Raven Cursed

With the last word, the demon threw himself at the hedge. Light exploded out, bloody, and cloudy, murky black. A boom sounded, slapping off the walls. I jumped back, hitting the white wall. A mushroom cloud of heat blossomed out. A painting fell, dislodged by the concussion of sound and my body. I reached out, Beast-fast. Caught the corner of the frame as it tilted out into the room. Toward the hedge.

 

I dropped my body and shoved upward, high, hard. I landed on the floor with a dull thud, stabilizing the painting in both hands. Balancing. Lifting even as I rolled beneath it. Gingerly, I set the painting against the wall, where it couldn’t break the circle. The room was hot and stank of a sulfur compound.

 

I twitched my head around, my hair scraping on the floor, and met Molly’s horrified eyes. There was a red place on her cheek, as if she had been burned. Carmen was worse off, blisters rising on her skin. The twins were out of place, standing in the corner, holding hands. Fire Truck, inside with the demon, was shifting into his wolf, reddish hairs sprouting, bones sliding with sickening cracks and pops. Eyes open, he screamed. A crack, black and sooty ran down the sides of the dome of the hedge. The demon had damaged it.

 

“Get out of here,” I whispered.

 

The demon threw himself at the hedge of thorns again. The crack spread, a dirty, dull crack in the energies that caged him. A widening fracture filled with darkness, a dripping blackness. The sound was a sonic boom, tearing air from the room. Heat crazed along my flesh, burning. Scalding. Branding. The scent of burning sulfur ballooned out. I screamed. My spine bowed, lifting me from the floor, only my head and feet touching down. “Get out!” I screamed to the witches. “Get out!” They ran up the stairs, feet pounding.

 

My bones slid. Skin abraded, splitting. The gray light of the change slid over me, sparking with black lights. But mine sparked like black diamonds reflecting the sun, my own bright magic called forth. Pelt spilled out. Killing teeth erupted from my gums. The magics of the hedge seared and singed pelt and skin. I screamed. Pushed out of my clothes, claws ripping cloth. Still shifting, I leaped free.

 

My Beast magic shoved back at the rift in the hedge’s energies. Bright and cool as a mountain stream. Beast filled my mind.

 

Beast is better than Jane, better than big-cat. Beast knows what to do. Spread claws. Swiped a paw down Lincoln Shaddock’s arm, drawing vampire blood. Not two-natured. But powerful.

 

I/we threw undead blood at crack in hedge of thorns. It landed like spats of water on hot stone. Black light blew out. Beast was thrown like kit swiped by mother’s paw. Into air. White light shot out. Pulled crack in ward together. Beast hit wall. Paintings fell. Frames cracking. But none fell into hedge. None broke circle.

 

Demon inside circle threw back beak and screamed. I shook head and snarled. Gathered feet under body and backed away, pawpawpaw, silent. Good hunter. Backed to stairs. Stood and studied demon. Studied reddish wolf in ward of hedge. Sleeping wolf. Skinny with hunger.

 

How did you know? Jane asked. Fear filled her mind. Kit fear, afraid of shadows, leaping at leaves as if at prey. How did you know how to stop the hedge breaking? How did you know when I didn’t? And why aren’t you being pulled toward that thing?

 

I backed up stairs. Whirled, to face up stairs, tail spinning slow for balance. Landed facing away from trapped death. Raced up fast. Hunger tore at belly. Need to hunt! I raced through Evangelina’s house. Out open door. Into light. Eyes blinked against sun, dazzling in garden.

 

Witches were standing in garden, staring at house. Staring at Beast. Hands out, fingers spread like killing claws. Power built in their hands. Against Beast. Black storm cloud in Carmen’s hands. Cold air gusted through garden, around her, into her hands. Leaves and trees talked with leaf sounds. I chuffed. Warning.

 

“No!” Molly said. “It’s okay.”

 

“No it’s not. It’s a were-cat,” twin Liz said. “It’ll bite us!”

 

I showed killing teeth. Snarled. Not were! Am Beast!

 

Twin Liz shaped her power, sparkling like gems. Twin Cia shaped hers, glowing like face of hunter’s moon. Twins spun energy like balls of power, captured in hands.

 

“She isn’t a were!” Molly shouted. She stepped between witch sisters and Beast.

 

Carmen blinked. “No. She isn’t.” Smell of surprise, shock, fear—flight or flight scent—and something human filled garden. Awe? Didn’t understand human awe, but Jane felt awe sometimes. It smelled like this. “It was you,” Carmen said. “In the cave. You saved me.”

 

Twins stopped spinning power. Carmen’s power blew away like mist in sudden breeze. “That’s Jane,” she said. “What is she, if she isn’t a were-cat?”

 

Molly tilted head. Looking into Big-Cat eyes, wanting to hide Jane secret. To hide Beast.

 

Inside head, Jane sighed. Crap, crap, crap.

 

“Sorry,” Molly whispered. To sisters she said, “Jane is a skinwalker. And she has magic of her own.” To Beast, she asked, “Did you stop that thing?”