The Witch and the Werewolf Page 15

  The wolf leapt into the air, ready to pounce on her, as she turned over. She pushed her palms forward. Blue flame jumped from her hands, catching the wolf in the air. Its body contorted and twisted as it hit the ground, convulsing in pain. She got to her feet and jumped to it, driving the sword down into its chest.

  “That’s right,” she screamed into the night. “Come and get it.”

  The wolves, sensing the demise of three of their brethren, howled in response and she felt them closing on her. The noose tightened. She knew she could take the wolves one on one, but there were dozens in the quarter mile around her. Gunfire and explosions from the church’s ad hoc walls lit up the night in flashes. She saw them in those flashes. Her quick dispatch of three of them had given them caution.

  “Come on, you bastards. Come and get me. You took my mother. You know you want me.”

  A dozen took her challenge and rushed her at once. Her instincts took over and she knelt, driving the silver sword down into the ground. The pavement cracked around the sword, small ruts running out like so much broken grass. The tiny chasms filled with blue energy that flowed out from her body like wavy water. The dozen wolves paused, circling her. She closed eyes and drove the sword further down into the ground. The electric blue energy leapt out, striking the wolves and incinerating them so quickly their bodies didn’t have time to revert to human form. When she finally opened her eyes all she saw was a dozen burnt wolves. The air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh and fur.

  Her body shook. She was exhausted. Two dozen more wolves replaced the ones she’d killed, growling low.

  She got to her feet and dusted herself off. She didn’t know if she could take yet another onslaught. She simply didn’t have the energy in her. She didn’t feel the power rising. So, this is it, she thought. At least I took a few of them down with me.

  And then something stirred in her mind, something she thought she’d killed. The connection wasn’t the same as before. She didn’t feel his emotions, didn’t see his memories. But he was there, nevertheless.

  The circling wolves parted, making way for the female she’d fought on the bridge. The wolves gave her a wide berth and she felt the pack’s respect for the female.

  “Hello old friend,” Cassandra said, drawing her second sword. “I guess you’ve come back for more?”

  The wolf was gone, over the top of the wall and out into the ruins, before Dutch ever got close. He scrambled up the ice, slipping several times, and ended up beside Father O’Leary. The old priest had a maniacal look on his face as he fired an old AK-47.

  “Come on ye furry bastards! Come get us!”

  The men around the priest were petrified, but holding. He peeked over the edge of the wall and watched as a werewolf scrambled up, all snapping jaws and fury. One of the defenders changed his aim, slightly, and put a three round burst into the wolf’s face. It flew backwards, wounds smoking, dead before it hit the ground. The man grinned at his kill just as another wolf made it to the top of the wall and raked him across the face. The claws tore into his skull, scrambling brain matter.

  “Holy mother of god,” O’Leary said, turning his own weapon at the wolf, pulling the trigger, and sending it falling back to the base of the slightly slanted wall. “The damned creatures are everywhere.”

  He turned to Dutch was edging to the opposite side of the wall. “What in god’s green earth do you think you’re doing?”

  “The girl is out there,” Dutch said. “I’m going for her.”

  “The girl has done enough damage as it is,” the priest told him. “Leave her.”

  “Yeah, not happening. The wolf went after her, I’m going to.”

  He started to slide down the wall but the priest grabbed his harness, stopping him. “What did you say?”

  “The wolf is out there hunting for her.”

  “The wolf is dead. My man saw her kill him, saw the corpse.”

  Dutch shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, father. He’s out there somewhere, right now, trying to help her.”

  “He took a bloody silver bullet to the brain. I don’t care how old he is, that would have killed him,” he said, rubbing at his chin. “Could it be? Could he actually be the alpha?”

  “I don’t have time for this, father,” Dutch said, attempting to wrench free from the priest’s grasp. The old man’s grip was amazingly strong, though, and he couldn’t break free. “Let me go.”

  “Listen here, dear boy. I haven’t waited seven hundred years to catch him just to let some witch girl and a mercenary spoil it. I’ve waited so long to have his essence and you are not going to screw it up.”

  The man’s eyes darkened to a black so dark no light would penetrate them.

  “What the hell are you?”

  The priest smiled, showing a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth that looked for all the world like stainless steel.

  “I am death come for your children,” the priest said, flying straight up into the cloud covered, dark night.

  The defenders around him stared in horror, many forgetting there was a battle going on. A wolf took the opportunity of lessened gunfire to leap over the wall. Dutch spun and shot the thing twice, driving it back down the slick slope.

  “Keep shooting,” he ordered, hunkering down on the wall. A werewolf scrambled up the wall just a few feet in front of him, close enough he could smell the thing’s rancid breath. He shot it in the face and watched as it slid back down to the base of the wall, adding to the rapidly growing pile of human bodies there. “Keep them out of the compound.”

  He started, once more, to crawl over the edge of the wall, intending on searching out Cassandra. One of the defenders stopped him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The girl needs me.”

  “We need you,” the haggard looking man insisted. “We can’t do this on our own, not with…” he pointed up into the sky, not wanting to actually say what he thought about the old priest. “You’re the only real soldier here.”

