(As with all snippets posted here, this is a lightly edited version of the rough draft. There will likely be additional edits/corrections made before publication. Also, all copyright protections apply.—ASG)
The Witch in the Woods
Five miles outside of town, the SUV slowed to a stop and idled at the crossroads. I held the steering wheel in a death grip and leaned back, considering my options. This was it. If I drove on, there would be no turning back. Gemma would “feel” me the moment I crossed into her lands. The fact her house lay several miles away didn’t matter. She’d know, just as she’d know if I chickened out and ran back to town.
Not long before she disappeared, Mom and I made the drive to see Gemma. Mom stopped the car right here that day. Looking back, she sat as rigid and looked as uncertain as I felt. When I asked her about it, she explained what she called Gemma’s arcane security system. Her wards would warn her of anyone approaching. Spells would turn them aside unless she approved their presence on her lands. If that failed, well, mom said not to risk the “what happens now” factor where Gemma’s concerned.
That was one of Mom’s many lessons I took to heart. It resonated through me almost as strongly as the magics from the Rift.
I hissed out a breath, cursing softly for letting memories distract me. Then I inhaled sharply. Ten yards in front of the SUV, a large, tawny-colored feline slowly crossed the road. Mouth suddenly dry, pulse beating a loud rhythm in my ears, the fingers of my right hand slowly pried themselves from the steering wheel. Even more slowly, I reached for the .1911 resting on the passenger seat. Not that it would do much beyond pissing the cat off if I had to use it.
As if reading my thoughts, the cat swung its large head in my direction. Green eyes blazed above a scarred snout and fangs that left no doubt about the damage it could inflict if it wanted. The fact it also outweighed me didn’t reassure me any.
I waited, holding the gun in my lap, hoping the cat moved along. I didn’t want to kill her—assuming I could—not when her teats told me she probably had a litter somewhere nearby.
I didn’t dare close my eyes, but I could roll them. This was just what we didn’t need: a little of monster cats that bore more than a passing resemblance to the long extinct smilodon. Assuming I got out of this alive, I needed to warn Gemma. Then I needed to let the Council know.
The cat gave me one last look and padded off, disappearing between two of the abandoned houses down the road. Relief washed over me, and I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Then I swallowed hard. The cat’s appearance was a reminder monsters bigger, badder, and meaner than me lived in the area and I was the trespasser. If I continued down this road, I risked everything and for what?
What the hell did Gemma want with me?
The primal part of me wanted to turn and run back to town just as fast as possible. Another part wanted to embrace the danger and release the darker part of me from the bonds of this mortal form. But the rational part knew better. I could not become one of the monsters, not if I wanted to stay true to myself and to all my family stood for over the years. But it was so tempting, especially as the wild magic of the rift called to me.
Like it or not, I had only one choice: drive on and find out what the Seer wanted from me.
I slid the transmission into gear and slowly drove on. As I did, I moved from one world to another. The road, well-maintained until now, turned rough. Potholes created by time, weather, and other things best not thought about, put the SUV’s suspension to the test. Overhead, the once clear sky turned dark. Clouds swirled as the wind picked up. Lightning steaked across the horizon. I didn’t need the faded red and yellow signs warning the unwary of the danger presented by nearing the rift. I felt the wild magics in the air even through my personal wards and the wards Razor place on the SUV.
This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
What the hell was going on?
I slowed again, taking careful note of my surroundings, looking for any indication of a chance since my last visit with Gemma. Nothing. At least nothing easily noticed. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.
Before the rifts appeared, this area had been part of the suburbs north of Dallas. Farm and ranch land turned into housing developments and business parks. Then the Upheaval happened. One of the first North American rifts appeared less than twenty miles north of my current location. Like anywhere a rift opened, wild magics escaped and things changed, not always for the good. Hell, rarely for the good. The normals living here fled to the safety of the Dallas or Fort Worth. Some moved further north to Oklahoma City or Tulsa. Others fled south to Austin and San Antonio. They abandoned their homes and offices. Most left with what they wore and the few things they could throw into a car. No one wanted to take time to pack up properly.
Who could blame them when the world suddenly went mad?
They saw family and friends turn into things they didn’t understand, things they thought only existed in books and movies. No one knew why the rifts opened. All anyone knew for certain was that the authorities told them to leave and report to processing centers well away from the rift where they would be checked out and given any assistance needed.
Of course, in the immediate aftermath, that assistance often amounted to heavy sedation or jail to “protect” those not changed by the rifts.
In the years since, some braved the dangers long enough to collect their belongings. Most simply walked away without looking back. Scavengers took what they could. Now nature was reclaiming the area. But it was a twisted nature that made the area look like a scene from a dystopian story. Houses and office buildings stood abandoned, windows broken and roofs sagging. With the overgrown yards, peeling paint, and cracked concrete sidewalks, it was hard to believe this had been an upper middle-class neighborhood before the Upheaval.
