We'd planned to move on Victoria in the morning. The sky heaved with it's darkened greys, swelling with the threat of rain, as the sun did its best to signal the dawn with pale spears of light just barely peeking through the clouds.
I had yet to sleep, but thankfully I was kept busy rather than left alone to the maddening even tide that lapped at the shoreline of my mind. I had been weaving magic in to blades. Anointing them with water soaked in the light of the full moon, and calling the elements to bless their edges.
My fingers had grown numb from the minute craftwork of forging protective charms and totems. It held the austere, primal, and unequivocal taste of nostalgia. Like my blood and my bones had done this generations before.
It harked to times immemorial where Kings and Emperors would seek the council of wise men and women. Of sages and oracles. Shamans and Witches, to bless their armies and their futures. I was apart of that lineage now. Folding whatever magic I could into the task at hand, and while the stakes at hand were no where near as egregious as entire continents at war, it felt like the earth would crack beneath a leviathan, and swallow us whole.
Blood of my blood
Black on black
The weapons simultaneously felt shockingly light in my hand, and yet I'd never felt anything heavier. They were blades. I was unsure whether to call them actual swords or not, but these ones were designed to flick out and snap together in a moments notice. For ease of use and ease of concealment I suppose.
The new member, Lyra, stretched pleasingly on the foot of the bed. The leather of her jacket squeaking as her arms lifted above her head and she let out a contented sigh. She apparently had found Bethany when she went for a walk but two days before, claiming that she was from the Wolf pack back home. Bethany immediately hated her, which means I immediately agreed to allow her to join.
Lyra was maybe an inch or two taller than Bethany. She was stocky, and her choice of clothing did nothing to hide the musculature that lay beneath. Her hair was a cedar brown, and hung in a tangled mess of braids and curls. A musk of leather, cigarettes and whisky followed wherever she went like the phantom of an after thought. Like the late night scent of the final call at a pub in the height of summer. It was oddly comforting.
She said that she had come at the request of two. One, was on behalf of the wolfpack in general. They wanted answers, and we were apparently taking too long. The second, was on behalf of Jace. He begged that Victoria be brought back unharmed and alive, and Lyra was supposedly a sucker for her little brother. Although she had a good mind to rip Victoria in half for what she's done, her heart bleeds for Jace, and that is enough for her to take action. The problem with messing with a Wolf is that if you mess with one, you mess with all of them.
"I'm not wearing that." Bethany protested, scrunching her delicate nose at the necklace of charms I'd made for her.
"It'll protect you from some of the stuff Victoria might try. We can't be too careful."
"I don't care. Are those animal bones? That's disgusting." She proclaimed turning her nose up at it in a child-like manner. I could only give an exasperated sigh in response. Simon had accepted his gratefully, a warm smile on his face as he slipped it over his neck and fiddled with the various totems gently as to not break them.
Lyra had also accepted them, looping the rope around the necklace she was already wearing so that it hung half way down her torso rather than round her neck. I could hear her weight shifting on the bed as she walked over to me and Bethany. A confident swagger in each of her steps that commanded a playful attention.
"Come on now, Princess." She cooed "Hopefully it's just for one night. Then you'll never have to do it again. This is the price of admission for a night of fun, right?"
"Fine." Bethany, much to my surprise, relented. Snatching the charms from my hand and pulling it over her head, before stomping off in a huff to sit next to Simon as we awaited the time to go.
"Who's idea was it to give someone like her ungodly strength and immortality again?" Lyra asked, stretching to lean her elbow on my shoulder non-chalantly.
"I've no clue. Everyone has there reasons though."
"Right... Listen, I know you won't want to hear it, and I know you probably won't listen. But it's best if you hang back as much as possible, okay? It's not too farfetched to say you're not as durable as the three of us, and we don't know what will happen in there. The more time we spend having to pull you out of trouble, the less time we have to worry about ourselves being safe, and the less time we have to get to Victoria, right?" She explained, the earthen pools of her eyes stared deeply in to my own, and while I was somewhat hurt at the down play of my own usefulness, I did understand what she meant.
I nodded in response. A part of me is preparing for a meagre form of disappointment. Like we'd get passed the two guards and Victoria would be there defeated almost immediately, and we would have over prepared so much it would seem a waste not to use the resources we had built up. Or perhaps we'd fight tooth and claw to get to her, only to find she'd escaped yet again. Time would tell, but my gut told me neither of those were correct.
I felt something weighty in my palm, only to look down and see a knife had been placed there by Lyra. She looked at me reassuringly, yet also worried. Like a warrior sending their child off to their first battle. Although that is not too far off the mark.
Lyra had told me that Jace had suffered greatly since Victoria's exit. The idea of a "mate" has been one long engrained into Werewolf society that it has somewhat become a half-truth. One, perfectly made for another. They could have many loves, and many lovers, but none would come close to their mate. It was romantic, and tragic, if not a touch dramatic.
She had told me that the pack itself was excited with the possibility of the two houses joining. A Witch and a Wolf, a union for the ages, and it made me wonder if the Vampires held mine and Aramis' relationship with such excitement.
*****************************************************
We watched as Victoria stepped from the same, shiny, black car she had done for the time we'd been here. Flanked by the same, muscle bound, men, and accompanied by the same elderly man that sometimes followed at her heels like a puppy.
Bethany lurched forward somewhat, her blade already glinting in the dull light that slithered through the van window. She was eager, and hungry. But something was wrong. It prickled at the hairs on my arms. Rooted in the seat of my gut and shivered up my spine. Something was very, very wrong.