  Dutch sighed. He knew the man was right. They probably wouldn’t survive anyway, but they definitely wouldn’t survive without help.

  I’m sorry Cassandra, he thought sadly, sighting through the scope of his rifle and adding his fire to the mix. I wanted to help you.

  Jeremy watched the battle from inside the ship, watching the colors of war through the wall. There were so many wolves that their brownish black color ran together, muting their form and making it look like a massive blob was attacking the fortified church. With the ability to see through the ship’s walls the entire battlefield looked like a giant computer simulation.

  He watched as Cassandra fought the beasts, surrounded all the time, her silver swords flashing like lightning. He watched as she drove one of the blades into the ground and a blue blast wave leapt out, incinerating the wolves around her. She was amazing, fighting like a warrior queen from a comic book, but she was badly outnumbered. He stood and began making his way towards the ramp that led down into the church’s courtyard.

  He then saw the thing that claimed to be a priest leap up into the night, flying away like a superhero. More like a super villain, he thought. The thing was not human and Jeremy didn’t care what anyone said, he was sure it was evil. Dutch seemed like a good guy and his trust in the creature surprised him. He was on the wall, trying to direct the battle the best he could as the creatures swarmed around the pinprick of light that was Cassandra. The creature flying into the battle only confirmed what he already knew. Cassandra needed his help.

  As he walked he felt a change inside his body. Energy stirred there, much like when he’d watched Cassandra work her magic. It felt like a fire burning in his stomach but was not altogether unpleasant. He felt… powerful. The power coursed through his veins and he knew, even without normal sight, that he could fight them on the field.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” the woman who’d been charged with keeping the children corralled asked.

  “I have to go
help her,” Jeremy said softly, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He didn’t want to go outside. He didn’t want to look at another wolf. But Cassandra, despite her bravery, couldn’t do it on her own. And the power in him… he could use it like she did. He didn’t have to be the poor little blind kid. He could fight the wolves.

  “That’s mighty brave of you, son, but you can’t go out there. Don’t worry. The father will protect us, just like he has all along.”

  “The priest is a monster. I’m not sure what sort of monster, but he is. I wouldn’t trust him.”

  The woman laughed, dismissing him. The fire burned in his belly. “Oh? And how would you know that, sweetie?”

  “I can see his colors.”

  She laughed again. “Just sit down, son. This will all be over in a few hours.”

  The woman was green at her core and he knew she meant well. He felt sorry for her. He was only a kid but he knew things would never, ever be the same. They’d never go back to the world they left a few nights ago. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “There is no reason to be sorry, kiddo. We’re all under a lot of stress. So just go sit down.”

  “I’m not sorry about that. I’m right about the priest. He’s some sort of monster.”

  “Then what are you sorry about?”

  The force flowed up through his abdomen into his hands. It was only a fraction of what Cassandra could do. But he watched as the vivid red color pushed out from his hand. The wave of energy was invisible to the woman, but hit her in the gut like a hammer. She flew backwards, slamming into a bulkhead. Jeremy was relieved that he hadn’t killed her. The other survivors in the ship’s hold made a wide alley for him to walk through.

  He knew what he was and it finally made sense that he and Cassandra had, somehow, found each other.

  He was also a witch.

  “Fill that gap!” Dutch hollered down the line. “Fill that gap right there!”

  The only things keeping the wolves out of the church’s compound were the steady stream of silver laced death and the ice covered slope of the ad hoc wall thrown up around ship and buildings. The wall was tall enough that the wolves couldn’t leap over it easily. They were still tearing up the line, though, scrambling to the top and dragging the hapless defenders back down with them. Dutch fired at a wolf trying to claw his way up the embankment towards the gap left by dead defender. The wolf snarled and snapped but the other men and women directed their fire to the wolf, ripping it apart with silver laced ammunition.

  The wolf’s head exploded, its body instantly reverting back to human form, and slid down the wall.

  Brilliant blue light erupted from out in the ruins followed by a sonic boom and the howl of the wolves.

  “Good luck, Cassandra,” he whispered, looking for his next target.

  Jeremy’s feet didn’t touch the ice covered ground as he leapt into the air. It wasn’t just a jump, though, like Cassandra or the wolves. When he ended up high in the sky above the Church of the Dead Wolf he was actually flying.

  It was the single most exhilarating experience of his life.

  He soared through the air, hands stretched out in front of him, imagining himself to be a hero from a comic book. The colors of the battle below turned to tiny pinpricks of light as he climbed ever higher. He soon hit the thick layer of black clouds and the dust and ash stung at his skin and eyes. He pushed higher, easily manipulating the energy his body produced, and shot out of the top of the cloud bank.

  It had only been a couple of days, but he’d already started forgetting what the sun felt like on his face. He stopped, levitating for a few moments, soaking it in.

  He was distracted by the sweet sunlight and didn’t sense the priest thing before it slammed into him, driving him back down into the cloud bank.

  “I didn’t realize you were a witch too,” the thing hissed at him, arms wrapped around his body, face to his face. The priest had changed considerably since Jeremy had first seen him. The rows of razor sharp teeth glittered with a silver aura and his eyes were black as night. “Had I known, we could have skipped the pretense and gone straight to the part of me stealing your soul.”

