Halfway Bitten (22 page)

Moonrise. It’s a special moment for me, every time. There’s a glow at the horizon as Luna peeks in to see if the coast is clear before beginning her nightly arc, and then a wedge of brilliance floods the sky. Sometimes it’s a sliver, but tonight it was a glorious orb of light so intense it cast blue shadows in sharp relief. I turned my face upward to let my senses roam, and decided that yes, I could feel the moonwash on my skin through the kitchen window. I slipped my lucky shirt over my head, wondering how much longer we had together. It was black, well-worn, and had iron-on white letters that read
Mad Scientist
across the chest; I’d had it made in a mall when I was twelve, and we’ve been quite happy together ever since. Before you ask—no, I haven’t grown since seventh grade, and no, I don’t regret it. I save money on clothes and am in love with a tall man. In my eyes, the problem is solved, and I’ll cheerfully continue shopping the junior’s section until I experience a rogue growth spurt or hit seventy years of age.

My Docs were laced, charms hung around my wrist with familiar heft, and there was no reason I shouldn’t step outside into the night. So I did. I scratched Gus, who watched silently from the hall, before granting me a head butt and rumbling purr.

“See you soon,” I told him brightly, before I pulled open the door. If he suspected my case of nerves, it didn’t show. He ignored me in the exact same manner as when I leave for work, thus proving that cats can make you feel like everything is fine simply by doing nothing. The air outside was cool and moist, almost delicate in my lungs. Somewhere, a stubborn nighthawk trilled its pleasure at flying wild and, though I couldn’t see her, I sent a small prayer her way that good skies would hold until sunrise. She dipped her wings once, squirting a liquid song from on high before moving out of earshot. There were things to do in the sky, and she had places to be. The resulting silence filled my senses, and I seized the familiar
clop clop
of my boots as a point of focus, gathering my will around me as I made my way to Gran’s.

She was waiting for me, as expected. She stood next to the ash tree, her tall shape bathed in the moonlight, and the image was of a much younger woman in a long blue gown. I took a moment to admire her as I approached across the damp lawn, my feet leaving a dark smear in the lively dew that glistened underfoot. The moon cast her hair in a silvered crown; she was unbent and radiating intelligent curiosity as I approached. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding as I realized that some part of me feared her aging, but that same awareness spoke to me again, and I let the worry of her mounting years slip from my consciousness. This was Gran, in the full bloom of her power. I stood alongside her, and somewhere in the dark would be Wulfric, stalking the very predators with which he shared half of his blood. The stars alone knew where he was or if he would meet us, but Gran took my hand with a smile and the last of my fear was replaced with tense excitement.

“Let’s walk, shall we?” Gran held my arm as we turned north to what waited there in the darkness.

“Who do you think they are?” I asked, and even to my own ears I sounded composed. That was either pride or stupidity. I wouldn’t know which until later.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Gran began, her tone pensive and measured. “I’m not sure it matters, as long as we’re here together.”

“It doesn’t? Why?” That surprised me. She’d preached the value of preparation since I was old enough to heat water with my magic. To suddenly become careless was a radical departure in her attitude.

“You won’t remember this, but when you were three years old you escaped from your kitchen while we were all making pickles. By the time we noticed you were gone, you’d made it all the way to Pigeon Brook. Do you have any memory of that?” she asked.

Pigeon Brook was a small, quick stream a hundred yards behind my house. To an adult, it was a running jump to cross it. To a toddler, it was something else. I whistled appreciatively, then shook my head. I guess I’d been something of a stinker.

“We found you, balanced on a log and preparing to leap. I thought your mother would
die
, but your father was smiling once he saw where you were. He laughed and told you to jump—the water was less than a foot deep, and it was late April, so you know how cold it can be,” Gran said with a grin. “I think he saw it as a potential lesson.”

“That water is like glacier runoff.” Pigeon Brook was never
warm
. It was shaded and cool even in the heat of summer. “Did I jump?”

“Not at first. Your mother told you in no uncertain terms that if you jumped into that brook with your good clothes on, she would spank your bottom. Your father knew not to intervene, as he’d been lobbying for you to go ahead and do it. Well, you thought it over, gave a tiny nod—it was so adult of you—and calmly began to undress, right down to your teddy bear socks and good sneakers. You folded everything neatly, drew in a breath, and stepped out onto the end of the log.”

