the car like swarming bats to fall in a circle around Trudy. Each landed in a neat thump. Shadows materialized over the witch, the mass unfurling in a rolling wave. Cramped in the Ranking Court, the hungry arms spread over the ghost town like a giant squid ready to feed. A jet beak snapped amid the shad
es. The penumbra misted over the Bard like fog.
“Do you see the wolf?” Red turned her head. A tentacle slapped over her wrist. She cried out, wordlessly like a confused animal, wrenching away from the pain. “What the hell are you doing?”
Trudy lifted her hand like a conductor. The unemotional tone didn’t blunt the meaning. “My orders.”
Mouth drying, Red gaped at the Bard. There was no doubt who she served. Or what she was willing to sacrifice. Skittering to hide behind the false front of the half-standing saloon, Red examined the round burns on her pale skin. “A Brotherhood burn notice. Are you shitting me?”
“You were deemed a threat.”
A dark feeler groped for Red in her hiding place. She darted from the saloon to the brick wall of the mine office, passing the last dagger laying in the center of a crystal triangle. “I haven’t done anything! You can’t just murder me.”
“I don’t relish every duty.” The hard tone brokered no excuse for herself.
Red rolled into a somersault away from the shadow’s reach. Thunder cracked within it, energic like a pet finally off its leash. She dashed into the street. “You’re supposed to be a Hero, not a killer. Murder isn’t what the Brotherhood does.”
“What do you think you did for those hunter bounties?”
The question felt like a slap. Shaking her head, Red stepped back, speechless. She wasn’t a killer.
“We discussed this.” The Bard reprimanded her from the circle of bones by the Prius. “Banter is for the desperate.”
“Sometimes it’s just fun, love.” Lucas dropped out of a sprint, emerging from the desert with Kristoff beside him.
The vapor leviathan swung a colossal flipper, flinging the vampires back to land in the dirt in front of the SUV. Smoky arms crushed the hood as if proving a point. The sudden pressure popped the wheels.
“Bloody hell!” Lucas strained to rise to his knees.
Limbs sluggishly standing, Kristoff flashed his fangs at Trudy. “What are you?”
Witch On The Run: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 4) Page 29
