I opened mouth and placed killing teeth around Angie’s wrist, close to fist holding gem. Teeth gentle. Careful as with own kit, not to break skin. Pulled. I led her to Carmen. Lowered head and placed fist onto Carmen chest.
Red motes raced across Carmen’s flesh and dove into the diamond. Carmen gasped. “Coolio!” Angie said. “Mommy, look! See? I was smart to hide in your van!” I bent over hurt witch, smelling burned flesh and burned breath from her mouth and lungs. Carmen was in danger. She had no beast to shift into to heal. I huffed. Carmen might die. Jane made sound as if her kit or mate were injured. I walked away, tail low. Sad. Hungry. Jane was grieving.
Went into house of sleeping angry witch. Hooked burned paw around door handle of cold-food-place. Pulled. Inside, found many clear plastic dishes, some smelling of cooked pasta, cold and slimy. Cooked brown rice, cold and sticky. Cooked beans. Cooked fish! Using killing teeth, I pulled pasta and fish from cold-place. Tore into dishes, spilling food to floor. Settled to eat. Not hot witch blood. Not fresh blood of prey. Not bear or deer or rabbit. But enough for hunger clawing at stomach. Good fish. Lemon sauce and capers, Jane said. Oh. My. God . . . this is so good. Jane looked at kitchen floor. And this is such a mess.
Back outside, I groomed pelt and claws and watched witches pull injured sisters into shade. Molly talked to Angie about healing. About how body worked. Angie was too little. Was confused. Molly should just draw on Angie’s power to heal them, Jane thought, watching, intent.
Kill kit, like she killed garden, I thought back. Take too much life.
Jane looked around garden with cat eyes and said word for sex. Didn’t understand why dead garden made her think about sex. Bruiser and Leo and Rick made Beast think about sex. Humans were confusing. Lay head on ground, tilted so sun would warm ears. Closed eyes.
Time passed. Heard familiar sound. Raised head and huffed warning at Molly. She looked up. I huffed again and stood, turned head to road. Old car came down road, old car with rattling insides, not alive, but near death, black smoke for breath. Stinky. Big Evan’s old car.
“Thank God,” Molly said. I snorted. Big Evan was not god. Evan parked dying car and got out. Took Molly’s and Cia’s hands and put them on hurt sisters. Burned smell began to go away. Mewling sound from Liz stopped. Evan was good healer with air magic.
Long time in sun later, injured witches were better, enough to take to hospital. Boadacia—Cia twin—drove Molly-van to hospital. Big Evan carried Evangelina into house and I raced to follow, curious. He dropped her onto rug. She landed with bumping thuds. I hacked, amused. Big Evan looked at me and shrugged. “Oops.” But looked satisfied. Angry. Witch Evangelina was once leader of coven. Was zeta bitch now. Least in pack-coven.
Evan put Molly and kits down for nap on Evangelina’s couch and went into basement. Beast followed big male witch, mate to Molly. Stepped over Jane-clothes and claws. Evan stood at bottom of stairs with hands on hips, studying room. Saying things low, under breath. More sex talk about mothers. Humans think of sex at strange times. Jane laughed. I did not understand.
Evan pulled things from pockets and threw into room. His magic was dust on air. It smelled like bee sting, hurt nose. But magic of summoning the two-natured faded. Gone. Big Evan had good magic. Wanted to watch Evan. He studied salt circle and hedge and things inside it. The wolf blood in circle was gone. Demon looked hungry. Smelled dead wolf death-stink under bee-sting-magic-smell. More of small wolf was gone, eaten. Alive wolf looked sick. Afraid.
Sitting as far from hedge as silver chain would allow, Lincoln Shaddock was awake. His flesh smelled sick where silver touched him. Big Evan went upstairs to stinky, dying, rattly car and got rattly metal box. Beast followed like dog. Don’t like dogs, but curious about Big Evan. Stayed by his leg, full of many questions. Back in basement, Big Evan took things from box and put metal square with teeth against shackle. Said to Shaddock. “You try to bite me when I set you free and I’ll use one of Janie’s little knives to make sure it’s your last meal. I made her this one.” He lifted knife sheath that Jane had worn. Pulled vamp-killer; held silvered blade to light. Handle was made of carved elk horn. Jane’s favorite knife. “And I know how to use it.”
Evan pulled wooden handle back and forth across shackle. Made ugly sound, loud. I lowered ear tabs to protect ears. Hacksaw, Jane thought. Now why didn’t I think of that? Except that I thought the shackle was spelled. Big Evan used big hands to bend shackle open. And pulled Shaddock to corner of room. The two males talked softly, but Beast heard.