“Oh, stars above. I
did
?” I laughed out loud at the thought of my audacious former self.

“Did you ever. And then your mother repeated her threat. I think she wanted to give you an out, just in case you wavered at all, but you looked at her, set your little jaw, and told us in your tiny voice ‘
I radder take a spankin!
’ While we caught our breath, you gave us a rather adorable stinkeye and flopped down in the creek to let it run right over your little body. You kicked and hooted in absolute joy, until your father pulled you dripping from the water.” She sighed, then pulled my arm closer to her. “I told your mother if that was any indication of the woman you would grow to be, we’d never be in fear once you’d gone into the wider world. You were so brave. You still are.”

“I don’t understand. Why does that matter now?” I didn’t see the link between years and memory.

“You couldn’t see under the water, but you jumped anyway, and we all knew that in your tiny, rebellious heart, you knew the odds. You sensed that brook was something to explore, even though it was unknown and possibly dangerous, but even in the middle of such a wanton act of rebellion, you took care. You folded your clothes—or, as well as a three year old can, in any case, and you measured the situation in your little mind. I swear, child, I could
hear
the gears turning as you decided to jump. I knew that if you ever became a witch, you would make the right decisions, even under duress, and so
that
is why we’re walking toward this unknown threat without an air of fear hanging over us. Because I know who I am, Carlie, and I also know who you are. The woman you’ve grown into is beyond my wildest hopes and dreams.” She pointed ahead to the caravan of vehicles. “No matter what waits, I have faith in you. In your heart. And your power.”

Tears misted my eyes as Gran went quiet. To hear such things from her was beyond generous. My heart was full, even though we walked to defend our lands against an evil of unknown quality.

The circus was a half mile away. We could see the lights beginning to wink out as the show closed down. From our vantage, the main tent was already gone, a feat of engineering that regular humans could not have achieved. We would arrive into something like quarter light, but that was to our advantage. If Wulfric was joining us, his night vision would be in full effect. With my power surging, I too would be able to sense the world around me, and Gran didn’t need anything, save starlight. The moon above was a surfeit of white glare that was more than ample for what we needed to do.

“I’m glad Mathieu will not see this,” Gran said into the quiet.

“He’s sleeping?” I asked. It seemed to be the only reason she would leave a vampire in the throes of hunger loose in her home.

“In a sense. I placed a geas upon him, and then dosed him into a stupor with the decoction of foxglove, valerian, and lavender. He’ll be groggy and calm for three or four hours, and after that we shall see what can be done about his future.” Gran’s prim assessment of her work left little doubt that Mathieu hit the lottery in finding her. If anyone could help him, it would be her. We were close now, and Gran lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “We’ll want to make certain—”

The vampire struck from our left, streaking out of the moonlight like a wild meteor. I hadn’t time to raise my charm bracelet, but Gran uttered a spell of shielding that deflected the beast at an angle, like a stone off water. It howled away into the night, injured and furious.

“Back to back, Carlie.” Gran’s voice was composed and even. “You must reach out with your power, now. I shall defend us. Clear your mind and push.” With that, she spread her arms wide and shouted, “
Balla clap sgiathan
!”

Dark shimmers leapt instantly from Gran’s hands into a spreading wall of fluttering shapes. Bird wings of pure magical energy began to roar with motion until they formed a circular defense around us nearly ten yards away. The noise was like a distant ocean, rushing past my senses in a cacophony of rustles that built to a crescendo as the wall took a nearly solid form, then bloomed outward into a dome above our heads in a protective bowl of glowing, feathered shapes that pulsed to and fro in a rhythmic dance. Gran’s face was a mask of concentration, and I knew it was my turn. Before I could raise my charms, a pair of clowns shrieked in toward us like painted missiles, fangs out and glistening in the moonlight. They smacked into the magical defenses with the force of a bomb, only to be repulsed before skidding backward in the soft turf.

But vampires are tough.

As they rose to their feet, more shapes began to emerge from the night and I saw that we’d made a mistake. I should have attempted the defenses and let Gran take the wheel with her offensive magic, but there was no way to switch our roles when we were being surrounded by a gaggle of hissing bloodsuckers. All in all, I thought the night was going down the tubes in a hurry, but Gran hates a complainer, so I lifted my arm, set my charms in motion with a thought, and cut loose with a scream.

