'Oh, that is rank!' said Dawn.
We were still taking Spells from our right, our enemy sounding as though they were all men, calling each other for back up. I could hear the panic in their voices.
They'd clearly expected to incinerate us where we sat in the now-burning Porsche. Cowards rarely look forward to a proper fight, and they were probably shitting themselves.
‘Target down.' She sounded terrified. Voice trembling. But she was getting the job done, and her drills were top notch. The first two weeks she'd been with me had been spent training with former members of the special forces – the Seelies - and other such experts.
Fireballs were still coming from our right and rear. To our front was a wide-open field. Not a good place to try and take cover. Especially when our burning car was doing a fabulous job of giving us away.
'Cut left. We'll head behind the car and go for the bastards on the other side.' When being ambushed there was only one response. Fight through.
We couldn't run, which they would expect us to do because they were amateurs and men who thought they were fighting women. Men like this, criminals, always tended to underestimate women even in the Magical community. Even when one of those women was me.
I was a fucking legend in the Magical community of Devon. I'd caught, crippled, or killed more Marks than any other Agent in the South West, but because I was a woman, they thought they could take me on. Pricks.
I Cast a Shadow Globe. Did what it said on the tin. It was a globe of darkness that was utterly impenetrable. Only a few feet across, it would completely hide us for the vital seconds we needed.
Shield raised, this time with Dawn's pistol pointing forward, we shuffled into the darkness, moving as quickly as possible. The heat from the burning car was intense to the point of pain. I altered our direction slightly without thought, bringing us out further to the right than I planned.
‘Shit!' Gasped another of Pete’s accomplices as we exited the globe. Dawn's pistol barked twice. Blood and cloth puffed from the chest of his dirty hoodie, and he coughed with the impact, taking a little step backward, more from surprise than from the impact.
In real life, bullets punch into and through flesh with ease but don't blast people from their feet. That's what Spells are for.
For a second, he stood, eyes wide, mouth open. 'A gun? Who the fuck uses a gun?' He clasped a hand to his breast, then slowly toppled backwards, head bouncing off the tarmac. It was one of the most dramatic deaths I'd seen outside of the cinema. It would have earned either an Oscar or a big laugh in the cinema.
‘Dick,' muttered Dawn, patting me on the shoulder, signalling that I should continue to move forward. So far, we'd killed three of Stinky Pete's mates. Whilst they were pretty tasty in an unfair fight, their strength really came from being backstabbing bastards. Pete, on the other hand, was different altogether.
'Three down, reckon there's two more to go.' Famous last words.
Another of Pete’s gang came barrelling out of the darkness, Changing into his rat-man form. If I thought he stank before, his rat-man form stank to high heaven. Bad enough to kill flies, not attract them. He was a huge, six-foot long rat with incisors the size of my forearm. This was going to be a bugger of a fight if I didn't finish it quickly.
'No silver,' said Dawn, it didn't stop her from unloading the entire contents of her magazine into him. The bullets might not have been able to injure him but, by God, they could certainly hurt him.
I Shifted into my tiger form before I could think. The sight of a giant rat completely over-rode my forebrain. That I was a tiger Shapeshifter was not a fact many people knew. Most who did know were dead. The others were in no position to spread the details.
The Wererat squeaked in fear, the rank smell of urine filling the air. Like his accomplices, he'd expected an easy kill. Now, he was faced with a very pissed-off tiger that outclassed and outweighed him. He was dead, and we both knew it.
Launching myself through the air, I gave him one last chance to shriek in fear before slamming into his chest. Ribs broke under the power of my paws, and hot blood spurted into my mouth as I clamped my jaws around his throat. I made the kill quick, shaking my head vigorously from side-to-side, ripping half of his neck free. The taste of his fur made my gorge rise, forcing me to drop his corpse to the floor with a cough as if I was hacking up a fur ball.
'For fuck's sake!' shrieked Dawn. Looking back at her whilst I gulped the flesh down, I saw that she'd been covered in the arterial spray. I huffed a laugh, receiving a finger in response. 'We need to find Stinky Pete,' she said as she wiped the dripping blood from her face.
