Chapter 7: : Chapter 7

I spent the evening filling Casey in about our visit to the Ripper and complaining about thick-skulled werewolves. “I told you Jaxson was an ass,” was my cousin’s most frequent response.

At least Jaxson had agreed to let me help. For now. I was certain that at the slightest sign of peril, he’d try to stuff me in a box. What kind of monster would shove a woman into a jail cell just to protect her?

Screw werewolves.

By midnight I was out of complaints, and we were nearly out of whiskey, which was probably a bad sign for the morning.

I remorsefully dragged myself upstairs and into bed, but I tossed and turned. Nightmares flooded my mind.

Gasping, I sat up in bed, chest heaving. I pressed my eyes closed and tried to calm my breath, but when I opened them again, it was no better. I felt like I’d run a marathon, and sweat covered my skin.

, I thought, slumping back down onto the soaked mattress. Another nightmare.

The echoes of the sorcerer’s voice in my mind made my skin prickle, and an ominous sensation of being watched crept along my spine.

Had the sorcerer been scrying on me?

I was wearing my charm, so he shouldn’t have been able to watch me. I went to touch my necklace, but my arm didn’t move. It was leaden and useless, like I’d been sleeping on it.

I looked frantically around the room. Dim light from the waning gibbous moon filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the furniture. Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then a slender shadow moved along the walls, and my stomach knotted as trepidation wound around my heart.

I told myself that it was just the shifting curtains or the branch of a tree outside…but then, with a soft, slow motion, the old rickety mattress sagged beside me. I tried to whip my head around to the right, but my body only moved as if pushing through molasses.

Deep dread squeezed my lungs and throat as I looked into the blurred, inky face of the intruder.

The faceless man.

He sat there beside me on my bed, head cocked curiously to the side.

I opened my mouth to scream, but he quickly placed a finger to my lips. “Come, now, we don’t want to wake anyone up. It’s the middle of the night.”

My cry burned in my lungs, but no sound came out, no matter how hard I pushed.

The blur followed his face, just like when I’d scried. But his appearance was different—his body distorted the air around him, stretching the shapes of everything like fabric pulled tight over an object beneath. It was as if, somehow, he were pushing his way through a picture of my room.

A familiar voice snarled in the back of my mind.

Shit. It was still a dream.

I forced words out of my leaden lips. “I. Am. Still. Dreaming…You. Aren’t. Here.”

He brushed my hair from my shoulder and whispered, “Yes, Savannah. You’re dreaming. But your eyes are wide open because I want you to see what happens next. Don’t worry. Soon, you’ll be with me.”

Rage fogged the corners of my vision, and I pushed a hiss from my frozen lips. “Soon, you’ll be dead.”

His hand paused. “Oh, Savannah, you have such a penchant for irony.”

The faceless man rose, strode around the end of the bed, and examined the random sketches scattered over the furniture. “You do art things. How quaint.”

With his back turned, I felt his hold over me slip… just a little.

Although I couldn’t move my hands, I thrust spite-laden words from my mouth. “We’ll find you and kill you. We know who you are.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I doubt that. If you did, you wouldn’t have quite so much sass. But it’s no surprise you don’t know the truth. You don’t even know who are, Savannah. And you can’t control your own body.”

The faceless man waved his hand, and my right arm threw off the covers of its own volition. Terror wound around my thundering heart. He gestured upward with his hands, as if coaxing a small child, and my legs slipped over the scratchy sheets and out of bed.

the voice in my soul cried.

But instead, I stood, adorned only in my skimpy nightclothes. At least the sorcerer wasn’t looking.

“Are there any pictures of me?” he inquired, turning my way.

I nodded against my will.

He made little walking gestures with his fingers, and I staggered over to the desk with ungainly steps. My mind whirled. What was happening? Was I sleepwalking? Why could he control me?

“Show me what you’ve been working on,” the shadowy man purred.

Every nerve in my body screamed in protest, but I opened the drawer and pulled out the crumpled papers.

I held out a fistful of the sketches I’d drawn of Jaxson. My heart leapt a little, glad that even out of my control, my body knew how to deliver a snappy The faceless man shook his head. “What rubbish. We know you can do better.”

He waved his hand, and I ripped them and tossed them in the trash. Resentment and regret drowning my thoughts, I pulled out the drawings I did of him.

“Much better. Spread them out.”

I did as he instructed.

