My wolf growled and snarled.
I maneuvered around the altar, making sure I stayed on the opposite side of my friends. Behind me and to the left there was a noise as the bokor stood. I turned to her. “This loa claims to be my creator,” I said to the sorceress, still biding my time, quietly willing Marcy to wake up. “Is that true?”
The priestess turned her icy stare on me and grinned. She looked no worse for wear from Marcy’s spells. “Marinette is infinite. She is all. She graces us with her own free will.”
“That’s not helpful,” I grumbled as I moved forward. “Nor was it an answer to the question I asked. I want to know if she was the one who was responsible for creating the first werewolf.”
Yessssss drifted by my ear.
The bokor was clearly old, but not nearly as old as the spirit who was harassing me at the moment. The bokor finally said, “She is the creator of all.”
“All what? All shifters? All wolves?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm, still not helpful.” I edged closer to the sorceress. I couldn’t fight the loa without any more spells, but I could take down the bokor with physical strength.
I am Marinette, goddess of wolves.
“So only werewolves, then?” I asked. I had to grab my hair and pull it out of my face because the wind wouldn’t stop. Marinette was clearly gearing up for something.
The bokor opened her arms and spread them wide, her robe gaping, arms opening like cloth wings. She pinned me with her gaze as she intoned, “We have been awaiting your arrival. And now we will do what is necessary.”
“And what exactly is necessary?”
“Marinette will rise again.” The bokor’s voice was firm and unyielding. She believed exactly what she was telling me.
“So she’s going to ride me, then what? And that’s really not going to work for me in the long-term, because I’m kind of attached to my body.” I bent down to a fighting stance. This sorceress was nothing more than skin and bones. One snap of the neck and I had one adversary down.
“No, she won’t ride you. She will become you,” the bokor cackled.
A noise pinged in the air.
My head snapped to Marcy. That was her phone! I told my wolf. Juanita wanted to chat. Not an opportune time, but since I had no idea how to win against Marinette, I knew I had to get to that phone. I spun, lunging over the altar. But before I could fully clear it, something struck my side.
I rolled and came to a stop—right into the jaws of a rabid wolf.
I tried to wrench my body away, but it was too late. The grimy wolf embedded its broken teeth into my left thigh before I could scramble out of the way. The pain was immediate, searing, and intense.
White-hot lightning shot up my leg.
I brought my fist around and crashed it into the beast’s head, hard enough to knock its jaws loose. I unsheathed my knife, and with another stroke and the wolf went down. I had to yank hard to get my knife out of its skull.
The priestess screamed behind me as I killed her wolf, but I ignored her.
Marcy’s phone was still beeping and I had to get to it even if my leg was engulfed with the curse. It seared through my bloodstream as I crawled toward Marcy. My wolf urged us to shift, her instinct to protect us rearing its head. But shifting was the wrong choice. That’s what the bokor wanted. She wanted us in wolf form. We aren’t going to shift, I told my wolf. We need to get to Marcy’s phone. If we pass out, the loa and the bokor have us where they want us. Juanita is the only shot we’ve got. I maneuvered onto my stomach and started crawling.
The bokor had crumpled to the ground when I killed her wolf. She must have to regenerate something when one of them was killed. I’d have to remember that. As I moved, I told my wolf, Focus on cutting off the flow of poison. Immediately she threw magic over the creeping yellow masses growing in our system, but it didn’t do anything. Keep trying.
The temp around us was still ice cold, and it was only exacerbated when another hot wind blew by my face. Do you like the feel of my blood settling into your bones? the loa said on a long breath. My blood will change you, and once you succumb, you will be free for the taking.
“I’m not down yet.” I gritted my teeth as I moved stubbornly forward. My leg was now immobile and the pain was shocking. My wolf was having some luck getting the creeping yellow to stop by erecting up a magic barrier around my upper thigh.
The loa nudged by me again. You cannot ever recover from my blood, you know. You are doomed.
“We’ll see about that.” I was almost to my friend when the bokor stepped in front of me, a rabid wolf on either side of her. Marcy’s phone was still beeping. Juanita wasn’t giving up, and neither was I.