In another mile or two, the scenery would change again. Buildings would give way to fields and then to trees. The latter had been encouraged to grow by Gemma, creating a buffer of sorts between the town, her lands, and the rift beyond.
I’d been a child, probably no more than five or six, when she first moved out here. No one understood why she left the relative safety of town, but no one wanted to be the one to tell her they thought the move foolish. Not that it mattered all that much to my parents, who brought me out here to learn from her and to understand there are predators out there bigger and meaner than me.
Mom taught me it was my job to learn how to be deadlier.
I cursed softly as unshed tears burned my eyes drove on. I needed to stop thinking about what was and what might have been. I needed to find out what Gemma wanted and sitting here wasn’t getting that done.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I pulled off the road and headed down a narrow dirt drive through trees that vaguely resembled oak trees. A shiver ran through me as I did. Unless Gemma lifted the wards, my cellphone wouldn’t work out here. There was no way to send for help if I needed it. Fortunately, I trusted the old woman, at least to a point. Besides, Red knew where I was. At the very least, he’d send someone out to check on me if I didn’t report back within a reasonable time. Of course, Red being Red, he might contact the Council and leave it to them to follow up. Not that I blamed him. No one from the local Zone wanted to cross Gemma.
At least no one with an ounce of common sense and a reasonable sense of self-preservation.
A few minutes later, I parked in front of the small house, little more than a cottage. As I did, the front door opened. Gemma Blackrock stood framed in the doorway. Her iron-grey hair hung in a single braid down her back. She wore a pair of black slacks with a white cotton shirt tucked beneath a wide black leather belt. Her blue eyes scanned the front yard, as if making sure I brought no one with me. Then she smiled and lifted a hand in greeting, the morning sun glinting off her rings and the silver cuff on that wrist.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Ripley.” She stepped aside so I could enter the house.
It never ceased to amaze me how normal the house seemed. At least so long as you didn’t look beyond the obvious. If you did, you couldn’t miss the power resonating through it, the various magical implements that would send those unfamiliar with Gemma and those like her running in fear.
“Red said it was important.” I sat on the well-worn sofa and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “How may I help you, ma’am, and is this something that might be best suited for your student, Rip, or for the Council Marshal, Ripley?” It felt strange to phrase it that way, but her answer would tell me a great deal about why she sent for me.
“That is a question I don’t have an answer for, Ripley.” Her usually serene expression looked troubled. “At least not yet.”
“Perhaps if you explained why you sent for me?”
“Of course, but please bear with this old woman for a few minutes.”
She rested a light hand on my shoulder before moving into the kitchen. Part of me wanted to get up and follow. But I knew what she expected. We’d danced this particular dance before. She would leave me to think about what she said—and hadn’t said—while she brewed tea and produced some treat I wouldn’t be able to resist. She did it the first time I came to visit with my parents and she continued to do so now that I was an adult.
“Now is the time for talk.” Gemma sat across from me, teacup and saucer balanced on one knee. A plate of brownies fresh out of the oven sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “I assume Redmond explained my call.”
“He said you sounded worried.” I wasn’t about to say terrified, not until I knew more. “He also said you told him you’d Seen something. He said it’s bad, and it’s coming this way.”
She nodded before sipping her tea. “What do you know about the Upheaval?”
I blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topics.
“I know what we’re taught in schools and as well as what my parents taught me. When I became a Marshal, I studied the data the Council possesses on what happened. I guess I know as much as some and more than most. Why?”
“I’ve talked with you about my life before the Upheaval some, Ripley, but not a great deal. But you know I’ve always had my abilities.”
I nodded.
“I knew something was wrong before the rifts opened. I Saw something. At the time, I didn’t understand what it meant. I saw a world like ours but different, one where our kind walked openly but where the humans feared us. I thought it was a warning. I passed it on to the Council and others, telling them we had to take a firm hand over our people to keep the peace. The changes that came with the rifts would terrify most of the humans. They would react with panic if any of our kind acted against them.”
I thought for a moment, remembering my lessons. The Council existed even before the Upheaval, created to help our kind hide in plain sight. Something that became increasingly difficult as technology advanced.
“It helped that the Council was already working with the federal government before the Upheaval. Safeguards had quietly been put into place over the years to protect us and give us the same fundamental rights normals enjoyed.”
Gemma smiled at me like a proud teacher. “Part of our promise to the government, done to reassure not only the politicians but the public as well, included expanding the role of the Marshals. Before the Upheaval, there had never been more than one or two of them at a time in the United States. Their main role was to make sure none of our people went rogue and inadvertently revealed our existence to the humans. Afterwards, the Marshals became our police, enforcing not only human law but Council law as well. It helped reassure the humans we aren’t really monsters.”
I’d heard the same thing from my folks growing up, so I nodded.