I realised then the stench filling my nose wasn't all coming from my victim. Too late, I tried to twist toward the source. Pain exploded in my side as what felt like a hammer slammed into my ribs. I was certain they were broken.
Screaming, I twisted and lashed out with a paw. I hit my attacker, sending them spinning away a few feet with a cry of anger, or pain, I wasn't sure as my broken ribs were making it hard to concentrate.
'It's that wanker Pete!' He's got lumps and bumps all over his skin. Looks like a Troll!' yelled Dawn. She'd reloaded and was firing her pistol, aiming before each shot, buying me time to recover from Pete's sneak attack.
I Shifted again, moving into a more humanoid form. It would allow me to reach higher than if on all fours, and I could use my Icons far better that way. It also looked utterly badass.
'Shit!' Dawn stopped firing. A glance over my shoulder showed she was frantically trying to reload.
'My turn!' Pete's voice was deeper, gruffer, sounding as though it was coming from the very earth.
I grabbed an Icon I rarely use, True Sight, and gasped as I saw what he had truly become. He's only Channelled a bloody rock spirit into himself, I thought, ice water running through my veins. It wasn't any wonder Dawn's shots hadn't had an effect. Most of them would have been bouncing off his skin.
This was a level of Magic I had not expected from him. I knew he was a Were, but not that he also had the ability to Channel a Rock Spirit. Someone powerful must have given him an Icon. There was fuck-all chance that he'd done this himself.
He threw a massive, three-fingered swing at me. If I'd tried to block it, my arm would have been pulverised. So, I ducked, dodged, dived, and ducked again. His attacks were slow and clumsy, but any one of them would have ended the fight had they connected. Fangs gritted, I tried to hide the pain I was in. Tried to ignore the grating of broken ribs on broken ribs.
Six seconds into the fight and tears were streaming down my face, and I was finding it harder to breathe. Every so often, Dawn would take a shot and the bullet would spang off his toughened skin.
I skipped a couple of steps back as he launched a haymaker, forcing him to come after me. The ground shook with every step he took, and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to throw him, which closed several avenues I'd been thinking about.
The fire from the car glinted off his eyes, and I could see they were totally black, a true sign of possession if ever I'd seen one. His eyes.
My heart leapt as I realised what I needed to do. Then it sank as I realised what I needed to do. In order to blind him, to drive my claws through his eye sockets and into his brain, I'd need to get into very close range. Close enough to hug, to kiss, to be squeezed to death by those massive arms.
I could try to just slash his eyes, but that wouldn't end the fight necessarily, and it wouldn't end the threat that Pete presented. He was known to bear a grudge, and there were many ways in our world that a supposedly blind person could still manage to hunt down and kill their sworn enemies.
It was then that my ears picked up a sound that others would be oblivious to, their hearing too dull. It was the keening of a siren. Emergency services were on their way. I needed to finish this, and I needed to finish it now.
'Sticks, Dawn!' There was a pause before she obeyed, holstering her pistol, then drawing her sticks. He might have Channelled a Rock Sp
irit, but he was still a Were at heart, and her silver-tipped sticks were going to hurt him a lot more than her bullets, whilst the iron also present would hurt the Fae that he was part of.
He laughed as she twirled them, moving through a double redonda just to get her shoulders warmed up. Think of the opening scene in Blade, where the Vampyre with sticks launches an impressive but utterly shit attack. Clearly, he wasn’t impressed.
Then she moved into the attack, launching strike after strike, hitting every part of his body as quickly and powerfully as she could. She not only used the sticks, but also her feet, kicking out at his knees and shins whilst hitting high. And then she sped up. She was hitting far faster than a normal person could and was getting faster.
She’s been teaching herself some tricks, I thought, making a mental note to have a firm word with her later.
It was bloody amazing, and I could see that the silver and iron was causing him pain. Serious pain. Pete was just as taken by surprise as I was.