“My, you are quite talented. But Savannah, you’ve got my face all wrong. You’ve just made a smudge. I think it’s time for you to see it for real.”

I gritted my teeth. “If I wanted to see an asshole, I’d just bend over in front of a mirror.”

He laughed. “So much fight. Such a strong soul. I doubt I’d have any chance of doing this if I didn’t have your blood. But I do, so let’s go.”

. Those bastards had taken it when I was trapped in the sanitorium.

Kahanov waved to the bedroom door.

My neck burned, and my teeth ached. My heart had lost its rhythm and was pounding erratically in my breast. Despite my fury, despite my fear, I obeyed. Straining with every step, I walked over and undid the latch on the door.

The pained voice in my head whimpered, But I couldn’t. Sweat trickled down my spine as I opened the door and stared into the empty hall. I tried to shout, but my voice was locked again. But maybe Casey had heard my door. Maybe he would hear my footsteps or me talking to myself.

They were fool’s hopes. The house was silent except for my labored breathing.

The sorcerer laid a hand on my shoulder. “This is where I leave you. Your ride is waiting. Better go catch it.”

My mind screamed. Fighting my own body, I began padding barefoot across the creaky wooden floorboards to the stairs. I took each stairstep deliberately, sleepwalking my way down to the second-floor landing. Then the first. Pictures of long-dead LaSalles looked back at me from the walls and emotionlessly watched my descent. My ancestors, impotent to help. Content to watch me go.

Finally, I reached the entry hall. The sorcerer was nowhere to be seen, but I still obeyed his will.

I unlocked the five latches on the front door one at a time. Then I swung it wide and stepped out onto the porch. Six more agonizing steps took me down to the sidewalk and another dozen took me to the curb.

Then my body stopped with an unsteady jolt.

“Remember to look both ways,” the sorcerer’s distant voice echoed in my mind—an intrusive, violating feeling—unlike the familiar snarl that echoed back in response.

But despite my rage, my head turned left. Then right. I was truly alone.

My foot lifted off the still warm pavement and stepped onto the dry, dusty asphalt of the street.

I stopped short when I reached the middle. Every part of my soul screamed in agony, but I couldn’t move a muscle more. I just stood, petrified, beneath the deep yellow glow of the streetlights.

Then a shadow swept over me, and my already pounding heart accelerated to a breakneck pace.

With an ominous shudder, the street shook as something landed behind me.

I couldn’t turn my head or even tilt my eyes, but I still could sense the overwhelming power of the thing. The signature of its magic smelled of deep, sickly pungent flowers and tasted of overripe fruit. It sounded like the deafening buzz of millions of cicadas and felt like sap creeping over my skin.

As I stood there, unable to move, an enormous, blurry shape methodically moved into the corner of my transfixed gaze. Something of unimaginable size and horror.

Step by shuddering step, it shifted into view, blocking the light from the streetlamps.

A shudder quaked through me.

It couldn’t be.

But it was. The thing crouched on six spindly legs that were sheathed in fur and glistening mucus. Its head was almond shaped, ringed by hundreds of eyes. Two pairs of wings haltingly rose from its segmented back. They were decrepit, moth-like things, decorated with hypnotic, iridescent patterns.

commanded the voice in my soul.

But I didn’t, and I stood motionless as the thing’s long, narrow head slowly split open vertically like a Venus flytrap, revealing rows of teeth and a fine purple tendril of a tongue that unwound and snaked toward me.

I would have wet myself, but I didn’t even have control over that. I was a statue.

Its hot, wet, reeking breath rolled over me as its tongue slipped across my chest and neck, leaving a trail of mucus. But rather than bite me in half, the monster withdrew its head, arched its back, and curled its hindlegs underneath its body, then reached forward with a pair of glistening, clawed talons.

A howl tore through the back of my mind, the piercing wail of despair of a chained beast. But for a second, my eyes had enough freedom to turn away from the horror and look up into the night sky.

Behind the monster, a pillar of rising clouds boiled into the shape of a black wolf against the starlit sky.

What the fuck?

The words boomed in my mind.

It wasn’t the voice of the sorcerer or of the monster. Or the voice in my soul that kept urging me to wake up. It was a voice that shook my thoughts and being to my very core.

There was no way for me to respond, only desperate, confused hope.

Suddenly, agony jolted through my body, and a knife-like pain shot through my fingers and teeth.

I screamed. With my own voice this time. Moving my own mouth. My body was my own again.

