by Amy Star
“Enough!” Vincent’s booming voice made both of them cease their bickering and look at him. Finn slapped Conner on the back of the head as Vincent crouched down, taking his knife off his belt. “Get the cheese grater, Conner.”
“So basically, I’m fucked.” Jillian nodded, pressing her lips together.
“Finn doesn’t put a whole lot of faith in my grandmother’s recipes. Still, he could have approached the topic with a sliver of tact.” Vincent glared at Finn.
“I don’t think it’s right to bullshit someone when it’s their life on the line,” Finn muttered.
“Right.” Conner rolled his eyes. “Because it’s so much better to scare the shit out of her for no reason.”
“It’s okay.” Jillian’s voice cracked. “After everything I’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours, I’ll do it if only to make sure my dick-head ex rots in jail for attempted murder.”
“Revenge is as good a motivator as anything.” Vincent's eyes squinted as he smiled, touching her cheek. “You’re tough as all hell, and I don’t doubt that you have it in you.”
The three men worked together, making a paste from the lime juice and dry ingredients. Combining the mixture with the shredded potato, Vincent put a glob of the mixture onto a clean cloth and pressed it to the bite. Jillian screamed at his touch, snapping upright so fast that Conner had to push her down and hold her still while Vince wrapped the bandage.
“God, she’s burning up.” Conner’s eyes widened as he looked to Vincent.
“Keep a hold of her.” Vincent patted Conner on the shoulder and looked at Finn. “Cold water and a clean washcloth.”
Finn nodded and headed outside. Jillian’s teeth chattered as she trembled in Conner’s arms.
“You’re okay.” He brushed her hair back as she looked up at him through half-closed lids.
“It hurts,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, I know. Believe me.” He smiled. “When I got bit last year, I didn’t die, but when I was going through the worst of it, I remember wishing I would.”
“You know what?” Jillian’s shallow breaths became more labored as she reached up and touched his chin. “If we had kids, their eyes would be so blue.”
Great. She’s delirious. Conner frowned, wondering where the hell Finn was with that water. That was when it dawned on him. Kids!
“Hey.” He looked at Vince, who was tucking the end of the bandage into itself. “If she’s the vessel from the prophecy, wouldn’t that make her one of us?”
“No,” Vincent whispered, “if she were a shifter, she would have known by now, and she definitely wouldn’t have let that guy rough her up like he did.”
“Then why do you think she’s the one?” Conner’s brow furrowed. “What exactly did the oracle say she saw?”
“Grandmother said that a girl with golden hair would rise from the river wearing a crown of roses. She said that her womb glowed with the life-giving energy of the sun.” He took a deep breath, reciting the story he’d heard a thousand times. “Three bears would save her life, and through her love and power, she would be the one to revive our kind and mend the Rift that separated Earth from the Great Spirit.”
“Crown of roses?” Conner looked down at her.
“When I saw her walking through the trees last night.” Vincent stood up and looked out the window. “The moonlight hit the blood in her hair. I swear it looked like…”
“Roses,” the whisper of a smile appeared at the corner of Conner’s lips as he pictured her.
“Maybe it was just my mind processing an old story and then seeing what I wanted to see. But I swear I felt instantly drawn to her.” Vincent touched a lock of her hair. “Even before you told me about her jumping into the river.”
“So, what about the rest of it? There are three of us. We’re supposed to save her life.” Conner’s eyes ignited. “I know it wasn’t talking about scaring off her boyfriend or picking her up in the woods. You were the one that scared her and made her fall in the first place. This… this is what your prophecy was talking about; that means there’s a way for us to save her. If she was already a member of our den, what would you do?”
“I don’t know,” Vincent snapped. “It doesn’t matter because she’s not.”
“In the old times before the Rift,” Conner insisted. “What would the ancient ones have done?”
“They would have…” Vincent rubbed the back of his neck as he paced the length of the room. “They’d take her to the circle and perform the healing ritual.”