His hands rose, instinctively trying to protect his face, a primeval response as she smashed her sticks into it. That was all I needed. In three large steps, I was in front of him, Dawn swiftly moving out of the way. As his hands dropped, I drove my thumb claws forward, gouging for his eyes.
One thumb sank deep, and he screamed. It was a high-pitched wailing shriek I knew I would never forget if I survived the next few seconds. He reacted instinctively again, this time to my disadvantage as my other thumb jarred on his forearm as it blocked his face.
That was all he needed to save his eye, my claws skittering over his toughened skin. There was nothing to get a grip on, and it left me off-balance and open to attack.
Still screaming, he grasped ahold of my arms, pulled the thumb I'd rammed into his eye out, and threw me into the air. God knows how far I flew, but I knew that it was a decidedly unhealthy distance as it took far too long for me to land.
And then land I did, with none of the grace of a cat, but all of the grace of a pissed-up brick that had bungeed off a bridge without the bungee. All the air in my body whoofed out. Everything went red, and I could hear Dawn cursing Pete as pain flooded my system.
I'd both felt and heard bones break when I landed, and they were now sending damage reports, each one screaming that I listen to it first. It was so bad that I puked which, of course, sent even more pain racing through my body.
As darkness started to fall over me, I heard him roaring something, a threat, a boss, and how we'd never see them coming. Apt, as I then fell unconscious.
Cold, so cold, I thought as I drifted back to consciousness. The ground was softer beneath me but felt as though it was moving, and my legs were tucked up uncomfortably. Brain still fogged, I finally remembered the last thing I'd seen before I'd blacked out, and that was Dawn
'Dawn!' I bolted upright, my ribs immediately screaming in pain and stars exploding in my head as it crunched into something very solid above me. The pain was so bad that I could only sob, and even that hurt.
In the end, I would sob, gasp, try to draw breath, then sob again. Rinse and repeat. It was fucking awful. And it didn't help that I was crushed up in such a small space. The pain was so bad I couldn't even work out where I was.
'I'm here, babes. It's alright. Pete's gone, ran off as the fire brigade stared to arrive. I nicked his car and got you out of there. You might want to Shift back, though.'
She was right. I was still part tiger, which meant that I wasn't going to heal as well as if I was in my natural form. That was the one disadvantage Shapeshifters had. Our natural form was human, whereas Weres' natural forms were whatever animal they changed into. That meant they were incredibly tough whilst Changed, and could heal a lot quicker, whereas whilst we were a lot tougher than normal once Shifted, we healed far better when we were in human form.
Shifting hurt. Everything hurt. In partial tiger form, I was nearly seven feet tall. My human form was a nice five foot six. As everything shifted downwards I realised just how badly injured my ribs were. The world turned red, and I vomited.
I tried finding the Icon I'd crafted for Healing, but it was gone. Head spinning, I tried to Cast a quick Healing spell but couldn't remember the words. I was in my own personal hell and more than happy to let Dawn know just how bad I felt.
'I know, babes, I know,' said Dawn as I screamed, moaned and cried after Shifting. 'We're nearly back in Crediton. I'll get you to the Hag as soon as I can.'
The Hag was an actual Hag. Crooked back, warts, hairy moles, and one eye larger than the other. She also had a heart of gold and baked the best cookies ever. It always saddened me that she had to keep up a constant Glamour just to blend in. She was a truly beautiful spirit in a world obsessed with external beauty, and I loved her for that very reason.
'Please, just get me there fast,' I gasped. There were times I'd been badly injured before, but the way my chest felt, I was certain my lung was collapsing. I could hear a funny crackling every time I tried to draw a breath, and I felt the pain there getting worse each time. I coughed, and a spray of blood followed. Dawn didn't answer, just shifted down gears, and stamped on the accelerator.
'My, oh my, you poor dear. Bring her in, Dawn, bring her in.' Mrs. Beaton opened her door wide, taking hold of me as soon as I entered her home, whilst Dawn still held onto me. Despite her crooked back, she was as strong as an ox, and I had no doubt she could have easily swept me off my feet and carried me. Thankfully, she didn't. I was certain it would have killed me.
