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And elves…
“Whatever, the point is, it’s way more dangerous,” Pat declared.
“So then we can visit my favorite vender today?”
“No! We’ll budget for better potions.”
“There is nowe’llin this, dear brother,” I reminded him. “Potions are my responsibility. Not yours, since humans can’t even use them.”
It wasn’t entirely true—some very low-grade potions were safe for human consumption, but they were so low-grade they didn’t do much healing and were all but useless. (Humans, apparently, couldn’t safely metabolize magic.)
Pat fishmouthed for a moment, and my phone chirped.
“Oh, look! Joy texted us, with the safety emoji!” I held up my phone displaying our sibling safe code—the duck emoji. “Let’s go.”
I took a step toward Pat’s car—ignoring my older brother who was growling under his breath as he resentfully rested an arm on his bloated stomach.
“I never signed up for this kind of disrespect,” Pat complained as he ambled over to the driver’s side. “To think how cute you were as a kitten.”
I looked away for a moment. I swore I could feel a brush of magic, but it hadn’t solidified into a specific sensation, so I didn’t know what kind of supernatural was causing it.
“You know,” Pat started. “I was thinking—”
A noise—a high pitched, throbbing sound I felt in my bones—rumbled down the street. It was loud, but there was something about the noise that felt like it was scratching at the inside of my skull.
I cringed, until the pitch of the sound crawled out of my hearing registry.
Dogs howled and barked, and Pat turned in a circle, his eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
I started to unzip my backpack, preparing to dig out my daggers. “I’m not sure.”
The jagged noise of glass breaking filled the air, replacing the ringing left in my ears.
Down the street—in the direction the noise had come from—windows cracked and then shattered, raining glass down on unlucky pedestrians.
None of the windows near us were destroyed—it seemed like we were too far away from the source of the noise.
One block up, someone dropped, falling to their knees as they clutched their ears—I was pretty sure she had to be a werewolf based on her reaction.
What’s going on?
Pat put his hands on my shoulders and maneuvered me so I was boxed between him and his car. “You okay?”
I put a hand on his arm, trying to reassure both him and myself. “Yeah. But Pat—I sensed magic before the noise started.”
Pat swore. “Stay here. Get in the car, lock it, and then call Joy. Do you understand?” He already had his cellphone out with an outgoing call flashing on its screen.
I yanked his car door open. “Got it. Good luck.”
He waved, then took off running down the street. “Hey,” he shouted into his cellphone. “We have an incident on main street—it’s magic based.”
I hit the button on the door to lock the car, then shifted into my cat form so I could crawl into the back seat and peer out the back window.
I don’t think this was the tracker’s doing. Based on his current patterns, this is too big. He knows just one human will make me stop, so why make such a big fuss that will instantly draw the Curia Cloisters? Unless he’s luring Pat away to grab him?
It didn’t match his style—he would have found an easier way to grab my brother.
I craned my neck as I peered down the street. The werewolf still hadn’t recovered, and based on the number of pedestrians now crouching on the sidewalk, it looked like the shattering glass had caused some injuries, too.
