Junk magic, p.39
Junk Magic, page 39
“Thank you.”
The four combatants staggered back a moment later, and fell off the side of the building, with the shades, or ghosts as they were slowly becoming, clinging to the disintegrating body like remoras to the sides of a whale.
I didn’t hear them hit down; I didn’t know that there was enough left to hit down.
But I heard something else.
“We have another problem,” Sophie said, not even commenting on my new form in her panic. “It’s why we came up here to get you.”
“I know.”
A look through the ruined window showed that things in the banquet hall were falling apart. I didn’t know where Danny had put the potion he’d been saving up, but it had reached a lot of people. Maybe the wine—it didn’t matter.
What did matter was that people were Changing all over the expansive ballroom, and not into Weres.
New Relics were being born everywhere, bursting out of their finery to tower over the crowd, screaming their birth pangs at the skies. And then immediately attacking everyone in the vicinity, who were Changing, too, as the extent of the danger became clear. But it didn’t matter; a regular Were couldn’t stand against these things, as I’d just found out.
Which was why I felt a scream building in my throat when Whirlwind Changed, his already altered form bulging and twisting as something even more ferocious was born—
And immediately leapt straight at the hunched body of Cyrus.
I heard the girls’ scream beside me, felt my body go cold, saw my paw slam against the glass, seeing shards cascade down into the ballroom like falling jewels—
And then I let it out, putting everything I had into it, giving off all my terror, all my desperation, all my hopes in one, long, earsplitting howl.
It was loud enough to have the girls covering their ears in pain, to have more glass shiver out of its panes and fall to the floor, to have me feeling like I’d coughed up part of my soul as it echoed and echoed and echoed . . .
And did nothing else. Except to cause a lot of the assembled Weres to fall back into human form, dazed and in some cases stunned, while their attackers remained untouched. My gift hadn’t worked before because it didn’t work on Relics, I realized, and then Cyrus went flying at the wall.
He hit hard enough to break every bone in his body, and to leave me choking on the end of my cry. But his bones didn’t break. I knew that because, at the same second, he Changed.
And what came off of the wall wasn’t Cyrus.
Instead, the biggest, most terrible Relic of them all hit the floor and caught the creature that had been Whirlwind halfway through a leap. And bit down—but only once. Because once was all it took.
Whirlwind’s altered form fell to the ground in two pieces and Cyrus, or what had been Cyrus, stood up to his full, towering height and roared at the room. And if I’d thought my puny shout was anything, I was now learning how wrong that had been. His call was loud enough to shatter glasses like miniature fireworks popping all over the room, to send cracks running up the newly painted walls, and to break the remaining panes in the pyramid and send them pelting down like golden rain.
It also caught the attention of every Relic in the room, all of whom paused their own fights to look at him, expressions of surprise and then of something else on their features.
One by one they moved away from their victims and toward the summons. Because that was what it had been, I realized, as each took a knee in front of him. The mass of Relics had found their captain and were awaiting instructions.
That would have been wonderful, only this wasn’t Cyrus anymore. I didn’t know who this was, and in all likelihood, neither did he. Because Jenkins had said that his potion should allow a person to think through it, at least in a basic way, but I hadn’t had too much success with that.
Neither had Colin.
And now the alpha of alphas had manifested, and was about to send his troops to rip everyone else apart.
And there was only one thing left to do about it.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Sophie yelled, because she knew what my suddenly bunched muscles meant.
I didn’t have time to reply. I jumped through the now open roof, fell three stories, and landed right at Cyrus’s feet. And looked up, searching desperately for some sign that my lover was still in there, just in another guise.
I didn’t find one.
The room had gone silent, except for the heavy breathing of the Relics. Nobody spoke; nobody moved. Including Cyrus, who was completely unrecognizable, and yet who hadn’t immediately gone for my throat.
That could have been surprise, at someone being foolish enough to deliberately put themselves in harm’s way. Or it could be something else, some sliver of memory, or maybe only a sliver of scent, because he had never seen me in this form. But I knew how powerful scent was to Weres.
So, I took a chance. And instead of backing up or attempting to talk, or doing anything human, I did what my wolf had done when first meeting his. She’d been coy and cute, and played around for a while, but then she’d gotten down to business, winding her body around his, letting her scent fill his nose, letting him feel her warmth and strength and softness as she brushed against him.
I did the same, first looking into those horrible, yellowish eyes, and then not looking into them. Because I didn’t need to keep an eye on him. I wasn’t an enemy; I was his mate. And he would remember that, he would smell me, feel me, know me, if he would ever know anyone at all.
For a long moment, nothing happened. I didn’t know if that was good or not; if he was just struck dumb by someone being insane enough to try this in the middle of a massacre. But I kept on doing it, and added little flourishes as I went along: a tickle of a bushy tail here, as my mother had sometimes done to me, a slow slide against that horrible hide there; and then a short walk away, to sit cleaning a paw with my back to him, because I wasn’t worried.