I didn't have a clue how I next found myself in her parlour whilst she cast several Spells and made me drink something that tasted of mead but made me see lime green Gremlins tap dancing on the ceiling whilst little cars with wings flew about them.
It was truly epic and—even better—the pain seemed to fade into the background. It was still there, but I really didn't care at that moment in time. Whereas before, I'd been in my own personal hell, I was well and truly in heaven. Even if the gremlins did look like they wanted to eat me sometimes.
The next time I was truly conscious, I was sat up in the softest bed I'd ever slept in, in a bedroom that was entirely pink. A tray had been placed on my lap and had the largest full English I'd ever seen. Thankfully, I was utterly ravenous.
Dawn was sat next to me, helping herself to some brown bread and homemade marmalade. We were in foodie heaven.
'Fanks,' I said as I chewed on a sausage and tried to stuff in some black pudding. 'I owe you.'
'Pffffft,' said Dawn, her mouth equally full, 'youdadonevasam.' She grinned deliberately showing just how full mouth was. I truly envied whatever man managed to convince her to love him.
Swallowing hard, chasing it down with a slurp of black coffee, I frowned at her. ‘You moved too quickly.’ I said, keeping my tone neutral.
'I know,' she looked down, chastened, 'I shouldn't have been practicing without you. But it just happened, then I kept trying to see how fast I could move.'
'You could have killed yourself and anyone nearby you know,' she nodded, jerkily, 'Still, no harm done, and you did save my bloody life.'
'Barely,' she whispered. 'You died last night. Heart failure. Mrs. Beaston worked her arse off getting you back. She even used Dave.'
'Shit.' Dave was her familiar. If she had to tap that piece of four-legged evil for help, then things really were bad.
'She asked if we could go down and have a word with her once you feel up to it. Said you had to clear your plate.'
Looking at the remaining eight sausages, multiple slices of bacon, chips, black pudding, and other sundries, I was surprised that my stomach rumbled. Oh, life can be cruel, I thought as I tucked in with gusto.
Once we'd thanked Mrs. Beaston for her hospitality, paid her, and listened to all her instructions about how careful I needed to be over the next few hours, we walked over to our beloved home. We'd left Pete's car as part payment.
Apparently, she had a nephew who would appreciate having a new car for banger-racing. Although looking at i
t, I wasn't that sure whether he'd get much mileage out it. It looked like it had already done a few laps against rabid rhinos.
Getting closer to our house, I slowed, spotting several cars strategically situated along the street. Each one had at least two people in it, and they were all studiously trying to not look out of place.
Crediton's a busy place pretty much any time of the day, and they'd have done much better if they'd got out of the cars and just walked up and down High Street as if they were shopping.
In fact, there probably were some doing that. Which meant that this bunch had wanted to be seen. I switched on my Sight, taking a quick and careful 360-degree scan whilst pretending to embrace life like the women in Tena adverts.
Never, not once, have I ever wanted to spin around with my arms out whilst on my period. Still, pretending that I did meant I was able to spot another three in the near vicinity. I was impressed, if I could see three, that meant there were probably at least two more teams waiting to be rotated onto shift.
'Situation red,' I murmured to Dawn, who didn't have the benefit of the Sight yet. These things took time, and I'd decided that I'd concentrate on her natural skills.
'Seen already, at least three,' she said. Natural street-smarts, she had it in spades. She nodded and drifted slightly away from me, hand reaching into her pocket.
'No pistols, love. We'd have the real police down on us quicker than lightning and Charming the minds of all these people would be an absolute nightmare. Let's see what they want. We'll take the front door,' I said as lightly as I could. Events over the last few hours had me more than slightly tense. The proverbial saying, ‘arse so tight, if you shoved coal up, you'd get a diamond,’ sprang to mind.
As we passed one of the cars, I rapped my knuckles on the roof, hard. Tat, tat, tat-tat tat. The passenger jumped, spilling what looked like exceedingly hot coffee over her lap. Despite expecting us at some point, they were twitchier than a bunch of new recruits facing their first full-contact fight with an Ogre. Never a good sign.
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