Howl (Witches & Warlocks Book 4), page 12
I unzip my coat and let Twinks out. Whisper an incantation and watch as he scurries into one of the darkened rooms down the hall trailing protective magic like pixie dust. With one last look at Noah, I walk over to one of the lamps on the floor. Check the lightbulb and find it unbroken.
And then, after one last final sigh, I turn the thing on and light floods the living room.
Chapter Eighteen
There’s the scuttle of claws on metal as Ty pivots and leaps off the car. I cringe at the thought of all that scraped paint, as if that’s the most important thing happening right now. Noah backs away from the window, stands next to me, and we’re in the process of calling on our magic when a huge wolf shatters the window and barrels into the living room. I loose a ball of dark magic his way, all seething with poison and fire, but he’s fast. Way faster than I gave him credit for. The magic slams into the wall and the light in the room flickers green with the impact.
Ty crashes into me and I shriek as his teeth tear into my shoulder. Thankfully, Noah blasts him with an energy ball that knocks him to the floor. Instinctively, I’m waiting for the kill shot from Luke, which of course never comes. And that means that the kill shot’s gonna have to come from me. Noah’s way better at the defensive stuff than the offensive stuff.
Blood’s trickling down my arm and Noah’s working on a healing spell. I only have a minute to worry about the consequences of being bitten by a werewolf before Ty’s on me again. Knocks me over and my head strikes the corner of a broken end table on my way down. I grunt at the impact. Worry about the streak of sharp pain that ignites along the side of my head. And then all I know are wolf teeth and wolf breath and the fear of death.
My hands are scrabbling in the debris, searching for anything I can get my hands on. Noah hits Ty with another blast and I smell burning fur and flesh. I guess he’s figured out that without Luke here, we’re in charge of figuring out how to kill the bastard. I finally get a good grasp on what feels like the leg of an end table and I thrust it forward, aiming for his throat. It sinks deep into soft flesh and fur with a sickening sound.
The wolf roars, shakes his mighty head, and I cringe at all the blood. The bit of wood falls to the ground and the gaping wound heals as I watch. Shit. I really don’t know how to kill a werewolf. I scramble to my feet and call on the tiger. She bounds into existence and leaps at my assailant.
“How?” I shout at Noah while Ty’s distracted with my own set of teeth and claws.
Noah’s out of breath, sweating. He’s working hard to strengthen his magic, to make it strong enough to kill. That usually takes a lot of time with light magic, which we don’t have right now, so he’s expediting the process and I’m afraid he’s gonna hurt himself. “The head,” he says in between incantations.
“What about the head?” I yell.
“Sever it from the body.”
There’s so much sound and fury in the small room, I almost don’t hear him over the roar of the tiger and the bark of the wolf, the clatter of broken furniture, and the crash of gathering magic. And all the while, I’m trying to make peace with the fact that I’m going to have to sever a head from a body. Me. Zoe Tate. The girl who couldn’t speak just a few months ago is going to have to sever a fricken head from a fricken body.
And I don’t have one single clue how I’m going to do that.
Noah’s worked some magic on my shoulder, but it still hurts like hell. And blood’s leaking from out of my hairline now, too. The world is spinning and I feel so woozy.
Ty’s gotten out from under the tiger. His teeth and muzzle are covered in blood and I don’t know if it’s mine or the tiger’s or if the tiger can even bleed. I’m in the process of working out a spell to act as some sort of blade when something comes streaking through the broken window. There’s a yelp, the squeal and whine of a canine in pain. My eyes swim into focus in time to see Becca, her hands grasping the great head of the wolf, twisting. There’s a terrible sound. Cracking and tearing. It’s wet and I never, in all my life, want to hear it again. And then there she is, holding the head in her hands. Blood everywhere. And to make it all worse, the thing slowly morphs back into the head of a man and there’s Becca, holding Ty’s severed head.
