Connor chose five amber-eyed wolves, each the size of a small pony. He explained that they “shined the brightest,” which made them perfect candidates for our mission. I don’t know exactly what he meant by it, but I do sense that they are loyal and eager to help.
Standing across the street with Connor next to me in human form, I make a circling motion with my pointer finger. “I need the five of you to wrangle everyone who is outside the house into it. Feel free to be as scary as you want.”
There are excited thumps of tails and small yips. The idea of herding drunk humans sounds like a delightful game, especially when they get to scare the crap out of them.
“Once they are all inside, I need you to guard the house,” I explain to the wolves who are practically vibrating with excitement. “No one goes in, and I’ll make sure no one comes out.” With a leading smile, I point toward the house. “Go scare some humans.”
As fast as bullets, they shoot across the street, leaping over cars and howling like the nightmares they embody. Their sharp claws scratch grooves into the pavement and front lawn. They circle the house, growling menacingly and dropping low to prowl slowly toward the partygoers. At the mere sight of them, people on the front lawn scream, dropping their drinks and stampeding for the door.
“Please don’t hurt them,” I shout when I notice a wolf’s very sharp teeth get awfully close to a fleeing individual’s shoulder. “I really don’t want to have to patch them up too.”
Even over the loud thumping of the music, there’s an audible crack of splintering wood followed by shrieks of terrified humans.
“And there goes the back fence.” I sigh, shivering in my red ASU hoodie. “Do you think people will buy that the party just got really rowdy?”
Connor shrugs and wraps his arm around my shoulders. I cuddle into his warmth while I observe the havoc of wolf shifters left to their own devices. Anxiety begins creeping in as the first part of my plan unfolds. What I’m about to do is incredibly illegal and probably morally wrong, but I also brought Felix back from the dead. That’s considered the worst sin of the supernatural world and holds a death sentence if caught, so why is this any different?
Felix was going to blink out of existence, says a voice in my head that sounds a lot like my conscience.Now you’re covering up a vicious crime with a victim who will probably never know what happened to her.
Yeah, but Gina is literally evil incarnate,I argue, grasping the blue stone hanging from my neck, hoping to siphon courage from all the Volcov witches who wore it before me.
This isn’t about who she is.The inner voice sounds patient, but also kind of like a know-it-all.This is about who you are.
I’m someone who protects the people I love no matter the cost,I mentally growl.
I squeeze the amulet tighter. The delicate setting bites into my palm, and the stone thrums with a low glow that peeks through my fingers. Thick clouds appear over what was once a clear night, and without warning, a torrential downpour pounds the ground. We’re instantly soaked.
Connor looks down at me with raised brows, his hair acting like tiny rivers as the water rides the currents of his shaggy brown curls.
“Inner conflict and magic don’t mix,” I grumble, wiping my own hair from my face.
“This is the right thing,” he insists, hugging me closer. He’s still surprisingly warm despite the cold water flooding our clothes.
“That’s questionable,” I shout over the cacophony of thudding rain. “But I’m going to do it anyway.”
He nods that he heard me, then motioning his head toward the house, he comments, “Won’t leave now.”
Sure enough, all of the party attendees are hiding inside where it’s dry and safe from the enormous wolves still growling and snarling—or at least they think they are safe. If the shifters really wanted to kill them, everyone in the house would already be dead, but we’re here to save lives, not end them.
“Time to be the big bad witch,” I state, psyching myself up before crossing the street.
Connor follows silently beside me, his gaze constantly sweeping for trouble in the darkness.
Sensing my approach, the wolves turn to face outward, enacting the second half of their duties—keep anyone from approaching the house. I feel bad that they are stuck out in the rain, but Connor is right. No one is going to want to go out in this weather, ensuring the time I need to clean everything up.
I approach the front door with as much calm as I can manage, focusing on the next part of my plan. I brace my hands on the red-stained wooden door and close my eyes. Because I can’t see every person inside, I have to search using my mind’s eye, mentally reaching for their living souls.
Invisible to the naked eye, my magic flows through the door like snaking tendrils, curling around each spark of life. I try not to look too deeply, not wanting to know what lives in the depths of people that I will have to see every day. It’s hard to look someone in the eye when you know the darkest parts of their soul.
Downstairs in a back room, my senses touch two beloved souls, and I wrap them in safe warmth. My magic giddily brushes against the seedling of love that I left inside Donovan, brightening its never-ending glow. I frown when my magic touches Nolan, his soul a flickering thing inside him, weak and with too much darkness. Tears prick my eyes as I feel his inner pain, but I push forward, needing to locate every soul inside the house.
Once I have each life within my magical grasp, I hold an image in my mind of living statues, safe and frozen in place. This is far more complex than when I froze those two girls in the bathroom, so I am extra careful that what I want is very explicit, leaving no room for magical interpretations.
With each breath, I hold an image in my mind of how I want the spell to perform. First is the thumping sensation of hearts beating in a calm, even pulse. Next, it’s feeling the humid air filling lungs, feeding oxygen into the blood, before releasing back out into the world. Then, I continue through the body, making sure everything remains sturdy and functioning before I finally whisper, “Freeze.”
Connor and the wolves sneeze, jarring me back to the here and now. Clearing my throat, I croak, “We can go inside now.”
Gently pushing me aside, Connor turns the knob on the front door and shoves it open, promptly smacking a bunch of people who were huddled in the foyer. They topple like dominoes, falling to the ground with no way of bracing themselves.
