Authors: Sydney Bristow
How did this affect my circumstances? Rather than dealing with one wolf after another, which left me no chance to think but only react, I now had time to use my magical abilities. If I didn’t try to make use of my gifts, the beasts would maul me to death.
Without wasting another moment, I pulled my left arm behind me, pushed it towards the werewolf, and grabbed a fistful of fur. With desperation making my body quiver, I shut my eyes and concentrated on sucking as much energy into my being as possible.
The wolf removed his teeth for only a moment and then bit down again, this time with greater ferocity and covering a wider area of my shoulder.
Maybe shock had diverted my pain receptors from reaching my brain, but the way the beast shook its head, viciously shaking my body side to side made it difficult for me to regain control of my body. I’d only managed to stay somewhat stable by clenching a fist of his hair.
Energy mounted inside me, and I directed it to the left side of my body, specifically through my left arm. It shot past my elbow, surged through my forearm and wrist, and erupted from my fingers.
The teeth clamped onto my shoulder fell away, indicating that my magical attack knocked the beast off his feet. Pain sizzled across my right shoulder, but I did my best to overlook the agony. I suspected that the flesh there was stripped and gory, but checking it would only incite fear that I might not withstand this attack. I looked back.
The werewolf lay fifteen feet away against a steel lamppost fixture.
The final wolf had just finished the transformation process. He leapt toward me.
A moment later, a paw looped around my right leg, pulling my legs out from under me. My elbows rammed into the ground, sending bolts of misery sizzling up my arms. They were now useless since the pain spread to my fingers, and I couldn’t feel them. If I tried to pull myself to my feet, the streaks of torment bolting through my arms would make it difficult to determine the amount of pressure I should use to push off the concrete. That meant I couldn’t count on those appendages to tell me when I’d maximized the amount of energy needed to accomplish the feat.
Grunting in anguish, I pushed one forearm ahead of the other in an attempt to pull myself toward the door, but I moved too slowly. At this pace, I’d never make it to the door before this werewolf clawed me to death. Since my body was momentarily useless, I had to once more rely on magic. I swiveled around, crying out in pain now that I’d utilized the last shred of adrenaline available to me. My energy level subsided, my thoughts slowed and lurched like car tires passing over speed bumps, and the pain in my shoulder throbbed and swelled. I screamed in pain and surveyed the scene behind me.
The werewolf I’d kicked in the crotch still lay on the ground, out of play in this battle. The concussed werewolf lay in a heap by itself, blinking as though it had double vision and attempted to reset his eyes so he’d only see one scene unfold before him instead of two. The werewolf I’d sent flying into the lamppost now got to its feet. He opened his mouth wide and displayed saliva-slicked teeth that looked more fitting for a shark than a beast that walked the Earth.
But none of those werewolves mattered because the final wolf now sprung toward me. By reflex, I lifted my left hand and to shield him from crashing down on me, not that it would stop a two-hundred and fifty pound animal from crushing my one-hundred and ten pound frame. Surprisingly, I felt tremendous force shooting through me that burst from my hand immediately afterwards.
When the beast didn’t hammer my body into the concrete, I opened my eyes.
The werewolf who’d just attacked me bowled into the first beast I’d slammed against the lamppost. They clambered around on the ground, kicking out at each other to find their footing and mount another attack.
The pressure in my left arm evaporated, and I no longer saw barely visible pulses of energy shooting toward the werewolves. My pain, fright, blood loss, and lack of focus all contributed to my inability to continue the barrage.
If I couldn’t use magic, I’d have no chance to escape these werewolves, especially now that the first two that had attacked scrambled to their feet. With no time to spare, I spun around, cringing at the pain pulsating through my right side, but I refused to let it hinder my determination to obtain my goal: getting through the back door to safety.
Now that the distress no longer spread through my arms, although I’d lost some mobility in my right arm due to the werewolf bite, I’d crammed my knees against the ground, and used my left hand to push to my feet. Just moving my right arm sent torrents of misery through my shoulder, but I did my best to block my mind from acknowledging it and used my mental capacity to achieve my objective.
My legs hadn’t incurred an injury, but the loss of blood made me weaker than normal, so I couldn’t race to the door. Unfortunately, I’d overestimated the speed with which I could run, and my shoe clipped a portion of the concrete that had buckled up from the cement.
Flung forward, I tried to regain my footing, but the effort just pitched me forward with greater speed. I angled my body, so my left shoulder would take the brunt of the impact. A second later, I didn’t so much as crash to the ground as I skidded across the pebble-strewn concrete, ripping my shirt and exposing red scrapes across my deltoid and bicep.