  “What are you?” Jeremy screamed, trying to struggle out of the thing’s grip.

  “I am the bringer of night, the eater of souls. I take you, into me, and you become me. I can smell your power. Interesting that it just blossomed all at once like this. I will have it nevertheless.”

  Jeremy closed his eyes and pooled the energy in the pit of his being. He expelled it at once in a bright blue flash, lighting up the night sky and sending the priest flying away from him. The beast that was O’Leary screamed out in pain, patting out the blue flames burning on his robes.

  “That is how you would play? Fine, boy. Taste real Witch Fire.”

  The priest pushed his hands out in front of him, like he was pushing an object away, and red energy burst forth. Jeremy raised his hands to protect his face just as the red energy hit. He wasn’t burned, however, as a shield much like the one that enveloped him and Cassandra on the day of Worm fall blocked the flames.

  “Tell me what you are,” young Jeremy growled, building energy for another shot at the priest.

  “You will find out soon enough, boy.”

  Jeremy stretched out his right hand, smiling as the priest watched it. With his left he hurled a blue ball of fire at the thing as if it were a high speed burning baseball. The shot took O’Leary in the face, sending him flipping end over end in the air.

  “Bollocks,” the thing hissed, wiping the flames from his face. “I’ll come back for you after I’ve absorbed the witches and the girl.”

  The priest started to flee. Jeremy panicked. If the thing could absorb powers from other creatures he would be too powerful to fight soon. He shot off like a missile, slamming into the priest’s back.

  “Our fight isn’t over yet,” Jeremy said with a wicked grin.

  “So be it,” the wraith told him. “Prepare to die.”

  They circled each other as the other wolves watched. Her and the she-wolf. She wasn’t sure why this female was singling her out, but it didn’t matter much.

  Time was wasting.

  The she-wolf lunged at her and Cassandra, as exhausted as she was, just managed to step out her way. The wolf missed her and slid across the icy pavement, coming to a stop and then tried to turn. She couldn’t quite get traction and stumbled. Cassandra took the opportunity to run at her, both blades drawn and forward.

  The she-wolf managed to get her feet under her and, seeing the two feet of silver death in each of Cassandra’s hands, jumped over the girl. As she passed overhead Cassandra just managed to get the blade in her right hand high enough to make contact. The tip of the blade barely caught the she wolf’s belly, but it was enough that the force of her passage overhead laid her gut open with a smoking wound. The wolf hit the ice behind Cassandra, howling in pain, her body convulsing and reverting to her human form.

  Cassandra turned, prepared to finish the wolf off, and then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the woman.

  The woman was covered in mud and grime. Her skin was bruised and battered. Her abdomen wound smoked. But it was her mother.

  “Oh my god,” Cassandra whispered in shock, dropping her swords. “Mom?”

  She rushed to her mother’s side and moved the hair from her face. It was her mother, alive. The woman looked up with wild eyes, shock etched in her face. Cassandra took her head in her lap, cradling her.

  “Mom? It’s me. It’s Cass.”

  Her mother panicked when she saw her daughter, batting at her face and trying to push away from her.

  “It’s okay mom, it’s me. I’m here. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Who are you?” the woman demanded, confused.

  “It’s me, mom. Your daughter, Cassandra.”

  Her mother pushed away from her, standing and holding her sides. She looked around in wide eyed panic as the wolves began circling. There weren’t just on
e or two dozen, at that point. There were at least fifty. Cassandra knew she wouldn’t live much longer. A naked man, covered in prison ink and heavily muscled, walked into the circle of wolves, clapping his hands.

  “Wow,” the man said. “Who would have seen that coming? I mean, that’s Hallmark channel stuff right there. Lost daughter reunited with mother who’s now a werewolf… wow,” the man said, still clapping. “A Hollywood screenwriter couldn’t have written a better script!”

  Cassandra stood, scooping up the swords, and turned to face the man. “Who are you and what have you done to my mother?”

  “I am the leader of this little pack and, sadly enough, I didn’t plan this. Don’t get me wrong. I would have loved to claim responsibility for this, but I just can’t. I’ve turned many in the last day, but she was already a member of the pack when I replaced the former manager.”

  “She’s coming with me,” Cassandra said, deadly serious. “If you get in my way I will kill you.”

  “I’ve got about fifty wolves right here that disagree,” the alpha said. “Not only are you not taking my female, you’re going to join the pack. I knew there was something about her that made her different. I didn’t think that something was her being a witch. It seems your kind make ferocious wolves. I’d promise that it wouldn’t hurt but I’d be lying.”

  Cassandra steeled herself, trying to calm her nerves and prepare for the coming battle. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “That too, can be arranged,” the alpha said, nodding for his wolves to rush forward.

  Cassandra stood her ground though she wanted to run away screaming. Her mother cowered before the rushing pack. Just as the first wolf was almost atop her, though, a shape blurred through the oncoming lines. Wolves went flying as if they were no more than children’s toys. With a roar that rivaled any she’d heard, the alpha she thought she’d killed just minutes before emerged at her side. His wolf form towered above all of the others and he crouched low, ready.