“Then, that’s the answer.” Conner’s posture straightened. “We have to go now!”
“It’s almost three miles away.” Finn appeared in the doorway with a bucket and came to kneel beside Conner.
“He’s got a point.” Vincent shook his head. “The spirits haven’t responded to our songs in over a century. Moving her might just put her in unnecessary pain.”
“It’s not unnecessary if it saves her life.” Conner’s eyes darted between his two den-mates. “Guys, come on. From what little bit you know about this girl, do you think she’d want to just lie down and die? I saw her fight back when that guy attacked her. She got bounced off the rocks for half a mile of rough rapids and walked out on her own two feet. I’m telling you, she’s a fighter.”
“When she got bit, even when I told her how bad it could get…” Finn took a step toward Vincent. “If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.”
“Am I hallucinating, or are you two agreeing on something for once?” Vincent crossed his arms, arching a scarred eyebrow.
Finn and Conner looked at each other and nodded in acknowledgment.
“Well, then I guess we’re doing this.”
CHAPTER THREE
After crafting a crude stretcher and securing their precious cargo, the three men picked up Jillian and headed through the woods. They took care to handle her as gently as possible, occasionally sharing anxious glances when she would scream or thrash against the straps holding her down. Stopping only to let her vomit over the side of the stretcher, they were all painfully aware that she was waning, and every passing second was working against them.
When they finally reached their destination, Jillian smiled at the sound of rushing water. Cool mist caressed her face, and she opened her eyes, gasping at the sight of a forty-foot waterfall surrounded by bright-green bushes dotted with white blossoms. Finn unfastened the straps and lifted the sheet off her leg.
“Jesus.” Conner looked away as Finn replaced the sheet.
“Let’s get you over there.” Finn’s voice was low as he forced a smile.
“No, let me see.” Jillian sat up and looked down at herself.
“We need to get you into the water,” Conner whispered.
“Fuck off.” She swatted Conner’s hand away. “Finn, let me see.”
Pressing his lips together, Finn pulled the sheet back, and Jillian’s eyes widened. The dark-purple discoloration around the bite had completely covered the bottom half of her leg, and it was spreading up to her thigh. She tilted her head and wiggled her foot.
“The swelling is so bad; I don’t think I could bend it if I wanted to.” She blinked tears from her eyes, unable to imagine a scenario where she would be able to keep her leg. “How much further is the ranger station?”
“We’re not going to the ranger station.” Finn frowned. “Listen, I know this is going to be hard to believe. But your best chance of surviving is going to be out there.” He pointed to a flat, circular, stone platform in the middle of the water.
“What are you talking about?” She tensed as tremors shot through her nerves. “Is this some freaky cult thing?”
“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense.” Finn stood up and paced to the edge of the water. “I wouldn’t have believed in this stuff, either.”
“Look, I’m a pretty open-minded person.” Jillian shuddered as a surge of pain shot up her inner thigh. “I think you guys should be allowed to pract
ice your religion without fear of persecution. But if this is some kind of faith-healing thing, it won’t work.”
“Why are you so sure?” Conner prodded.
“Because I don’t have any.” Jillian laid down her head. “I don’t believe in God or the Devil. I don’t believe in ghosts or aliens or the loch ness monster.”
“Because you only believe what you can see.” Finn nodded.
“Look, we don’t have time for this.” Conner knelt next to her. “I need you to look at me.”
Opening her eyes, she turned to Conner. Between the pain and sheer mental exhaustion, every breath was a deliberate choice that became harder and harder to make. Conner stood up and took a few steps back, stripping off his shirt and unbuckling his belt.
“What are you doing?” Jillian shot a worried look to Finn. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s not getting naked to be creepy.” Finn sighed. “Just watch.”
