by Arthur, Keri
“I’m not hearing Aiden complain.”
“No doubt because he’s in wolf form and can move through them easier.”
It was a guess that was proven correct a few minutes later as Aiden stepped into the clearing, his silver coat gleaming in the soft morning light now filtering through the trees. He glanced at the two of us—and even in wolf form, the gleam of annoyance in his blue eyes was very evident—then padded across to the bloodstain and sniffed it. His nose wrinkled in distaste, then light shimmered across his body, briefly concealing the change from wolf to human.
Before he could say anything, Monty all but erupted out of the blackberry cluster. His jacket was shredded and there were bloody scratches across his face and hands.
“Well, fuck, that’s an experience I’m not looking forward to repeating.” He plucked a short cane from his hair and flicked it away. “So, was the effort worth it? Did you get anything from reading the blood?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “The blood belongs to the ghoul, and the ghoul can sprout wings and tear itself in half.”
“Ha! Then I guessed right,” Monty said, delight evident.
“Care to share said guess with the rest of us?” Aiden said, voice dry.
“What we’re dealing with is a Manananggal, and it’s not really a ghoul. It’s more a vampire-like monster or witch who—depending on which myth you read—preys on either sleeping pregnant women or on newlyweds. The latter is apparently due to it being left at the altar.”
“So what happens to the lower part of its torso when it separates?” Aiden asked.
“It’s left standing wherever the Manananggal separated. The easiest way to kill it is to find the abandoned torso and then sprinkle a mix of salt, crushed garlic, and ash over and around it. This prevents the two parts rejoining, and means the Manananggal will perish on sunrise.”
I frowned. “Why, when it can obviously survive without half its body?”
“All magic has its limits and all supernatural beings at least one vulnerability. Obviously, needing to rejoin its body before night is over is this creature’s.”
“Does that mean it’s the inability to become one again that kills it, rather than sunlight?” I asked.
“Good question—and one I can’t answer.”
“Is preventing it rejoining the only way it can be killed?” Aiden asked.
“I daresay the usual methods to kill a vampire would work with this creature.” He walked across to where Belle and I were sitting. “Can I have a look at the blood sample?”
I handed him the Ziploc bag. He undid it and rolled the thread-wrapped piece of dirt into his hand. “There’s not much of a pulse, despite the spell around it. Which, by the way, was well done.”
I smiled. “Will you be able to use it to do a location spell?”
“Maybe.” He silently studied the bloodstained dirt for a few seconds. “If we’re to have any hope of it succeeding, it’ll need to be done straight away. And I’ll need your help, Liz.”
I frowned. “Why? You’re the stronger witch and—”
“In spellcraft yes, but it’s rather debatable when it comes to actual power.” His voice was dry. “But that’s beside the point. I can do a locator but if the dark thread contained within the blood fades too much more, then our only hope might be your psi skills.”
“I’ve already used psychometry on the blood, Monty. The images were vague—”
“Maybe the connection was simply too faint because the creature is too far away.”
“Blood is a connector?” Aiden asked, surprise in his tone.
Monty glanced at him. “With many supernatural creatures, yes.”
“Then why haven’t we used it to locate these things before? If there’s one thing we haven’t been short on in the recent spate of murders, it’s blood.”
“Yes, but I rather suspect it’s a skill that’s only recently developed.” Monty’s gaze returned to mine. “Am I right?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “It would seem the wild magic is altering—either by enhancing or changing—some of my psychic abilities and my sensory capabilities.”
“Is that why you came up here to talk to Katie?” Aiden asked.
I met his gaze evenly. “Yes. And no, I won’t inform you every time I go see her, Aiden. That would be impractical and intrusive.”
“On her life? Or yours?”
I smiled, though it held little humor. “Can we save this discussion until after we’ve caught this ghoul or vampire or whatever the hell it actually is?”
He studied me for a minute, then nodded once. The annoyance in his eyes remained—and sparked an echo inside of me. He had no right to anger; not when the Marin pack had given us clearance to enter that clearing as and when necessary.
He wasn’t my keeper. Not now. Not in any future scenario I could imagine. And I’d have thought he’d know me well enough by now to be aware of that fact.
Except he’s not only a werewolf, Belle said, amusement in her mental tone, but also a man. And we all know that their brain and instincts don’t always listen to each other.
I snorted mentally and tried to ignore the niggling annoyance as Monty wove a spell in and around my preserving spell. It was so delicately done that although the two spells were intimately entwined, neither interfered with the other.
“Right,” he said after closing off the last thread and then activating the spell. “The trail leads up the hill.”
Belle pushed to her feet. “At least we don’t have to tackle the blackberries again.”
“Depends on where the trail leads us,” Aiden said. “They return with a vengeance in the next valley.”
“Something else to look forward to,” I muttered, casting a look Aiden’s way.
He simply raised one eyebrow and motioned me forward. I swung my pack over my shoulder and followed Monty up the hill. I was puffing badly by the time we reached the top, so when Monty stopped, I took the opportunity to grab a drink.