Okay, so the scream was a bit theatrical, but the beam of sun that poured from my fingers was anything but fluff. It struck two vampires squarely, incinerating them in a
whump
of brilliant yellow glare that illuminated the area like high noon.

“Two down!” I grunted, weaving my next spellstrike from the charm shaped like an inverted ankh.

“That’s good, dear. But you did happen to notice their friends when the sky lit up?” Gran asked, conversationally.

Had I. There were dozens of vampires slithering out of the long line of campers that made up the circus caravan. Doors were flung open with metallic shrieks as more undead began to fly toward us with murderous intent. The first hint of doubt took aim at my spine and grabbed, leaving me queasy and off balance as I cut loose my next spellstrike at a clump of vampires that were attempting to scale the magical wall Gran held in place with grim determination. The beam hit one vampire in a bony shoulder, then skipped to the left, only to terminate in the chest of a lanky clown with green hair and an executioner’s grin. He squealed in pain before erupting into a maelstrom of winking flames, then exploded outward in a cloud of fine ash. Four down, dozens to go.
Where was Wulfric?
I began to feel his absence even as I raised both arms to unleash a blast of air. We needed some breathing room, and a gale force wind would push the vampires back enough that I could catch my breath.

I was distracted by an explosion of purple faerie fire behind me and to the left. A frigid wind blew inward to chill my skin, and I was compelled to look for the source.

“Their coffins, Carlie. As they die, their coffins are imploding. Don’t lose focus!” Gran’s voice crackled with authority, and I tore my eyes away from the spectacle of a vintage trailer going up in a torrent of unearthly fire. It was pretty, but I hadn’t the time to admire it because a tall shape began to loom in the flickering shadows of the dying fire, walking toward us in a manner that was calm and predatory.

The ringmaster had come out to play.

The ringmaster was in no hurry. He didn’t walk, he strolled toward us as if he hadn’t a care in the world, even batting aside a marauding vampire with a casual backhand that sent the lesser being whistling through the air like a toy. His eyes simmered with malevolent intelligence, and I noticed that he was clad in fine woolen breeches and a vest over his pale flesh. He looked decidedly old-fashioned in the way of a merchant, or a well-to-do settler, right down to the silver buckles on his black boots. Even his accent was vaguely uppercrust, leaving it easy for me to dislike him on sight.

He awarded us with a patronizing smile. “This could have all been avoided, of course, if you’d merely let us conduct our business and move on.” His tone was that of a disappointed father, and I felt myself bristle at the idea he could know
anything
about the McEwan witches.

“You mean kill and feed on our land? I don’t think so, buddy.” My voice was edged in steel, and Gran merely laughed. She did enjoy the occasional chance to stretch her wings, so to speak.

“My tendency toward showmanship will have to be bypassed, I’m afraid.” With that, he raised one finger as liquid fire lanced forth in a dazzling jet. The blaze splashed over our protective dome and rang the entire fluttering structure like a bell, while the air flared into a heated wave at such a devastating display of power. Playing his arm back and forth, the fire danced across the nebulous force of Gran’s spell in showers of white sparks. Rolling tongues of flame leapt skyward to vanish some yards above us, and the noise was like a train bearing down on us in the night.

He was far more than a vampire. I could identify him as a sorcerer of the first order, and he meant to roast us alive. The heat began to build within our zone of protection as fingers of flame made incursions underneath the bottom edge of Gran’s magical barrier. All the while, more hooting vampires began to seek weak spots in our defenses. The cracking impact of their attacks shook the air around us, and our quiet air was shrinking as each blow caused our safe place to contract. They threw themselves against the barrier with compete disregard, but their self-inflicted wounds were healing as fast as they happened. Vamps are tricky that way.

“It’s coming under like water through a dam, Gran,” I said through gritted teeth. I loosed another bolt of merciless sunlight into a tall vampire wearing a purple coat and high brown riding boots. He leapt upward in an attempt to dodge the strike, but my spell spread like a peony to envelop him in a glowing cloud of magic. With a showy explosion, his ashes were launched outward in a ring, even as his scream died in my ears. I looked at the utter chaos and realized that, despite the noise and light and fear, we were winning. The vampires were too crazed to use logic; the mere presence of witch blood seemed to drive them beyond reason into the heights of lustful madness.