I drop to my hands and knees and gag. Wretch hard. As if my stomach’s trying to turn itself inside out. Close my eyes and hope that helps with the nausea, but I can still see her, the image burned into my brain. Blood dripping from her hands. Strings of something dangling from the neck.
And that’s that. I heave the contents of my stomach onto the floor. Just one more terrible smell in a house full of terrible smells.
And then I open my eyes and find Becca staring at me. Her own eyes have gone black and her nostrils are flaring. Her chest is heaving. She drops the head and it hits the floor with a sickening smack. Her hands clench into claws and she sinks into a predatory crouch.
It’s only then that I realize I’m bleeding all over the place in front of a newly turned vampire.
“Get out of here, Zoe,” Becca growls through gritted teeth. “It’s all I can do to stand still.”
“If I run, you’ll chase me.” I say.
“Then don’t run.”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.
Or not.
I totally know what to do with a vampire.
She stalks towards me and I glance at Noah, reach out to grab his hand and immediately feel his magic flowing into me, supplementing mine. He’s already used so much of his own, I hate to borrow some for myself, but there’s no way around it. Without Luke here, I’m going to need all the strength I can get in order to complete the transformation.
I feel it. A single drop of blood working its way out of my hairline and down my forehead. It hits my nose and slides off the side, trickles down my cheek like a tear. Becca licks her lips. And that’s all the warning I get.
She launches herself at me and I don’t even see her move. Her teeth sink into my throat and clamp down. I wail in pain, shrieking the incantation that will turn her mortal once again. There’s a great surge of magic. It rushes through my body and flows into the room, surges around us, and slams into Becca. It skates along the surface of her body, a glorious mixture of gold and purple. The pallor of her skin fades into a healthy pink. Her black eyes fade to a rich chocolate brown.
She stumbles back, gagging. Wipes my blood from her mouth. “What did you do to me?”
I clamp a hand to my throat, my stomach sinking at the way the wound feels. The slick coating of blood pouring down my shoulder, my back, my chest. The way the world tilts and spins. The way the ground rushes up to meet me.
Becca screams. Pulls her shirt over her head and presses it to my neck. Noah sinks to his knees and I’m struck by the big black circles under his eyes. They stand out against his pale skin. There’s a sheen of sweat across his forehead and upper lip. His hand trembles in mine. But his lips are moving, muttering spell after spell and strength flows from him and into me. The world stops spinning. The pain begins to dissipate. I can think again.
I add my voice to Noah’s, murmur my own healing spell. Focus on the wounds of my flesh and imagine them stitching back together. As I start to feel better, I turn my focus to Noah. Give him my strength. Bolster his magic with my own.
“Noah,” I say, trying to get his attention. “I’m fine, you can stop.”
But he doesn’t. He just keep muttering spell after spell as if they were prayers. His hands on my body. His eyes on mine. And because of the eye contact, I get to watch as his eyes lose focus. As they roll up into his head and his eyelids flutter. As they finally slide closed and he slumps forward, collapsing into me.
Heart stuttering, I slide out from underneath him. Stretch him out across the floor. Put my ear to his chest. Thank God, his heart is beating, if erratically.
“Can you help?” I ask Becca and she shakes her head.
“I don’t have healing magic.”
My throat is still bleeding, although I’m not in danger of bleeding out anymore. But I’ve definitely hit the tail end of my magic. Doesn’t matter. I turn my full attention to Noah. Close my eyes and call on my reserves. Search for what’s broken in him and send my magic in to heal it.
I’ll save him if it kills me. Heal him if it hurts me. He will not die for me.
Thankfully, neither of us are going to die tonight. I reach for Becca. Pull her magic into me and try not to shudder at how strange it feels. Her magic is truly some strange shade of gray, neither light nor dark. As different as it is, I can still use it and within minutes, Noah’s eyes flutter open.
Relief. I’ve never felt such relief as I do when he finally focuses on my face. Recognizes me. Swallows and tries to sit up. I let go of Becca’s hand and she takes a shaky breath. Stares at me in shock.