Heart near to ripping out of my chest, I spun as the nightmare’s talons lashed out. They gouged into my arm and shoulders, but I didn’t care. I could move. I was free. But how?

I charged toward the monster’s sickening maw and dove beneath its reach. Pent-up adrenaline surged through my body, and I hurtled forward with a speed and strength that was far beyond me.

But the thing spun far faster than something its size should have been able to move. Its jaws snapped open, and it screeched with a dissonant cry that warped the air around me.

I dodged and dove across the pavement, screaming at the top of my lungs. Pain burst from my knees and elbows as gravel cut into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I just had to live.

Its savage claws gripped my flesh, and I felt my body rise into the air. Then I slammed into the grass. Gasping for breath, I rolled to the side. The ground shook as talons sank deep beside me, barely missing my skull. Half crawling, I scrambled over the grass, desperately searching for any kind of cover, but I was trapped against the side of a moonlit house.

How?

The nightmare loomed above me and spread its glistening jaws wide.

Summoning every ounce of strength in my body, I abruptly turned and charged back toward it. Its head snapped down, but I dashed beneath its centipede-like belly and darted for our neighbors’ bushes. As I ran, I called the darkness to me. Ice water flowed over my skin, and shadows and streams of darkness wound around me, the only trick I knew.

As the thing spun, I crashed over the hedge and rolled across the grass. Then I clambered to my feet and ducked into shadows cast by the adjacent house. I called the shadows to me, every ounce of darkness the night had to give.

Panting but trying not to make a sound, I pressed my back against the wall. Darkness floated around me like a deep mist—though somehow, I could see through it.

The thing was searching. Its flytrap-like head snapped toward me, and I stifled a wail.

Its attention didn’t waver. Could it see me?

Of course it could. It was a nightmare. Certainly, it could see me cowering in the shadows, magic or no. But it didn’t move to strike or look way.

Hope sparked. Maybe it couldn’t see me through the magical veil of darkness that I’d pulled around my body. But I was certain it knew I was here. It could probably smell my fear.

I steeled my soul. I was Savannah Caine.

When I was a waitress, before I’d known any of this was real, I’d pancaked the first werewolf that had attacked me. I’d fought off blood demons, blood drainers, and more werewolves. I had a body count before I had an ounce of control over my magic. My pulse slowed.

The thing turned its head. Then a bunch of gills opened up.

I assumed those were some stupid sensing organs for situations when it couldn’t see the hapless victim it wanted to devour.

Suddenly, it screeched, and its head snapped away from me as a roaring ball of fire slammed into it.

The monstrosity shrieked again, and the air reverberated with power and magic. It reared back to strike, but streams of flame poured toward it, billowing around its form.

Casey shouted above the roaring fire, “Savannah!”

The thing’s wings unfolded, but as it began to rise, a black shape swept around its back and leapt into the air. Moonlight glistened off the set of savage claws that sank into the nightmare’s flesh. A golden inferno of fire raging around him, Jaxson climbed hand over hand up the monster’s spine, using his claws like pitons.

Where the fuck had he come from?

With a single swipe of his claws, he shredded the wings on the right side of the thing’s body, and it fell.

He was at its throat in a second and shredded its neck and gills with his claws.

“Stand back, Laurent!” a shrill voice commanded. My aunt.

Jaxson leapt away from the gurgling beast as a green bolt of energy burst from the shadows of our porch.

The nightmare’s corpse twitched, and emerald veins of light crackled across its body. The air around me shook, and with a thunderclap, the thing’s form sucked down into nothingness.

Just like that, it was gone.

Stillness settled over the street, leaving Jaxson, Casey, and my aunt alone.

Then they began calling my name.

I pressed my back against the wall and shuddered with silent tears as their shouts echoed along the street. Jaxson’s voice pulled on my chest, and I wanted to run to him, but I couldn’t move—though this time, it wasn’t because of the sorcerer’s spells. The deep weight of the emotions churning in my heart had frozen my will to move.

Everything wrong.

I would never be able to unsee that abomination looming over me. The scent of rotten fruit still hung in the air, and I trembled at the memory of the monster’s tongue tracing over my skin.

But that wasn’t what was dragging me back into the shadows.

Kahanov had taken control of my body. I’d been a puppet. A toy, offered up to a monster.

I bared my teeth as an animalistic rage rose within me. My bloodthirsty thoughts echoed in a single chorus: