A Grim Situation

by Whit McClendon

  “Not exactly, no. Yes, Skinwalkers can change shape, but it’s because they’re willing to do awful things to gain that power. They control what they become, and they gain several additional powers as well, none of them good.”

  “Like what?”

  I scanned the documents before us to confirm what I already knew, “Some have control over the weather in a small area. Others can enter people’s minds to control them. They actually feed on fear, so they’ll often terrorize their victims to increase their strength. When they’ve fed sufficiently, they kill them. And in terms of magick, they’re extremely strong. It would be like comparing an ordinary human to Hercules.”

  “That sounds faaabulous,” Ariana drawled. “How do we kill something like that?”

  I turned to look her in the eyes, and I grinned. My eagerness must have overcome my control for a beat, and my glamour slipped enough to show my eyes. Ariana shuddered. She was tough, but my true face isn’t exactly nice to see.

  “I’m going to rip her throat out. That should work.”

  She was silent briefly, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “yeah, I guess that’ll do it. Let’s find that bitch and get this over with.”

  Ariana looked at the desk again, then started stacking all the books and papers into one pile. She gathered her focus and murmured a few words, gesturing over the materials as she did so. She cast her spell over the items and I felt their foul emanations vanish as she wrapped them safely within her power. She sighed, “That’s better. These things are dangerous, no way I’m leaving them here!” She whipped off her pack and deposited everything inside. The pile was bigger than the backpack, but as always, when Ariana slipped her arms through the straps once more, the pack still looked barely half-full. “All right, let’s go find that detective and put Tanya out of our misery!”

  That’s when the door opened. A guard was backing into the room, carrying something in both hands. He was tall and brawny, with long hair done up in a man-bun, dressed in black cargo pants and a black polo shirt, probably the standard uniform for all of Tanya’s hired help. He had a hefty handgun strapped to one thigh, and a tattoo of a serpent slithering out of his shirt collar to wrap around the back of his neck. His eyes were on the burden he carried, and he was faintly whistling as he entered.

  I grabbed Ariana’s arm and held her still. Don’t move. I felt a mental nod of assent from her. We’d worked together enough to act well on each other’s signals. Technically, we were in plain view in front of the desk, but the dimness I cast over us both would probably hide us from the goon’s eyes. We stayed frozen and watched him closely, hoping for the best.

  The man turned as he entered the room and let the door shut behind him. He didn’t notice us, only walked over to the bed and laid a laundry basket filled with folded clothes on it. He turned and opened the bottom drawer of a nearby chest and then began transferring the clothes into the waiting drawer, still idly whistling as he did so.

  You want him? I silently asked Ariana.

  There was a slight pause, then she answered, Nah. He’s cute and all, but he’s a bad guy. Plus, that man-bun looks ridiculous on him.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. No, do you want to take him out or do you want me to do it?

  Oh, right! No, I got him, just give me two seconds. Without another word, she silently moved forward. Man-bun didn’t look away from his work until he heard her whip out the collapsible baton she’d produced from somewhere. He turned and registered Ariana’s presence as her baton flew through the air on its way to his temple. Too late.

  I’ll say this for him, he was tough. The first shot dropped him to one knee and I thought he was done, but he shook it off and came up with a furious growl. He grabbed Ariana’s arms at the biceps in an attempt to keep her from hitting him again, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She grunted, but it wasn’t from fear. It was anger.

  The guard was even stronger than he looked, and Ariana dropped her baton as her fingers went numb. He grinned at her, but he’d forgotten about her legs. She drove her shinbone into his groin, doubling him over and loosening his grip. She shrugged loose and grabbed one of his arms, shifted his hand out of the way, and performed a beautiful arm-drag that brought her around behind him. She wasted no time in wrapping her arm around his throat and locking in a solid chokehold worthy of a UFC champion. His face purpled, and he flailed ineffectually for a few seconds. Even though Ariana wasn’t nearly as big or strong as he, she knew what she was doing. He slumped in her arms, unconscious, and she guided him to the floor.

  “Nice job,” I commented.