She looked back at the now completely naked man who was shaking out his arms like an athlete warming up for a game. His face screwed up in concentration as his shoulders distorted, growing more prominent as he hunched over. His mouth opened, but instead of a grunt, a deep, guttural growl came out, a noise that didn’t seem like it could come from a human being. Jillian gaped, briefly distracted from her mortal peril.
Brown and gold shaggy fur sprouted around his shoulders, spreading downward as he fell to his knees. When he lifted his head again, two dark, beady eyes had replaced the once fluorescent blue, and a furry muzzle tipped with a big black nose sniffed and panted. He let out a gruff mumble before lumbering toward her.
“Do you recognize him?” Vincent looked at Jillian. “He said he saw you in the woods on the other side of the river, that a man was trying to hurt you.”
“That was…” Her heart was practically vibrating in her chest. “The bear from when Ted attacked me… That was Conner?”
Having the back of her head smashed against a rock had her more than a little disoriented when that bear had shown up. She couldn’t be sure if it were the same animal, but that would have explained how they knew about Ted. Something this bizarre being possible might even explain the vision she’d had. Jillian cleared her throat and took a deep breath, trying to process what was right in front of her.
Could this be a trick using smoke and mirrors or holograms, maybe even whatever psychedelics that caused that weird snake vision? As the bear came closer, her fear subsided. It would have made sense to be terrified of him, but she wasn’t. Her hand lifted on its own, reaching out to stroke the fur on his front leg. Completely taken in by the beauty of such a majestic creature, a soft smile crossed her lips.
This is happening.
As much as the skeptic in her wanted to deny what her senses affirmed, something inside shifted, sparking energy that ignited like wildfire; not just desperation to survive, but curiosity. If this were the reality, what else was out there? Her mind opened to a world much bigger than the one she’d woken up to, and she knew that if she lived through this, she would never be the same.
“So, is seeing believing?” Vincent patted the bear on the shoulder. “Are you willing to at least give this ritual a try?”
“After everything that’s happened, I don’t even know if I can trust my own eyes.” Jillian covered her face with her hands before leaning back to prop herself up on her elbows. “I don’t know why, but everything in my body is telling me to trust you guys. What do we have to do?”
“First things first.” Vincent waved Finn over. “We have to get you to the circle. It’s too deep for us to carry you on the stretcher.”
The bear that had been Conner a moment ago bellowed, lumbering to the edge of the water and looked over his shoulder, snorting decisively.
“That could work,” Vincent responded to the bear and then turned to Jillian. “Do you think you could hold onto him while he swims you to the edge?”
“I…” She flexed her fingers, noting the tremors in her hand. “I’m not sure.”
The bear waded out into the water, making grumbly vocalizations.
“Well, let’s give it a try.” Vincent nodded to Finn, and they lifted the stretcher walking into the water before helping Jillian roll onto his back. Every movement sent a stabbing pain through her entire body, and she screamed through clenched teeth, clinging to Conner for dear life as he paddled out toward the rock. Finn and Vincent swam on either side of them, poised to rescue her if her strength failed.
As they neared the stone, Vincent pulled himself up onto the ledge and got to his feet. Jillian released a handful of Conner’s fur to reach for Vincent’s outstretched hand. His fingers closed around her wrist, and he lifted her with ease. The stone platform was much bigger than it had looked from the shore. It was a good twenty feet in diameter.
“Fuck!” She yelped, putting all her weight on her functional foot as she grasped for the collar of Vincent’s shirt.
He smelled good, not like cologne or aftershave, something earthy that seemed familiar even though she couldn’t place it.
“Easy there, Goldie.” Finn climbed up behind them. His arm encircled her waist as she leaned on his shoulder. He helped her hobble to the center of the circle, where she laid down, clenching her teeth, breathing through the pain. “The worst part is over.”
That was hard to believe, considering every time she had thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, it managed to prove her wrong. Her leg was so swollen that she worried it might break open like a sausage that someone forgot in the microwave.