“Has the trail gone cold?” Aiden asked.
“Maybe.” Monty held the spell-wrapped piece of dirt away from his body and moved slowly around. After doing one complete circle, he turned back to the right. “There’s a slight pulse coming from down that trail, but I’m not entirely sure it’s a true reading.”
I frowned. “How can it not be a true reading?”
His expression was troubled. “I don’t know. It just feels… off.”
“I’m not smelling anything out of place,” Aiden commented.
Neither was I. But if Monty said something was wrong, then there definitely was. “If you peel back your spell, I’ll see if the blood can give us any further clues.”
He nodded and immediately did so. I carefully pushed a finger through the threads of my preserving spell and lightly touched the dried blood. Though there was very little in the way of response, Monty was right. Something felt different.
I withdrew my finger and studied the faint path that disappeared into a thick strand of trees lining the ridge. “Whatever’s caused the change in the response we’re getting, I don’t think it’s too far away.”
“I’ll go investigate—”
“Both of us will. It’ll be safer.” I glanced at Belle and Aiden. “Wait here. We won’t be long.”
Aiden’s gaze narrowed, but he didn’t argue.
Be careful was Belle’s only comment.
I turned and followed Monty along the top of the ridge. The windswept trees gathered close to the path, and though the sunlight filtered through them easily enough, a vague caress of evil began to stain the air.
“Monty—”
“I know.” His voice vibrated with tension, and magic sparked across his fingertips—a containment spell. “It’s coming from around the curve ahead.”
“It doesn’t feel like the creature.” I silently followed his lead and cast my version of his spell across my fingertips. “It’s not solid enough, if that makes sense.”
“It does.” His pace slow
ed as we neared the curve. “It vaguely feels like magic.”
“Oh, that can’t be good.”
“I’m thinking that’s an understatement.” The spell twined around his fingers glowed brighter. “I’m not seeing any threads though.”
I stepped sideways to get a better view. The path ahead continued to curve around to the right; despite the shadows and the faint caress of evil and magic, there was no indication a spell had been activated. “Maybe she’s hidden them.”
“Maybe.” There was doubt in his tone.
“Has the pulse from the blood changed at all?”
“It’s almost nonexistent now. But that could simply be because it’s dried and the connection’s been severed.”
I eyed the path ahead with trepidation. “What do you want to do?”
“We have to go on—I don’t think we’ve got any other choice. The last thing we need is for a werewolf or a hiker to spring a trap set for us.”
“Agreed, although can I just state that I’m not altogether happy about us springing the trap, either.”
He glanced at me. “You can remain behind.”
“And risk losing the only relative I actually like? No.”
“The problem with that statement is the fact that if you get hurt, my future wife won’t be happy.”
Too right, Belle said. And seriously, tell him to cut it out with the ‘future wife’ stuff. It’s getting annoying.
“The future wife,” I said obediently, “wishes you to stop calling her that.”
He chuckled softly and, in that moment, we heard it.
A soft snap.
We both stopped and glanced down.
The sound hadn’t come from Monty stepping on a bit of wood or anything else so mundane.
Its source had been a spell—a thread of magic we hadn’t seen and still couldn’t see. The broken remnants of whatever spell had been stretched across the path remained invisible—only the slight echo of its power floating away on the breeze gave its presence away.
For several heartbeats, neither of us moved. The broken threads continued to drift away, but there was no immediate indication that anything untoward was about to happen.
“Maybe it was just an alarm of some kind.”
His whisper scratched across both the silence and my nerves. I scanned the area, looking for anything that suggested there were caves or some other kind of hiding spot nearby. There wasn’t any sort of rock outcrop, big or small. Nothing but trees clinging to the edge of the path, partially hiding the steep drop down to the ravine.
“Why would she set an alarm here?” I whispered back. “It makes no—”
I cut off the rest of the sentence as the ground vibrated. It was little more than a faint tremble that came and went, but it nevertheless had tension ramping up several notches.
A heartbeat later, a second shudder ran through the ground, sharper and stronger than before. This time, it came from behind us rather than underneath us.
Understanding hit, though it came from my connection to this mountain—to the magic that welled from deep within it—rather than any understanding of what the spell had been.
I thrust a hand onto Monty’s back and shoved him forward. “Run!”
He flailed for a heartbeat, then caught his balance and did so, all but flying across the top of the ridge. The rumbling grew stronger, louder, and the trees around us quivered and shook.
This goddamn section of the ridge was about to slip into the ravine.
“Faster, Monty!”
He swung up an arm to bat away the branches of a tree that swayed so badly it looked storm-tossed. “I’m running as fast I fucking can!”
I leapt over a branch that crashed between us, slipped on sliding soil, and stumbled forward several steps before I caught my balance and ran on.
Huge chunks of ground were now breaking away, taking with it scrub and smaller trees. It forced us to dodge and weave, which slowed us and only increased the danger.
Then, with a whoomph that hurt my ears, the entire section we were on collapsed into the ravine.