  “Thanks! I’ve been working out,” she responded. She found a pair of handcuffs on his belt and cuffed his hands behind his back, then pulled some thick zip-ties from her own pocket and secured his ankles. With a sigh, she sat back on her heels and closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed, and she raised her hands over the unconscious man’s body. She began chanting quietly, a low murmur that carried the weight of power in it, but it was a subtle, gentle magick. The man on the floor exhaled softly and relaxed into a deep sleep. Ariana’s eyes opened again, and she stood, retrieving her collapsible baton as she did so. “He’ll sleep the rest of the night, at least. Now what?”

  “Let’s go find Tanya, and hopefully, the detective as well. We need one dead, and the other still breathing.”

  We walked over to the door and eased it open. A hallway led off to the left, and I could see a couple of doors down there before the corridor turned to the right. Directly in front of us was a set of stairs that led to the next level below. Voices drifted up to us, and I counted two speakers, both male. Keeping us dim, I led the way down the stairs, Ariana following close behind.

  Two guards were in the great room, which sported a vaulted ceiling and an impressive chandelier. The men stood in front of an incredibly wide TV screen, absorbed in some sporting event that required a ball and helmets. I thought about subduing them right away, but I figured leaving them alone would buy us a few more minutes to look around, so we slipped past them and down the hall. At the far end, we found a small bedroom that looked recently lived in, and I felt something familiar.

  “There’s energy here,” I whispered to Ariana. “I think they kept our detective in here.”

  “Oh, so now she’s our detective?” she needled me. She seemed to love doing that when she got the chance. “I didn’t realize that your relationship had gotten that far. She shot you, remember?”

  “She had good reason,” I said.

  “If you say so,” she shook her head. “Can you tell anything else?”

  I opened my senses to the full and shifted my perception, trying to hone in on Avery’s distinctive energy. She had been here for hours before being moved, so her aura was still visible to me. Its intense residue was fading, but I interpreted it the best I could.

  There had been a scuffle in the room, but then she’d left. I motioned for Ariana to follow me and I eased back out of the room, tracking the faint trail of her energy. Once in the hallway, I saw it move away from us, stop at another room, then head out into the great room and towards the big staircase that led to the ground floor. Which meant we’d have to pass the guards. I smiled…I needed some exercise. I looked at Ariana and sent, I’ll take these two, then we follow Avery’s trail. It heads downstairs. Give me a moment. Ariana drew one of her guns, screwed a silencer on the end, then nodded at me. We moved silently down the hall, and I was already relishing the fight.

  Ariana and I stopped at the edge of the hallway before entering the great room. We heard the two men roar at something they heard on the TV, and I readied myself to slide around the corner and take them both. Just then, a tinny voice blared in the room. One of them had a walkie talkie.

  “Main House, this is Guard Shack, over.”

  We heard one of them click the button on the device and reply, “Main House, copy.”

  “One of the drones spotted a downed copter couple of miles out. We’re sending a squad on bikes
, over.”

  “Copy that, Shack,” the guard replied. “All’s quiet here. Queen’s taken the guest into the mountain, over.” The man let go of the button on the device, then spoke to his comrade, “Sounds like we’re going to be digging more graves in the back yard.”

  The second man swore, “Dammit. I hate that. Those guys get to ride those bikes out there and shoot up shit. That’s way more fun than being stuck in here.”

  “Yeah, well, at least we’ve got all the sports channels, right?”

  Number two mumbled something, still sulking.

  Great. They were sending a crew after Edge and Jim. With motorcycles, they’d be there in minutes, even accounting for the dark and the rough terrain. I idly hoped Edge brought some heavy armament with him, then I shifted my focus to the task at hand.

  Kane! Ariana interrupted my thought process by shouting in my mind, they’re going after Edge! We’ve got to stop them!

  I gave her a look. No we don’t. Edge and Jim are on their own. We’ve got a job to do. Even as I mentally sent her the words, I realized that wasn’t going to fly with her.