The ringmaster barked an order over the growing maelstrom, and three vampires snapped to listen, then flowed apart in different directions like oil over water. Their own orders began to ring out in hissing shrieks as the ringmaster tried to assert control over the entire scene. I knew at once the three vampires were his captains, or lieutenants, or whatever they called themselves. Whether or not they could control the careening mob was answered when the middle leader, who I recognized as none other than Collette, reached out and casually snapped the neck of a willowy male vampire who was hurtling toward our magical shield. She then tossed the body in a casual arc, but not before punching the face of this incapacitated vampire who was howling with pain. It would be some time before he healed, but the point had been made; obey, or die at the hands of the leadership.

“Gran, they’re—”

“Forming into groups. I can see, dear.” Grans’ voice was tight with worry. This kind of cooperation was rare, and didn’t bode well for us.

They struck at once in three directions, streaking inward toward us even as my charms began to burn the skin of my wrist. I’d fired off a half dozen spellstrikes. I was tiring. I needed to switch my magical focus to verbalization, but the hammering thuds of vampires against the winged curtain of protection was so jarring I doubted I could complete a spell.

And then they were through. It happened on my left and Gran’s right, and it took the combined efforts of nearly two dozen vampires who’d poured forth from the caravans. Six of them were vaporized in a combination of my bolts and Gran’s defenses, but then there was a ripple just small enough to allow a narrow-hipped vampire to slip through. He’d been a young man once, and now he was a lanky, distended predator with fangs and claws bearing down on the one thing I loved more than my parents. He hissed in pure glee after tumbling to the grass, and an expression of wonder on his twisted face when he realized that the magical barrier was behind him. I crossed my arms and filled both lungs in preparation to unleash everything I had left in the tank, which wasn’t much, and the vamp reached for Gran, who remained solidly in place like a virtuous statue.

The panther hit him amidships with a blow so savage that I heard ribs cracking from ten feet away. A second even larger cat took him high, with fangs that were longer than my finger, digging them into the pale back of the vampire’s neck and
twisting
as it flashed by like a thunderbolt in the night. The vampire didn’t even have time to scream before the panthers were off onto the next target, their lithe forms rippling like silk under the blaze of magical fire as yet another caravan burst into lurid purple radiance. Their combined raging growls were the sweetest music I’d ever heard, and I shouted thanks to Alex and Anna before they leapt on their next victim with a triumphant roar.

Renewed by the unexpected allies, I mustered my last spell and cast a chain of sun that danced across the ground like lethal golden serpents. The bolt nipped at the heels of every vampire, killing several outright and causing the bulk of each force to leap back in chaotic fear. Gran let the dome fall into a shower of actinic fire that splashed against the ground in a cheerful dance; everywhere the sparks hit a mist began to form. Without pausing, she raised her hands wide and faced off with the remaining vampires. All three leaders stood like nervous wolves at the edge of a campfire, and anyone could see that their charge was inevitable.

Gritting my teeth, I dredged what power might have lingered in my charms and prepared to hurl it broad and thin to slow the advance of the bloodthirsty dozens who still remained.

That was the moment my power reserves failed.

My charm pulsed once against my skin and fell cold. I was out of stored magic, meaning that anything more would be drawn solely from so I reached the deepest recesses of my own soul. There was an echo of the divine lingering within me, but to call upon it meant risking a collapse of everything that it meant to be a witch.

The choice was easy. I nodded once and reached into my spiritual reserves to call on the spark that lives within me, bringing heat and light and shape to every spell I’ve ever cast. My charms tinkled once in a lazy wave as the power activated them from their temporary sleep.
One spell, then.
I knew that was all I would have. Weakness began to pull at my legs as the cost of tapping my own soul drew me ever closer to some kind of magical disaster.