I was Lupa, and he needed to remember that. To woo me, to placate me, to greet me properly, as he still had not done. Come on, I thought, not turning around. Even when I felt a presence come up behind me, even when I tasted that terrible breath on my neck. I just sat there, unable to do anymore, because I couldn’t take him in battle.
And not just because I physically wasn’t strong enough. But because he was Cyrus and I loved him. I couldn’t hurt him; I could never hurt him. We who had been through so much together, who shared a bond that the accepted, the loved, the approved members of society could never know . . . no, I couldn’t hurt him.
So, he would know me or he wouldn’t.
There was nothing else.
Other than for a weird snuffling behind my head, a great snout poking into my face, and a paw—massive and horrible and with claws like daggers, softly patting at me, trying to get my attention.
I felt dizzy with relief, but also felt another emotion. Because my wolf . . . was not pleased. She turned an annoyed shoulder to him, because he’d taken too long to acknowledge her, and that was unacceptable.
He pawed a bit more, and then whined, low in his throat, because she was being mean, she wasn’t giving in. She left him like that for a long moment, letting him worry, letting him stew. Unbothered by any chance that it might make him mad, because it was her anger he had to worry about, her pique that must be satisfied.
And then it was, and she turned and playfully leapt around him, bouncy and happy once more with her mate at her side. And then he was doing it, too, carnage forgotten, because it was play time. And time to introduce her to the rest of the pack he’d found.
They quickly slunk forward, heaving great monsters with heads low in obeisance, to sniff her paw and to make the acquaintance of their new Lupa, their new queen.
And then to follow her, as their captain was doing, up the walls of the ruined room, out onto the roof, and down, leaping onto the concrete. A few stopped to sniff the scraps of flesh littering the ground, all that was left of another of their kind. But he wasn’t pack; didn’t matter. And Lupa wanted to run!
They ran after her, joyously burning up the concrete and then the pavement and then the sands of the desert as the hateful city fell away, and the open skies beyond beckoned them. The stars burned overhead, a glorious full arc, and the scents of the desert caught their attention, as a whole world opened up to them. Their captain bayed his happiness at the moon, the mate of his choice at his side, and declared the night to be theirs, and theirs alone.
Chapter Forty
I awoke in a cave, somewhere in the Nevada desert. It wasn’t a nice cave. There were animal bones in it, some looking disturbingly fresh. There was scat in it, thankfully not fresh, and toward the back. And there was a man in it.
A naked man.
He was considerably nicer than the rest of the cave, with a long, lean, well-muscled body, a light mat of brown hair on his chest, and a thicker, tousled mop on his head. His face looked like he hadn’t shaved in three days, but that was simply because he was a Were who had left his razor at home. I kissed him, and he had morning breath, and also possibly dead animal breath, if the bones were of some feast that we’d shared the night before.
I was terribly afraid that they were, and that I had a tiny bit of rabbit fur caught behind a molar.
“I think I ate a bunny,” I told him tearfully, when we broke apart.
He laughed, all white teeth in a suntanned face, and kissed me again. And it was so good, so full of so many things: fear, relief, joy and happiness. And most of all the love that had saved the day when violence couldn’t, that I didn’t even care about the breath.
Much.
And then someone was yelling from outside.
I crawled over Cyrus and poked a head out, since I was as buck ass nude as Eve. And saw a lot of other naked people wandering around, looking dazed and confused, probably about being out in the middle of the desert when they were supposed to be sleeping off the excesses of the night before. Only last night had held a bit more excess than usual.
I looked back at Cyrus, who appeared to be admiring my butt, and shoved him a little with a foot. “You gonna tell them or am I?”
“Tell who what?”
He poked his head out. And then, very quickly, drew it back in again. “Coward,” I said.
“I defeated Whirlwind,” he whined. “Don’t I get some consideration for that?”
“Consideration meaning?”
He batted eyelashes at me that were longer and thicker than any man had a right to. “Could you maybe deal with this? You’re so much better at explaining things than I am.”
I sighed, and pondered logistics. Because I was not going out there naked; I didn’t care how common that was for Weres. But I wasn’t seeing a lot of other choices.
And then I heard one, because somebody was approaching on what sounded like a vehicle gasping its last. Another quick peek, and it turned out to be Caleb and the kids, in the ‘school bus’ he’d stolen from the Corps. They were throwing clothes out of the windows to the poor unfortunate ex-Relics, who seemed glad to get them.
I waved an arm.
And shortly afterward had a clump of cotton tossed to me, because the cave was a little way up a hill.
It turned out to be jeans and a western shirt in Cyrus’s size, and jeans and a loose fitting, cotton V-neck in mine. There was no underwear for either of us, but I didn’t feel like complaining. I emerged first and stood there, blinking in the sunlight, and then picked my way down the hill to where Caleb was waiting for me.
I hugged him, which wasn’t protocol, but screw it, he’d brought me jeans.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“Not making me have to hitchhike back to Vegas in the nude.”
“Oh. I thought it was for leading a raid—with a concussion, I might add—on a Circle establishment riddled with traitors.”
“That too.”