  Like Hell! she responded. We’ve got to do something! Those are our people out there. We can’t just let them die! She reached out to grab my arm for emphasis. She never did that. I didn’t particularly care for it, but I could read it all in her aura. Responsibility, caring, affection, fear, and anger all boiled around her like the corona of the sun in that moment, and I knew adjustments needed to be made. Of course, I could have just ignored her and gone ahead on my own...nah, that wouldn’t do. The Goddess had already expressed her desire for us to work together, and clearly so. I sighed.

  Hold on one second, I paused our conversation and bolted around the corner. The two men died without a sound, except for a faint gurgling as I gashed their throats with my claws. I didn’t have time to baby them, and they weren’t worth it anyway. They slumped to the ground with surprised looks on their faces, guns still in their holsters. That task completed, I found the dimmer switch on the wall and lowered the lights so we could see out of the big window. Then I called Ariana over and pointed.

  “All right, fine. See those lights?” I began, “That road leads into the mountain. There’s seriously bad juju in there, judging by the feel of it, and I’m pretty sure that’s where they’ve taken Avery.” I pointed off to the east. I could hear the high-pitched noise of dirt bike engines revving up, and several headlights were visible in the courtyard below. “Those guys are leaving any second. I can catch them. You can’t. But you can get into that mountain and put a few bullets in Tanya before she does something monumentally bad.”

  She looked out into the darkness, taking in the imposing mountain, and shaking off the dread she felt come over her when she looked too long at it. Then she looked at the motorcycles in the courtyard. As she watched, the main gates began to open. They’d be leaving in moments.

  “All right. Go save Edge. I’ll take care of that hussy, Tanya.” Ariana’s voice was hard and her head held high, confident as always, but then she paused. The tiniest doubt wriggled its way into her, and it showed on her face. Almost too quiet for me to hear, she asked, “What if I’m too late?”

  The Goddess still speaks to me on occasion. Not nearly often enough that I can count on her for any real assistance, but she’s come through for me a time or three. She never speaks to me in words, but in visions and feelings. Just then, she showed me a few tiny flashes, just enough for me to be sure of our path.

  “You’re not too late, not yet. Avery’s alive, and there’s still time, but not much. Kill anything that gets in your way, just get to that mountain and find the Detective. I’ll handle those assholes down there and get back as soon as I can.”

  Ariana looked at me, her mouth clamped into a thin line, and she nodded. She glanced down at the bodies of the thugs I’d just killed, then she knelt beside one of them. He’d been carrying an assault rifle with a folding wire stock and a long, curved magazine. She appropriated this, then relieved the dead man of several other magazines, which she stuffed in her pockets. When she rose to her feet, she jacked a round into the chamber and nodded firmly at me. Then her smile returned.

  “Look, it’s an AK-47,” she explained. “I’ve always wanted one of these. You can beat them to death and they’ll still shoot. Never hurts to be prepared, right?”

  Chapter 26

  The window shattered as I crashed through it, making a pretty sound that I always enjoyed. My trajectory took me beyond the falling shards of glass, and I landed in the flagstone courtyard in a shoulder roll that allowed me to come up running. The motorcycles had only just left, and the automatic door was sliding shut. I lowered my shoulder and slammed into the moving metal plate, knocking it off its track before it could lock into place. The gate mechanism sputtered and sparked before it finally ground to a halt, leaving a six-foot gap between the door and the wall.

  Good, I thought, that’ll make it easier to get back in. I slipped through the opening and saw the headlights of the motorcycles up ahead, shakily spearing into the night as the bikes navigated the rough terrain.

  They were fast, sure. But so was I. And I’m better in the dark. It looks almost like daylight to me. I took off at a run, dodging ruts and cacti along with way, reveling in the feel of the cool air as it rushed past my face. The riders up ahead didn’t know I was coming, had no idea their death was approaching with each passing moment. I knew I had to act fast; they would reach the downed copter in short order.

  The riders topped a ridge and caught some air as they left the desert floor, showing off a little for each other. I crested the same ridge a moment later, and was dismayed to see the copter in the distance. Neither Edge nor Jim were in sight, so I hoped they’d stay that way until I was finished with the bad guys. I pushed myself a little harder and closed the distance on the rearmost rider.