Before I could usher a word of caution, Bethany sprung forward, snapping the backdoors to the van wide open. Both Simon and Lyra were too slow as she hit the ground, darting like an arrow with Victoria as the target.
Bethany was plucked from the air, as one of the guards slammed a wall of muscle right into her oncoming charge, sending her sprawling along the ground while Victoria was hurried inside.
I scurried from the van, only to look up and see a glint of metal slip through the trunk of the guards' throat which was promptly relieved of his head and began to spray gouts of blood up the alley way. My eyes widen in horror as his body twitched and convulsed, even more so as the blood began to hiss and bite deep into the concrete surfaces it spilled upon.
As Bethany recovered to her feet, the Guards back snapped inversely as it barrelled into her, scuttling like an agitated tarantula. In the frenzy Simon and Lyra were upon the remaining body guard who stood defiantly in front of the door like a vicious wall of muscle. He could do nothing but swat lazily at the deft and precise strikes of the pair that poked him full of leaky holes.
Bethany's screeches reached my ears next as the guard astride her, gushed out gallons of blackened blood from his neck hole, drenching the face and shoulders of the struggling Bethany. It immediately began to sizzle.
I froze for the briefest of moments, as I fumbled with the satchel at my side, and reached for the spell packets within. Similar to the one I had used on Jace months before, I flung it in the direction of this beast. It ignited with ice-blue fire, igniting the shreds of his clothes and flesh with a burst of bright light. It let out a gurgled shriek as it stumbled back wards, it's limbs slipping on the pot-marked concrete, and throwing itself down to try and roll out the flames.
Scrambling forward I whispered a numbing incantation at the flailing Bethany who clawed at her blood smeared face, it was enough for her to regain some focus and roll on to her front in an attempt to allow gravity to pull the blood from her quivering features.
"The brain!" I yelled, "Damage the brain!" as if on cue, Simon lunged forward with his weapon. Piercing the skull of the remaining body guard, as his hulking mass slumped to the ground, and began to sizzle.
I remained crouched in front on Bethany who was on all fours, clutching her face with one hand. Simon and Lyra approached cautiously as stuttered breaths shook from shoulders. Her hair had mostly burned away, and it was difficult to see through the dried blood and her hand, but it looked like her healing factor had kicked in at last.
I looked to Simon questioningly, unsure on what I should do, and watched as he steeled himself.
"Bethany?" He asked, stepping forward quietly.
"Don't look at me!" She screeched, leaning on her knees as she flung a defensive arm outward. With bated breaths she slowly pulled her hand away from her face. Whispered slushing sounds as the flesh of a mangled face began to knit itself back together. Nothing but hate and anger, vibrating from the silver peeks of moonlit eyes as she stared at me with a look violently frightening enough to cause my heart to cling to my spine in fear.
"I am going to kill that, bitch" She growled. Standing up, and snatching her weapon from the ground, and strode fourth towards the door.
We shared a glance, before following after her. Looks like the plan had already gone awry.
Lyra gave me a reassuring look before wincing at the sound of tearing metal. Bethany had wrenched the metallic door from its frame and hinges. The faint glimmer of Victoria getting out of this alive was getting snuffed out more and more with each step Bethany took.
The corridor was cramped, and stifling. Old pipework clung to the corners, the slinking sound of running water slushing through their tubing. The cold brickwork at our sides did nothing to quell the humidity as tension aided in thickening the air.
Soon chains hung from the ceiling. Perhaps once used to carry or hang equipment, they now silhouetted serpents in their decadence. Clacking with warning hisses when one hung too low.
Suddenly, there was the loud burst of steam, erupting through the silence causing all of us to jump backwards in defence. No time was afforded for an awkward chuckle when Simon was immediately pulled to the ground by a tangled mass of glittering scales. They knotted his legs, crushing his arms to his sides as they strained to push against them with angry growls through gritted teeth. He yelled and rolled, attempting to crush the snakes beneath his weight. But each struggle only served to aid their constriction as speckled bands coiled around his throat and pulled his entire body taught.
Bethany and Lyra were upon him in an instant, pulling and cutting in a panicked mess to free him to no avail. Bethany screeched in anger and surprise as her feet were yanked beneath her and she was pulled down the hallway.
"Lyra! Get after her!" I screamed, falling to my knees beside Simon. She looked worried for the briefest of seconds before breaking out into a sprint down the hall.
A roiling mass of serpents lay before me as my mind flitted to all the spells I knew. Simon was mummified beneath slithering scales and thin bodies. A single, sky-blue, eye, alit with fear shone out towards me. Muffled screaming of desperation.
I reached my hand outwards, worming my arm through the tangled mess until I was sure I'd found the smooth skin of his arm. Confidence swelling within me as I wasn't bitten or attacked.
"Simon. Simon, listen to me. They're not real, okay? They're not real!" I called out. Pleading, hoping that he'd hear me. "Come on Simon. You can do this. They're not real. Say it with me: They. Are not. Real."
I repeated this mantra over and over again. My eyes burning in a sight of confidence. Eventually, over the violent hisses and the slither of bodies, Simon's voice met my own.
They're not real.
They're not real.
They're not real.
The forms slipped from his face, and his lips. They fell from his throat, his chest, his arms, and Simon sprang to a sitting up position, as they slinked back into the shadows. He panted wordlessly, brushing his limbs down from the phantasms before throwing himself around my shoulders with quiet sobs.
"You're okay..." I hushed, rubbing his back reassuringly. After a few seconds had passed, I heaved Simon to his feet. Smiling as I handed him his blade. "Let's go save Bethany."
A/N: Phew that was an action packed one right? I'm not quite used to writing action so let me know if I can do anything better. Thanks for reading ^,..,^