I kissed his cheek, which seemed to surprise him, and then I swear he blushed. I would have ribbed him for that, but I was feeling too good. And then the moment was lost when half a dozen shiny black jeeps and SUVs came bumping over the rocky ground, I assumed courtesy of the council.
Sophie came up and handed Cyrus, who had emerged after me still pulling on his shirt, a phone. “Sebastian,” she said, and he nodded and walked a little way off.
I sat with Caleb on the side of the hill as water and tea and juices were handed out, along with a variety of sandwiches.
“Thank you,” Caleb said, grinning at a pretty brown girl with ringlets.
Right before he discovered that his sandwich was mostly made out of cucumber.
“What? Just because I’m the human, I get the shit sandwich?” he called after her, and she tossed him a pert look over her shoulder.
I traded him for my ham and Swiss.
The least I could do was eat the rabbit food, since I’d already had the rabbit.
“Am I still wanted?” I asked, after some chewing.
“No. The camera feeds at the base exonerated you. Clear cut case of self-defense if I ever saw one, although the way you took down that medic was a bit . . . extreme.”
I laughed, and then kept on laughing at the look on his face, until I got a piece of watercress stuck in my throat and almost choked.
Extreme.
Yeah.
I was gonna need a new definition for that one.
And then something occurred to me. I sat there, chewing cress and cucumber and cream cheese, and flexed a hand, summoning an apple from a basket a guy was passing around. It was sluggish, because my call had been tentative, but the fruit moved.
And then zoomed into my hand when I tightened my grip, and pulled.
“Still hungry?” Caleb asked, with a raised brow.
“Wait,” I said, and looked at my other hand.
It was dirty and had some disturbing stuff caught under the nails that I decided not to think about. But that didn’t matter. Only one thing did, and I licked my lips, wondering if I wanted to know.
But I had to. I couldn’t live like this anymore, not knowing who or what the hell I was. Not after last night.
I concentrated, and it was easier than I’d expected. As easy as it had looked when mother had sometimes transformed her legs only, to give her extra height to reach something off of a shelf, and then shrank back down as if nothing had happened. Only in my case, it was a paw, with black fur and long, dark nails.
“Son of a bitch!” Caleb said, scrambling back. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I said, as I looked from one hand to the other. “Nothing at all.”
“Could have fooled me!”
“It’s . . . a long story,” I said, looking up at him. “But you need to trust me; this is wonderful. A cure for a terrible disease. Or it might be, if Jenkins left any records intact.”
“He left them,” Caleb said. “The loyal Corpsmen locked everything down once the situation you created was contained. They were subsequently attacked by the others, but followed procedure and sealed themselves behind the lab’s wards until we came to sort everything out. Whatever he had, it’s still in there.”
“Good. Jenkins did a lot of terrible things for his research. It would be nice if at least something good came out of it.”
“Uh huh.” Caleb was still looking at my hand. “Does that . . . come off?”
Cyrus came up and deliberately kissed my Were hand, then sat down as I let it melt away. “Thought Weres couldn’t do magic,” he said, crunching my apple.
“Guess I’m the exception.”
“Always were,” he said, and kissed me.
It tasted better with apple, I decided, and deepened it.
“Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Caleb said.
But no one did.
* * *
Half an hour later, everyone had been rounded up and accounted for, and we were riding back to town in the old van turned school bus. Caleb was driving, but kept shooting me glances, probably wondering how to mention all this in a report and whether or not he should even try. I left that up to him.
I was who I was, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I was good with that.
“What did Sebastian have to say?” Sophie asked, leaning forward from a middle seat.
“A lot of things,” Caleb informed her. “No one else feels like challenging—”
“I bet.”
“—and as a result, he’s bardric for another year and the alliance with the Circle has been confirmed.”
“So, basically, everything stays the same?”
“No. No, it does not.”
I’d been looking out the window, watching the desert stream by, and enjoying the scent parade. I’d been able to tell where we’d caught the unfortunate rabbit, where we’d scampered around and over a hill, what had to be a dozen times, chasing each other in joyous abandon, and where we’d paused to—
Huh. Well. I guessed our beasts knew each other pretty well now, all things considered.
But at Cyrus’s comment, I turned to look at him. “What?”
He had a look on his face that I wasn’t sure how to read. Happy but anxious, excited but wary, hopeful but unsure. He saw me noticing and gave me a kiss on the top of my head.
Weres were always touchy feely, but today he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me. I didn’t mind, but it showed even more than his expression what he was feeling, and that he needed reassurance. I covered his hand with mine.
“I proposed an idea I had, and Sebastian accepted,” he said.
“What kind of idea?”
“You told me what Danny said.”
I nodded. We’d caught up, briefly, while everybody loaded into the vehicles, although there were a lot of pieces yet to be filled in. However, I’d given him and Caleb the basics, Caleb for his report and Cyrus . . .
Because Danny had been one of his. Maybe it had all been for show, to keep close to the boys he was cultivating, I didn’t know. Or maybe he’d had some feeling for the one man who had actually cared. I thought I’d seen a glimpse of that, a time or two.