I felt naked before the grinning faces surrounding us. Alex and Anna were both wounded, and slinking up toward us to take positions on either side. Their flanks heaved and white foam hung on their bared lips, as pure adrenaline held them upright. To fight ancient vampires as they had for more than minute wasn’t just suicidal, it was draining. Yet here they stood, next to me, with the heat of bloodlust still lighting their golden eyes from within. I revised my opinion about Anna and let one hand drop to her muscular spotted shoulder. Alex and Anna growled low in their throats. I agreed; we wouldn’t be anyone’s dinner, let alone some guy dressed like a hipster maître d. Both cats were still out of breath, and in a glance I noticed a bloody gash down one of their flanks. The narrow head looked slightly more feminine, confirming the fact that she’d been badly wounded. Despite my sour relationship with her, I didn’t like the idea of Anna being injured in any way. She was the mother to Wulfric’s child, and therefore a part of my life whether I liked it or not.

I whispered, “You okay, Anna?” The cat looked up at me and blinked twice, as if reaching a decision.

She dipped her head once, then turned back to the ringmaster. For the moment, we had established a fragile peace

“Thanks,” I muttered, and she flicked an ear at me in the most perfect imitation of Gus I’d ever seen. So all cats were buttheads, no matter how large. Good to know.

The ringmaster began to sidle toward us while his mind ran through the geometry of our unpleasant situation. He knew we were tired, and he knew he could win. How to make that happen without any further loss on his part was clearly giving him fits. Sure, they could rush us again, but we would make them pay. There was no middle ground in terms of a bloodless victory, and he knew it. Looking at his smug expression, I knew that arrogance would come into play, and I was proven right a mere second later.

He stopped ten yards from us to draw up in an operatic stance. There was no mistaking the gloating spread across his angular face, which was now free of the stage makeup he’d worn during his performance under the glare of the tent lights. I knew that when alive, he’d been a tall man, well made and muscular. He had the bearing of a soldier hidden somewhere under the glib arrogance marking him now. With long fingers, he smoothed his hair with one hand while unbuttoning a burgundy vest with ivory buttons. He wore no shirt underneath, and his skin was milk white and hairless.

“Wait where you are.” His voice radiated complete authority, causing every vampire to freeze in place without hesitation. “I’ll not have our meal spoiled with bad manners.” He grinned to reveal fangs of perfect symmetry.

Gran made a low
hmph
and waggled a hand toward him in distaste. “You’ll do no such thing, and you know it. You must be very old, and I urge you to do the only logical thing and leave our lands this instant.”

“Good lady, I
suspect
that you’ve gone daft.” There was a touch of old Britain in his accent, but I couldn’t place the rest of it. It was likely his age had erased his original accent, leaving him sounding like a snide yacht salesman. My dislike of him went even deeper. When Gran said nothing, he gave a tiny shrug, as if powerless to discuss matters with someone who was dense. He was a master of gestures, I’d grant him that. He’d also just insulted Gran, which did not sit well with me at all. In fact, I felt a column of anger rising in me and idly wondered if I now had enough power to cast another spell. One well-placed bolt in that arrogant face would set him right, but I wasn’t sure, so I let my charms hang silently next to my palm. My teeth were clenched so tight I was getting a legendary headache, or maybe I was just too mad to see straight. Either way, my grump level was skyrocketing, but Gran’s silence was troubling. I cut my eyes and saw perspiration glistening on her face. A pallid complexion and spots of high color on her cheeks told me something was wrong. When she felt my gaze, a smile curved her lips.

“I’ll be alight, dear. Just a bit sore from that first creature. Although, we might consider things other than magic right now. I seem to be a bit tired.” Gran’s voice was pained, and I knew that our problems had just gotten much worse. My allies were winded and wounded. There were dozens of vampires hissing in the darkness, and three lieutenant fangers waiting for orders from an undead ringmaster who seemed to want us as supper.

Great. That launched us into Worst Day Ever territory. I looked at Gran and then upward to the mute stars spattered across the deep night sky. It was a perfect view, just like every one of the nights I’ve lived here in the mountains. A grim sense of purpose closed in around me because, at that moment, I knew my life had been as full as my heart. Both were charmed, even pure. I’d been lucky to have—well, all of it.

So the next minute was easy.

“Anna, Alex. Cover Gran.” My voice cracked with fear, but I lifted my chin as high as I could and placed both palms up into the night air. I had no magic, but I had my own spirit left, and that told me that I would not let these monsters harm the woman who ushered me from scared novice into the witch that stood before them. “
Do it
,” I hissed, wanting no argument or loss of time. “I love you, Gran. You have to get away and stop them.”