  I came up alongside him and lashed out with my claws, intending to lay him completely open. To my surprise, my claws scraped across some kind of armor, and only ripped wide gashes in the leather of the protective jacket the guy wore. He wobbled a bit, but quickly regained control of his bike. Utterly surprised, he whipped his head in my direction, but couldn’t quite make me out in the dark, dim as I was. Without missing a beat, he pulled a small submachine gun from a holster on his cycle and fired a burst in my direction, narrowly missing me. I slowed a fraction so I could get behind him, then came up on his right side this time.

  You want to play that way? Fine.

  I put on a burst of speed and angled towards him. When I leaped, his head was just swinging around to that side as he tried to locate me. He never even saw me. I turned an aerial cartwheel over his bike and grabbed his helmet as I hurtled over the top of him. I let my momentum aid me as I viciously wrenched his head almost all the way around. His neck made some beautiful cracking noises and his body instantly went limp as my feet hit the ground running on the far side. The bike floundered, hit a stone, and flipped end over end as the rider’s body fell away. I caught a lucky break as the motorcycle clipped the back of another rider, flinging him and his bike into a bone-breaking roll.

  Two down, three to go, I thought.

  The others had figured out something was amiss. They broke off their original heading and began to circle my position. I tried to pick one to target next, but bullets raked the ground at my feet, forcing me to step back and regroup. Another barrage of gunfire had me diving and rolling out of the way. The bullets were coming too close. Somehow, they were able to see me, despite my glamour. Dammit, I thought, dodging yet again as more rounds hissed through the air next to my face. Probably something in their helmets.

  Just as I avoided another volley of shots, I felt a searing pain across my back. I turned to see one of the riders streaking away from me. He’d come up in my blind spot while I was occupied and hit me while I wasn’t looking. The pain was fierce, but manageable. I’d had far worse and could already feel the wound beginning to knit back together. I gritted m
y teeth and looked around until I spotted the culprit. One of those assholes had a sword.

  Seriously? I thought. Guy thinks he’s a samurai or something?

  I knelt and ran my hand along the ground, coming up with a jagged, fist-sized stone. I tracked the sword-wielder as he made a lap around me, then I whipped my arm forward with blinding speed. The rock sailed through the darkness and impacted with great force on the rider’s helmet, making a satisfying sound as it shattered the thick protective plastic. I’ve never played baseball, but I have one hell of a throw. The now-dead rider pitched sideways off his bike, dropping his sword from limp fingers. I bolted for it, snaking my way through the bullets laid down by the remaining three riders, and snatched it up.

  GrimFaeries usually have no need of weapons, equipped as we are with such impressive sets of claws and teeth. However, I’d already seen that their helmets and armor were a bit tougher than usual. Three feet of steel might help me move things along. I twirled it in my hands, getting its balance. It wasn’t the best made blade, but it had my blood on it. So that made it mine. I crouched and held it at the ready.

  They came at me from the west, their bikes far enough apart that I could only reach one at a time. That would leave my back open to attack. I gauged the distance and decided to take my chances on the rightmost one. I planned to fling myself at him, cut him in half, then drag his body along with me and use it as a shield of sorts. Not the best plan, but I was pressed for time. I gathered my feet under me and prepared to spring. The bikes accelerated, their motors buzzing loudly in my ears, and I could see the gun barrels they had leveled on me as they approached.

  Ok, here we go, I thought.

  I never made that leap. The rider to my left suddenly flew off the back of his bike as though yanked by a tether. The other let his gun hang from his neck strap, and used both hands to steer his bike to a skidding stop, just out of my range. He looked at his companion in confusion, looked at me standing several yards away with a naked blade in my hand, then gunned the throttle and threw up a spray of dirt as he headed back the way he’d come. He hadn’t gone ten yards when he jerked violently and fell off to one side, leaving his bike to roll forward several yards before it lazily fell over and sputtered to silence.