Jillian glanced around, searching the surrounding area for some distraction to take her mind off the fact that her blood was on fire. Her vision blurred as she ran her fingers over the indentations in the stone beneath her. Looking down, she realized these weren’t the natural cracks or erosion one would expect to find. They were symbols, carved directly into the rock.
Vincent had called this thing the circle, and as Jillian sat up and studied it, she realized that it wasn’t just round; it was perfectly symmetrical; almost too perfect to be a part of the natural world. Clenching her fists as another wave of pain surged through her, she returned her gaze to the symbols. They didn’t look like anything she had ever seen before, not even in a college textbook or a documentary.
Conner and Vincent swam back to the beach while Finn perched on the edge of the circle, staring intently at the mist coming off the waterfall. Conner shifted back to his old self and quickly started throwing his clothes back on. Vincent picked up a backpack and waded back into the water.
“It’s beautiful out here.” A smile spread across her pale lips. “This wouldn’t be the worst place to die… better than my last two close calls.”
“There’s only room for one pessimist in this group.” Finn crossed his arms.
Vincent swam across with one arm out of the water, clutching the backpack, which Finn grabbed, allowing Vincent to pull himself up onto the ledge.
“I prefer the term realist.” Jillian shrugged, suddenly distracted by the sight of Vincent in a wet, black tank top. Droplets of water glistened on the curves of his perfectly formed muscles, but his herculean torso wasn’t the reason she couldn’t stop staring. The tribal tattoos that covered his arms bore some similarity to the lines carved into the rock beneath her.
Conner rejoined them, once again in human form and fully clothed.
“Cold?” Finn smirked as Conner pulled himself out of the water.
“Jealous?” Conner winked at him.
“Boys…” Vincent snapped. “Let’s not get into a pissing contest in front of the lady.”
“Yes.” Jillian felt her ears turn red. “The lady votes that we all keep our dicks in our pants for the rest of the evening.”
“Ouch.” Finn punched Conner in the shoulder.
“I didn’t see you volunteering proof.” Conner punched Finn’s arm a tad harder.
“Enough.” Vincent unzipped the backpack and took out a plastic baggy full of tea-candles. He hand
ed a few to each of the boys, and they arranged them around the edge of the circle, carefully spacing them apart as evenly as they could.
“What do we do now?” Conner looked at Vincent.
“We stand at the edge and face the center.” He pointed at the places where he wanted them to stand.
Finn and Conner did as he said, and the three men faced Jillian, who was starting to rock back and forth to cope with the intensifying nausea.
“This is no small thing that we’re asking. It will take spirits from all four corners to answer us.”
“But there are only three of us.” Finn held his palms up. “I thought we needed four.”
“I will be calling out to the earth spirits, Finn is fire, Conner, you’re air and…” He looked down. “Miss, tell me your name, please.”
“Jillian Lox.” Her teeth chattered despite feeling like her blood was about to boil. “Nice to meet you all.”
“Jillian is going to be water.” He handed a lighter to Finn, who got to work, lighting all the candles. “Let’s get started.”
“We have all the elements present and accounted for.” Vincent stomped on the stone at his feet. “Earth.” He took a deep breath and pounded two fists on his chest. “Air.” He gestured to the candles. “Fire.” He held his arms out at his sides, looking at the small lake around him. “Water…”
“She doesn’t know how to perform the ritual.” Finn looked at Vincent. “I don’t even think she can stand up.”
“Well, then let’s hope the spirits aren’t sticklers for detail.” Vincent paused. “What matters is the intention behind our actions. Our ancestors created these rituals. The idea is to get the spirits’ attention. That means Jillian has to understand where we come from.”
“I’m from Nebraska.” Conner shrugged.
“I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Finn shook his head and looked away.
“I’m talking about what we are; Therianthropes, druids, weres, shifters… Every ancient culture around the globe has legends of human beings that can turn into animals. In places like Egypt and Greece, humans revered them as demi-gods. In places like Romania and North Umbria, they were exiled and cursed out of ignorance and fear.”
