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“Holy—” Vivienne began, staring at the sight. Dear God! She blinked to make sure she wasn’t imagining it. No. She wasn’t. When had her life become the basis for the next bloody movie? This was a scene straight out of Van Helsing, except the wolf man wasn’t Hugh Jackman, but Conall, and damn it, these things were not supposed to happen in real life!
“—Shit!” Drew finished. Someone had to say it, and Vivienne’s mouth was currently hanging open, unable to formulate coherent words as Conall’s body continued to change. His lips pulled back in a snarl and she blinked at the length of his canines. They hadn’t been that long before. No, she would have felt them, with him using his lips so intimately against her. An image of him behind her, biting her shoulder, suddenly pushed to the forefront of her memory and she clasped a hand over her mouth.
At that moment, Max cursed. His body arched off of the ground and both women looked down, jumping back when he turned blue, and black bled into his hair like water. His eyes opened, and swirling silver-blue stared up at them moments before he disappeared. He was there one moment, and then he wasn’t.
Vivienne reached for Drew’s hand and yanked.
Second floor. Fire escape. Window. Now.
Men in black clothes who looked like ninjas had just attacked them, Conall had changed into a wolf-man-thing, and Max was some sort of alien with freaky eyes. They were getting the hell out of here! Questions later. Safety now.
They’d just made it to the door that would take them up flights off stairs when it suddenly opened and Vivienne found herself feet away from one of the ninjas. She didn’t think. She reacted. She kicked her leg out, catching him between his thighs. It was the one thing you weren’t supposed to do in karate class, but she was bending the rules a bit. Anticipating he’d double over, she brought her knee up, and connected it with his face.
She heard the words “shit” and “bitch” as he went down, one hand between his legs and the other at his nose, but she was already moving past him, Drew trailing behind her. She’d reached the second step when she froze and moved backward. Five more of them were advancing on her. Vivienne’s heart stopped for a few seconds as she frantically looked around. The man she’d kicked and kneed was getting up, and Vivienne and Drew sidestepped him and moved back into the lobby, their backs plastered against the walls as the other men advanced. Vivienne looked over to where Conall and Max, both changed into unfamiliar things, were fighting with the others.
“Grab the girl. Take her back to covenant.”
One of the men was speaking, but she couldn’t tell which one. They were all masked, and only their eyes and a portion of their brows were visible.
Drew and Vivienne clutched at each other.
“Which one?”
“Both.”
One of the men stepped forward and grabbed her arm, and Vivienne reacted by hauling back her other hand and aiming straight at his face. He sidestepped her punch, but he couldn’t sidestep the knee to his groin. She was getting good at kneeing people.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and Vivienne took that moment to scream. Following her lead, Drew did the same.
“By Luna, grab them already!”
The men advanced, and she heard Conall calling her name. A hand was suddenly at her throat, squeezing. She closed her eyes. This was it. This was how she was going to die.
Her body grew cold, as if brushed by a stiff winter wind, and then an almost burning heat swarmed through her. The man holding her neck released her immediately, clutching his hand and shaking it as he stepped away.
There was a slight sound, like the far-off crashing of waves across cliffs, followed by a voice she’d all but given up on ever hearing again. She wasn’t speaking English or French, but whatever the language, Vivienne would always recognize the slightly accented, level pitch of mother’s voice.
Dazed, she could only blink as the men’s eyes widened and they backed away. Lifting a hand to her throat, she coughed. Drew was instantly at her side, dark eyes searching out the owner of the melodic voice.
“What is that?” Drew finally asked.
“Show yourself, witch!”. They looked around, staring from Vivienne to Drew, and then at the wall behind them.
Witch? Her mother was not a witch.
Evelyn’s voice grew louder, her pitch higher. Whatever was being said was being repeated over and over again.
“Reverto!” The word echoed, and then came, “Abolesco!” And then they were being interchanged, until they sounded as one. Latin, Vivienne concluded, unsure of why she knew that or how she knew that the word reverto meant “return” and abolesco meant “vanish.”