I’d prevented my head from smacking against the ground, but I was still disoriented from the impact. I bit back the pain and suspected that my frantic urge to get back to my feet jumbled my vision. I blinked a few times to reassert my regular eyesight. When I accomplished that, I once more pushed off my left forearm and rose to my feet.
Without glancing back at the werewolves who were by now prepared to launch another assault, I felt panic boosting me toward the door with greater speed than before. I closed the distance to the door. I reached for the handle, clutched it, and whipped it open. I jumped into a building, smelling of beer and peanuts and turned around to shut the door and lock it.
In the slit between the door and the threshold, a gargantuan paw swiped the air.
I shut the door, snipping a few fingernails, which made the door bounce back open a few inches. Rather than trying to slam the door shut with all my might in hopes of severing the paw, I jabbed my elbow down on it, and a second later, it disappeared from view. I closed the door and turned the deadbolt.
Safe and secure, I let out a heavy sigh and half smiled at having survived the attack. My happiness didn’t last long because when I glanced at my right shoulder, I almost lost my breath.
The wolf had sunk his teeth so deep into my skin that it stripped flesh and revealed bone. Blood seeped and slipped across my skin below it, dripping to the ground into a steadily growing pool. It looked like someone had taken an electric knife to my shoulder and enjoyed causing as much damage as possible.
Shocked and overwhelmed by so much blood and ripped cartilage, I felt my mind growing hazy, disoriented. My back slumped against the back door. I glanced around and discovered that I had entered a dim supply room with gray metal storage units containing jugs of fast food condiments and boxes of napkins, plastic cups, and other items restaurants used in bulk on a daily basis.
I felt my cell phone poking my upper right thigh, and I reflexively reached for it with my right hand, hoping to contact Kendall so she could find me and take me to a hospital. Upon moving my shoulder, a streak of agony shot through it. My vision blurred. I no longer had enough strength to remove the phone from my pocket.
A moment later, darkness claimed me.
I looked down at my unconscious body and once more wished I’d had enough time to text Kendall before passing out. Now that I had a chance to examine my right shoulder without suffering from the dual effect of shock and a loss of blood, I realized that panic and fear had caused me to overestimate the size of the werewolf bite and the damage it had done to my shoulder. At least the blood had stopped seeping from my wound.
I glanced around the room and discovered that my body lay behind a metal unit against the back wall. From every angle in the room, except the one from the door I’d used to escape the werewolves, no one would notice my body because large cardboard boxes rose three feet from the ground, camouflaging my figure. Since there were so many metal units in this room, and the one I lay behind seemed more like a hodgepodge of boxes that were loaded with rarely used items, those who entered this room from the door at the other end of the room wouldn’t even notice my body.
I moved across the room in stealth mode – the more I astral projected, the quicker I got at crossing great distances while little time passed – and zipped through one wall and entered the hall, hoping to see either Nolan or Kendall. Recalling Grams’s warning not to astral project, I wondered if this counted. After all, I hadn’t fallen asleep and decided to wander the world as a spirit. I’d lost consciousness. In that regard, I presumed this journey didn’t count. Since those who had been put under by anesthesia for surgery couldn’t recall any dreams while they’d been knocked out, I considered this in the same context. Therefore, I didn’t have to worry about any other evil entities entering our world due to my current condition.
About a dozen people sat or stood at the bar, while more than a handful of people played pool at the two tables, and even more were scattered at the circular or rectangular tables across the polished, wooden floors. But neither of my bandmates had arrived yet. It meant little time had eclipsed since I’d physically entered the storage room.
Nevertheless, even if I found them, I wouldn’t be able to communicate with them, so I needed to get in touch with someone who could see me. So far, I only knew of two people who could see me or sense me in an astral state: Zephora and Celestina.
Zephora wouldn’t want to see me. Visiting her would only irritate her and might convince her to speed up her timetable on ending my life. Celestina, on the other hand, had recently choked off my air supply and threatened to kill me.
Despite that, I still believed she cared for me. At least, I hoped she did. Teenagers, especially those who’d just entered adolescence, had emotions that rose and fell like a seesaw. I’d experienced the same emotional turmoil more than a handful of years ago. Nevertheless, the last few times I’d seen Celestina, I’d noticed she’d become more stubborn and impatient, two characteristics her mother had displayed nearly every time we’d talked. Like mother, like daughter?