I don’t know what to say. Here we sit in the remains of my living room. Blood everywhere, both from our own wounds and the wounds we’ve created. The smell is overwhelming. The body on the other side of the room is appalling.
But we’re alive. All of us. For better or for worse. We’re alive.
Chapter Nineteen
We can’t call the cops, of course. That’s way out of the question. But we call Daya who calls Albert. No one shows up from the vampire camp, which is fine with me. Vampires creep me out.
Albert brings Xavier — the guy who lives behind the desk at the gym, who just happens to be his second. “Hey, lil’ witch,” he says as he walks into my house as if this is something he does every day and it’s not a big deal to find me bleeding in my trashed living room, next to a body and a witch who used to be a vampire.
Xavier’s here to be a set of unbiased eyes as Albert decides if Ty’s death was warranted or not. Apparently, it’s also good training for him since, as second, he’ll be Alpha someday. I store that little bit of info away to deal with later. I’m a little overcooked at the moment. Unable to process new information. But, the one thought I do have is that it’s not really much of a surprise.
Albert stalks around my house and for the first time, I don’t see the happy go lucky, easy going man I’m used to seeing. He’s all four-star general, with straight shoulders and puffed up chest. Hard eyes and razor sharp questions. He kneels beside the body of his wolf, his pack mate, and lowers his chin. Closes his eyes. Places a hand on the shoulders that look so … wrong … without a head sitting above them. A moment of silence for a fallen comrade.
His questions to me are short and clipped. I give him equally short and clipped answers. Not impolite. Just the facts, and all that. Somehow, I think he respects me for it. But, maybe that’s just me, being proud of how well I’m dealing with the conversation. He asks Noah a set of questions. And then Becca. But that’s when things go downhill.
He takes one look at her, literally leans in and sniffs her shoulder, and turns his gaze to me. Purses his lips and clenches his jaw. I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that vampires and humans smell differently and Albert is very aware of the change. He lifts an eyebrow and gives me one hell of a hard look. I feel Daya’s eyes on me and wait for the blush to flare across my cheeks. And just keep on waiting. I return Albert’s look with a lift of my chin. Turn to Daya and meet her gaze with confidence. And the warmth that’s flaring in my chest? That’s not embarrassment, that’s pride.
That’s right. Pride.
My life was in danger tonight. That headless asshole on the floor broke into my home. Ruined my things. Waited for me to come back with the sole intent of killing me. And when he tried? I fought back.
And Becca? She would have killed me, too. She wouldn’t have wanted to, but she said it herself. She has no control over her vampire instincts yet. She stood in my living room, eyes black and hungry, salivating at the blood leaking from my wounds and sank her teeth into my neck. I would have died. But I didn’t. I fought back.
And now? Instead of crumbling into a shaking mess under piercing questions from my superiors I’m meeting their eyes and answering easily. I’m justified in what happened here tonight and I’m able to use my voice to give these people the justifications.
Damn right I’m proud.
Albert’s gonna ask about Becca. And Daya is, too. And I’m probably in for a whole new slew of problems now that my secret’s out, but I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
I catch Albert’s gaze, lift an eyebrow and shift my eyes to Xavier and back. Trying to find out if Xavier is safe. If speaking freely with him in the room is even an option.
“Xavier,” Albert growls, capturing the younger man’s attention. “What you hear in this room isn’t to leave this room without explicit permission from me.” There’s an undercurrent of authority in Albert’s voice and I start to realize just how terribly I’d underestimated his power.
“Yes, Alpha.” The change in Xavier is amazing. The subservience so out of place on his over-muscled, gym-rat body.
And then he asks me what happened to Becca and I explain and Xavier’s eyes go wide and so do Becca’s. I watch her face as I tell the story. Watch as she understands that she’s truly human again. Watch tears form in her eyes and hope shine on her face. I’d love to smile back, but it’s slowly sinking in that I may not have done her any favors.
The vamp’s have half a claim on her. Or had. How in God’s name are we going to explain this to them? I mean, without getting my super-secret, dangerous ability completely out in the open?