Chapter Nine
I dropped like a stone for several feet, a scream on my lips and terror in my heart. I hit the broken earth hard enough to have pain shimmering up my spine and tumbled forward, surrounded by a deadly rain of earth, rocks, and broken bits of trees. Felt the surge of magic when I hit the ground a second time, felt it rise around me. Saw a flash of blue to my right and instinctively flung out a hand, somehow grabbing Monty’s. His fingers twitched, tightened on mine, even as the magic continued to surge. It wasn’t witch magic, but wild. It flowed over me, over Monty, forming a connection that somehow pulled us into each other’s arms even as it created a shimmering barrier between the worst of the landslide and us.
But it didn’t stop us falling; didn’t stop the bruises and cuts as we rolled and bounced sideways down the hill.
Then, abruptly, my back hit stone and we stopped. I cursed, blinking back tears of pain and sucking in air as hurt rolled through every inch of me. The broken hillside continued to slide past us, but the shimmering barrier of wild magic forced the worst of it away from us.
Neither of us moved. I don’t think either of us dared. Eventually, the tumble of debris eased. As the shimmer of wild magic faded, I became aware of the wave of pain washing through my thoughts and sent a panicked, Belle? Are you okay?
Yes. Aiden sensed the onset of the landslide and got us both off the ridge.
Then why are you in pain?
I twisted my ankle on the way down. Aiden went into hero mode and carried me. She paused. What about you and Monty? We couldn’t see what happened from where we were.
We sprung the Manananggal’s trap, which is what set off the landslide. The wild magic saved us, Belle. I didn’t call it—it just came.
Meaning the connection is deepening into an instinctive response level—and I guess that’s no real surprise given it’s embedded in your DNA.
Yes, but it’s problematic. I definitely don’t need an instinctive-level response to anything Clayton might do or try.
“Lizzie?” came Aiden’s shout from somewhere above us.
“Here!” I replied.
“And Monty?”
“Also here.”
“Stay where you are. The hill remains unstable, so I’ll be down as soon as I can.” He paused. “Are either of you hurt?”
“Nothing’s broken, as far as I’m aware.” I glanced down as Monty stirred. His face was bloody thanks to a large cut above his left eye, and his right cheek was scraped and bruised. “You?”
“Same.” He coughed and then winced. “The bruises are going to be horrendous, however.”
“If bruises and a few cuts are all we come out with, then I’m not about to complain. We should be dead.”
“That was certainly the bitch’s intention. Thank God you called the wild magic into action.”
I didn’t disabuse him of the notion. Right now, it wasn’t important. “Can you sit up?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He carefully pushed away from me and then levered himself upright, his expression a mix of determination and pain.
I carefully followed suit, but a dozen different hurts flared the length of my body, and the world briefly spun. I sucked in a breath and then raised a hand to the tender spot on the top of my head; my fingers came away smeared with blood. At least it wasn’t profusely bleeding—unlike the cut above Monty’s eye. I swung my battered backpack around and pulled out some tissues. “Shove these on the cut.”
He did so. “Well, one good thing did come out of all this—we now know our Manananggal is magic capable.”
“Which is no doubt how she sensed us—she must have felt me spelling her blood.”
“And that is going to cause problems, because if we can’t use magic to track her, finding the bitch is going to be a whole lot harder.”
“Maybe.” I shifted position, trying to ease the ache in my back. “And maybe not.”
He
raised an eyebrow. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning, how is she finding her victims? Either she’s hanging around wedding venues or she’s casting a spell of some kind to find newly married couples.”
“I guess a love spell could be perverted in such a manner.” He swiped at his cheek, smearing blood across the few bits of skin that weren’t either bloody or dirt caked. “But the reservation is a big place, and we’d have to be close enough to detect the spell’s formation.”
“What if we stake out local weddings? There can’t be that many booked—not when it’s almost winter.”
“Not everyone dreams of a summer wedding.”
“Of course not, but numbers have to be down—why else would most of them offer deep discounts during the winter months?”
“I guess.” His expression remained doubtful. “The other problem is the fact that the rangers haven’t the manpower to watch all possible venues. We certainly haven’t the witch power.”
I glanced past him and saw Aiden sliding toward us. Relief stirred, along with an odd feeling of security. Of being completely safe, even though that was as far from true as it could get given both Clayton and the Manananggal were still casting long shadows over us.
“Then how are we going to find this thing?”
“I don’t know yet.” He glanced around. “Nice of you to join the party, Ranger.”
“Nice to see you’re obviously well enough to joke about the situation.” He squatted between us, his gaze briefly sweeping me and coming up relieved. “How the hell did you survive the collapse?”
“Luck and magic.” I touched his arm lightly. “Help me up.”
“It might be better to wait for the medics—”
“How long will they be? And what about Belle?”
“Aside from a sprained ankle, she’s fine.”
“I know that much—I meant, are the medics going to her?”
“No, because Mac and Jaz are currently carrying her out to them.”
“If this ravine is anything like the other,” Monty commented, “the medics aren’t going to reach us very easily, especially when they’re carrying all their equipment. It’ll be better all round, Ranger, if we just walk out.”
