Chicks Kick Butt

“Why do Metamorphs even care?” I asked. “Metamorphs have never been interested in or adhered to paranorm rules.”


I was already thinking she was one eraser short of a pencil, and that was made even more clear by the giddy expression on her face. “Respect!” She punctuated the word as she pointed at me, and I winced from the shrillness of her voice, which grated on me like gravel beneath the tires of my ’Vette. “And we want Trackers to back off. When the replacement council votes that we are not to be touched, nothing can stop us from taking over human lives.” She stroked her Ferragamo purse. “Like those of the wealthiest men in the city. We can mirror anyone and take over his life.”

“And kill the real human,” I said, disgust filling me. “Then not only are you leeches but you are murderers, too.”

Then my eyes widened and my jaw dropped. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me earlier. Shock, incredulity over the whole situation—it didn’t matter. “You’re going to kill the real council members, aren’t you?” I said it with disbelief, yet with the realization that my conclusion was true.

“Took you that long to figure it out?” Becky laughed as she stood and looked at Robocop Carl. “Tom did say you could have your fun with her.”

Carl grinned at me in a way that made my stomach curdle.

It was then that I sensed the sun was going down.

And Robo-Carl was going down.

Becky would be taken care of, too.

Then it would be Smith’s turn.

As I sensed the sun disappearing and the city become immersed in the night, the cuffs fell away from my ankles and wrists. The clatter on the floor startled Carl, who aimed his Glock at me. Becky stumbled back in her high heels.

The sleeves of my blouse tightened slightly around my arms and at my shoulders as my body grew stronger and the muscles in my slender arms became more defined. I wished I had my leather fighting suit as I rose from my chair. I ripped the sleeves from my shirt so that my arms were bare and less constricted.

My body continued to transform into my Drow appearance as I jerked each sleeve off. Expressions of shock and panic were on their faces as my once fair skin turned into a faint shade of amethyst. The tangled hair I pushed away from my face was cobalt blue now instead of black. My incisors lengthened into petite fangs.

Every ache and pain from the beatings vanished as my body healed during the transformation.

Fury built within me, and now I fed it with my elements. The room began to shake, windowpanes rattling as the earth beneath the building started to buck. Kitchen cupboard doors slammed open and closed. Ceramic plates, bowls, mugs, flew off shelves and smashed to shards on the aged linoleum.

Drawers rolled in and out. One drawer filled with silverware spilled every knife, fork, and spoon onto the floor. They rattled and clattered in tune with the pots and pans secured above the stove.

A sack of flour landed with a thud outside the pantry and coated Becky and Carl in white.

Becky let out a scream and landed on her ass on the linoleum, which was now cracking from the force of the earthquake I had created.

Carl swung his gaze around the room as he stumbled against a counter and dropped to his knees. His eyes were wide and filled with shock as he swung the gun from the archway to me and back again. His hands were shaking as he tried to hold on to the Glock. “If—if you’re doing this you’d better stop it, bitch.”

The room continued to rock and Carl had to brace one of his hands on the floor. Becky screamed again and huddled in a corner, her palms braced to either side of her in an effort to keep from rolling across the bucking floor. Dark Elves are lithe, our footing perfect, and I easily kept on my feet.

Loud snaps from wood cracking came from the door frame. I directed my air elemental magic at the frame. I used my element to rip a sword-length shard of wood. At my command, my magic propelled the shaft straight at Carl.

His gun clattered to the floor as he flung his hands over his face.

Rachel Caine and Kerrie Hughes's books