As a parental figure, Alexis had inadvertently shown her daughter how to relate to others. Under those circumstances, how could Celestina not pick up some of those traits? Taking that information in stride, I realized that if I wanted Celestina to develop into a well-adjusted adult, I needed to play a more important part in her life, since she had no one else. I appreciated that Grams had been a great role model and someone I would emulate in order to guide Celestina.
I just prayed she’d give me a chance to communicate with her. After all, I had ended her grandmother’s life, and sure, she never liked her, but she
loved
Alexis without fault. And those visions that struck her
felt
real, which would have shaken her existence to the core, making her question my sincerity and my trustworthiness. Nonetheless, in those instances, Celestina had watched me kill her mother! She’d watched it happen, helpless to respond, unable to do anything about it. Given that, how could she trust me? How could she consider me anything but evil?
In that context, I was the murderer! I knew otherwise, since I would never harm anyone unless forced to defend myself, but Celestina didn’t know better. She’d known me for less than a week, and she’d loved her mother her entire life. How could I compete with that?
Nevertheless, I set my thoughts on her home and moments later, I appeared inside her living room. In the past, I’d actually passed through walls, crossed streets, and more to reach my destination. As I became more comfortable and more adventurous in spirit form, I trusted the process enough to center my thoughts on the where I wanted to go and soon afterwards, I teleported there.
Not a sound emanated from anywhere in the house. Detecting no one in the living room, I peeked into the kitchen, but the room was vacant as well. I roamed down the hall toward the three bedrooms. Neither Alexis nor Celestina inhabited their rooms. My hopes sank.
Whenever someone warned me against doing something, I always found it impossible to resist following their advice. As a child, I climbed off second-story roofs, ate rotten eggs, and stole a sucker from a candy store – just to see what would happen. (Regarding the sucker, I didn’t get caught, but I returned to the store the next day and made sure no one saw me put it back.) As an adult, I still couldn’t resist giving in to temptation. In this instance, it meant following my curiosity by snooping around for Zephora.
Before nearing the room she inhabited a couple days earlier, the one Delphine had previously called her own, I stopped at the doorway and peeked inside. It was empty. As much as I wanted to end her reign before it began, I sighed with relief. Even if she still suffered the effects of drug withdrawal and couldn’t call upon all the power she could otherwise utilize, I felt completely overwhelmed by the prospect of confronting her.
How could I defeat a witch who not only knew every spell, charm, and incantation, but who could telepathically contact every paranormal creature to kill me? Having killed Darius elevated my confidence, but his abilities didn’t compare Zephora’s. And my gifts couldn’t even compete with Alexis’s! So what level of resistance could I possibly pose to the most powerful mage in our line?
Facing those doubts left me with a pessimistic outlook. A second later, however, I heard voices coming from the front door. I hurried into Celestina’s room. If either Zephora or Alexis returned, they would most likely enter their own rooms, not Celestina’s, which smelled of fruit-flavored candy. Sure enough, I spotted a couple opened packages of Starburst and Twizzlers lying on top of her dresser beside a framed close-up snapshot of Alexis and Celestina, their smiling faces filling every inch of the photo. Seeing the photograph validated my fear. It would be difficult to instill good values and morals inside my niece…when she shared such a strong connection with her mother. Beside what had been a Planters Peanuts plastic container that held more than five hundred Skittles, I caught sight of another framed photo of Alexis and Celestina in costumes of characters from the Harry Potter books for Halloween, this one taken perhaps a year ago. Celestina had dressed up as Hermione, while Alexis had donned a tremendous amount of pink to emulate Dolores Umbridge. How fitting!
“Here we are,” said Alexis from the hallway. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Cool,” said Brandon.
What the hell?
My thoughts swirled as my breath came quick. Why had he come here with Alexis?
“You want a drink?” she asked.
“Sure. Hit me up.”
She couldn’t have kidnapped him, because otherwise, she wouldn’t have invited him inside and offered him a drink. Brandon had better instincts than to forsake our gig in order to visit Alexis. On the other hand, I’d done the exact same thing, albeit for different reasons, so who was I to judge?
Not hearing another person enter the building, I stepped closer to the door, and peered into the hall, hoping to see them in order to discover if Alexis had tricked Brandon into following my sister into her home. Unfortunately, neither came into view.
“Tastes good,” Brandon said.
“I taste even better,” Alexis said in a seductive tone. “Come over here.”
What the fuck!