And what about her? Becca’s off grid. She’s had a funeral. Her friends and family think she’s dead. And now, suddenly, she’s not? Where will she live? How will she work? The look on her face says she thinks I’ve saved her. I wonder if she’ll feel the same way when she realizes how complicated this actually is.
I get the whole story out and both Becca and Noah corroborate, fill in the gaps. The half-healed bites on my shoulder and neck are examined. “These are going to need an expert,” Daya says as she pokes around the wounds. “We’ll need to get the poisons out so you can heal fully, but you’re always gonna have scars.”
I stare at her in confusion. “Scars? Even with magical healing?”
Daya nods. “These aren’t normal bites, Zoe. A witch can’t easily override the powers of the vampire or the wolf, just like the wolf can’t easily override the powers of a witch or vampire, and the vampire struggles with the witches and wolves. Our strengths work best against humans. We’re not so strong against each other.”
There’s some more discussion that basically comes down to dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. Albert deems the kill a clean one and Xavier nods his approval. So, the wolves won’t be pressing charges on the witches. Which is good. Daya arranges for someone to meet me at Windsor, a healer, and then starts trying to coordinate getting my house cleaned up.
“The wolves will help, too,” says Albert and once again, Xavier nods. “The scent of urine and feces, among other things, is strong.”
I don’t even want to know what those ‘other things’ are. And to be honest, I’m really starting to feel awful. My shoulder aches and my throat burns and, while my head doesn’t really hurt anymore, there’s dried blood in my hair, on my face … well hell. It’d be easier to list the parts of me that aren’t covered in blood. One look at Noah tells me he’s not feeling much better than I am. He’s leaning against the wall, but it doesn’t look at all casual. That wall is definitely holding him up. And his skin is pale and his face is slack and the dark circles under his eyes might as well be caverns.
And then there’s Becca.
She’s slowly been backing away from everyone. The hope on her face dissolving into something much darker. She’s flicking a bit of magic to life with her fingers and then squashing it, almost a nervous tick, but more like she’s checking to see if she still has access to magic. I’m afraid she’s figuring out just how screwed she is and I’m afraid she’s about to panic.
“Daya,” I begin.
She looks to me, follows my gaze to Becca, and then glances at Noah. The compassion on her face almost brings tears to my eyes. For the first time since all of this started, I almost feel like she cares what happens to us. Like I’m not just a pawn in her game. Like I’m a person that matters.
“You guys all look awful,” she says. “I don’t trust a single one of you behind the wheel. Zoe, Noah, I’m going to send you on to Windsor. I need to talk to Becca, but I’ll send her along shortly after.”
I barely have time to nod before I’m zipped out of my house and appear in the infirmary at Windsor. There’s a flurry of activity. Nurses fluttering around me and Noah. Changing our clothes. Washing our wounds. Getting us into bed. I fall asleep to the chanting of spells and the hum of magic in my body.
********
The gentle but incessant rumble of a tiny purr box wakes me and I find Mr. Twinklebottom curled up against my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. For a second, I’m confused, not sure where I am, but that doesn’t last long. The moment my eyes fully open, a nurse leans over me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy.”
The already deep frown lines around her mouth somehow manage to deepen. “Yes. But besides that. How’s your pain?”
I sigh and dutifully twist my neck from side to side. Wiggle my shoulders. “Minimal,” I say, surprised that there’s still any pain left at all.
She nods. A brisk little thing. “Better than we expected. Let us know if your pain increases as you continue to waken.” And, while I’m trying to figure out if she’s using the royal we or if there’s someone else here with her, she pivots on her heel and walks away.
“She’s a delight, isn’t she?” Noah asks from somewhere behind the curtain that’s cordoning my bed off from the rest of the room. There’s a pause and then he slides the curtain back, revealing a much healthier version of the man I love so dearly. Twinks sits up and stretches, pushing his paws against my wounded throat and I flinch.