Silence stretched for what seemed like hours while I looked into the hallway hoping they would appear, but as the seconds ticked by, I looked into a vacant hall. Seething, I found it difficult to push down the anger pumping through my veins. Images of them embracing took hold of my mind. First, Alexis forced Kendall and Brandon to kiss, and then, after she encouraged them to consider the possibility that they should be a couple, she welcomed Brandon into her home and flirted with him?
“Why am I not surprised,” Alexis said, her tone practically dripping with carnal delight, “that you’re such a good kisser?”
“Yeah, it was pretty hot,” Brandon agreed. “Damn, I’m crazy for you.”
Did he just quote a Madonna song?
“Let’s try it again,” Alexis said. “But this time, I want you to touch me…here.”
Sweet Jesus.
“I feel,” he admitted in a shy, tremulous voice, “like a virgin.”
Yes, the biggest headbanger in our band was a huge Madonna fan when it came to romance.
“You’re gonna feel like a man…when I’m through with you.”
This sounded like the worst pornography flick I’d
never
seen, not that I’d seen more than a couple. I wanted to run down the hall, grab Brandon, and yank him out of the house…only in my spiritual form, I couldn’t do anything but wander around like a ghost. I could reach out with my senses and locate Celestina, but in a perverse twist I hadn’t foreseen, I wanted to find out how this strange interlude would play out.
Brandon’s cell phone played the song, “Don’t Wanna Lose You,” by Gloria Estefan. “Did you butt-dial me?” he asked.
Alexis said, “No, ignore it.”
Wait a second! Yesterday, I recalled Brandon adding Estefan’s song as a ringtone, and when I asked if it had anything to do with Kendall, he gave me a sarcastic expression, but I knew he’d done exactly as I’d asked. So if Kendall’s ringtone had kicked in, probably in an attempt to discover his whereabouts (and mine), why would he ask Alexis if she’d butt-dialed him?
Unless my sister had somehow manipulated Brandon into believing that she…was Kendall!
I shouldn’t have been surprised she had that ability. After all, Zephora had granted Darius that ability, so it made sense that others in our line might have that gift as well. If she could enter one person’s mind, she most certainly had practice forcing them to believe what she wanted them to see, feel, and hear.
Estefan’s song ended, signifying that Brandon had sent the call to voicemail.
“You want me,” Alexis said with an aching passion. “Admit it!”
“You’re damn right, I do.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Get into the groove.”
I heard a shuffling, followed by silence. They had probably embraced. If I hadn’t suspected that Alexis had mindfucked Brandon into believing she was Kendall, I would have left already, disinterested in hearing one of my best friends getting tricked into bedding my sister. But how could I leave when…
I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t do anything. Yet, I stayed here, glued to the door, curious to find out how this freaky escapade took place. Now who was the kinky one? No, that wasn’t it. I couldn’t let him make this mistake, not when he thought Kendall stood beside him! I realized that I remained in place because I was looking out for Kendall. I didn’t want her to get hurt, and if she ever discovered that Alexis had impersonated her to bed Brandon, she would be hurt in a torturous way, while at the same time fuming with rage.
I related it to watching the aftermath of a car wreck from the safety of my car as I passed by. In that instance, as much as you wanted to speed up, something innate inside you practically forced you to see the wreckage, to examine the participants, to watch as the police and paramedics attended to the injured.
Or I could just admit that I was perverted. Granted, my lack of experience when it came to sex now resulted in a form of voyeurism. In all certainty, I found the idea of watching or listening to Brandon having sex…completely repulsive. I regarded him as a brother that I looked out for when he drank too much or when he allowed his impulsiveness or spontaneity to result in making bad decisions.
But the idea of impersonating another person in order to have sex with the one you cared for left a strong impression on me because I wished that I could be someone else…while in Nolan’s presence. I hated that I couldn’t give in to my feelings around him. I despised the notion that, every time we touched, my lifespan shortened. I wished, just for one day, that I could reveal my feelings to Nolan…just to see what happened, just to see if he’d reciprocate them in a way that went beyond a kiss.
Their footsteps crossed the hallway and passed into Alexis’s bedroom. A few seconds later, springs popped as their bodies fell onto a bed.
“Say you want me,” Alexis said.
“You’re damn right, I do,” he said, unable to contain his passion. “I want you. Goddammit, Kendall, I want all of you. Right here, right now.”
Springs coiled and the bed squeaked as they no doubt removed each other’s clothing. I left my niece’s bedroom, roamed down the hall, and stopped before the threshold of Alexis’s bedroom, wincing—fearful of what I might find.