“My dream last night felt much the same as that one so long ago.”
I inhaled sharply. I didn’t know what life had been like before the Upheaval. But I sure as hell didn’t want to live through a repeat because my gut told me it would be a nightmare of epic proportions and would see the death of many, both human and para.
Gemma smiled almost gently and leaned over to lightly rest a hand on my knee. “I have learned much in the years since that first dream, Ripley. I do not believe we are facing another Upheaval, at least not to the degree of that first one. However, something is coming, and it bodes ill. Unfortunately, the signs have not shown me more than that. I was hoping you might have seen or heard something that could help me bring the dream into focus.”
I started to shake my head. Then I remembered Razor’s cousins and their sudden arrival from São Paulo. Could that be related to Gemma’s dream?
“Ripley?”
“There are visitors in the Zone, specifically in town. They arrived unexpectedly last night. I think it might be time to learn why they’re here.”
“Will you let me know what you find out?”
“I will if you tell me more about your dream and why you wanted to see me instead of telling Red about it all.”
“When I told the Council about my dreams from before the Upheaval, they asked me to promise to inform them if I ever experienced anything similar. This wasn’t the same.” She shook her head before I could interrupt. “It wasn’t. But it was close. Yes, I will speak with someone from the Council as soon as you leave. But I wanted to discuss it with someone here, someone I trust to learn the truth without being swayed by the politics of the situation.” Now she smiled almost sadly. “And, yes, someone with ties to the Council should further action be needed.”
“Putting the responsibility on me.” I didn’t like it but part of me understood. “All right. I’ll go see what the visitors have to say.” I chewed my lower lip for a moment as I thought.
“Have you spoken with Starke about all this?”
The very mention of Griffin Starke had her narrowing her eyes and shaking her head, her expression turning stubborn. Not that I blamed her. Starke could be as frustrating as he was stubborn. Most of my life, I blamed it on the fact he seemed to epitomize everything most folks thought about lycans. Stubborn, proud, quick to anger, loves to fight, and always so damned cock sure he was right, no matter what. Add to that he was now the town’s police chief, and it made him a colossal pain in my ass.
“I have not, nor will I until the Council or its representative says I have to.”
The look she gave me spoke volumes. Whether I formally agreed to look into her vision or not, she had decided I was that representative. Great. Just fucking great.
“All right.” I tried to smile, knowing she saw through the attempt. “Please let me know if you See anything else. I don’t care if you think it’s related or not. I want to know. Understand?”
She smiled, all the earlier tension gone, and I cocked my head, looking at her in question.
“You are so very much like your mother, Ripley.”
A hint of sadness touched her eyes, and I swallowed hard. Even after so long, I still missed Mom.
“Thank you. I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“As you should. Melanie was a special woman and a very talented Marshal.”
She stood and motioned for me to stay where I was, telling me she’d be right back. Instead of going to the kitchen as expected, she moved toward the rear of the house. I waited, wondering what she was up to. This was a change in our usual routine, and it bothered me, especially in light of our conversation.
She returned a few minutes later. Instead of taking a seat, she stood in front of me and reached for my hand. “I want you to wear this, Ripley.” She fastened a silver cuff, much like the one she wore, around my right wrist. “I worked protections into it during its forging and then again when the sigils were engraved. I promise it will serve you well.”
The corners of my mouth lifted. “Thank you, Gemma. I appreciate it.” I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’d need all the protection I could get before this was over. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
She shook her head. “Perhaps after I’ve meditated some more, and you have talked with these strangers you mentioned.”
“Then I shall take my leave.” I carried my teacup and saucer into her kitchen and quickly rinsed them. When I turned from the sink, she handed me a small bag with my favorite cookies and several brownies inside.
“Watch yourself, Ripley.” Her eyes took on the out of focus look I learned long ago to associate with her form of Sight. In that moment, her gift spoke to me, not her consciousness. “The darkness coming will target you not only because of who you are but also because of what you are.”
I swallowed hard, not liking what she said one bit. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”
She shook herself and slid her arm through the crook of my elbow. We paced slowly through the house to the front door. Once standing on the porch, she reached up and cupped my cheek with her right hand. The affection in her eyes surprised me.
“You were wise to visit Razor before coming here. You have nothing to fear from me, but there are dangers on the road.”
“There always are when this close to one of the rifts.” I went on to tell her about the encounter on my way here.
“You were right to leave her alone, Ripley. I will make sure she and her kits move on.” She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “You would be wise to allow Razor to make your protections more permanent.”
That surprised me. I doubted the shaman had said anything to her about my hesitance to allow him to ink me.
“When I know more, I’ll consider it.”
Although her words were enough to make me consider it now.
“I should have more for you when you return, Ripley.”
“And I will hopefully have information for you as well.” I dug my keys out of my pocket. “I’ll call when I’ve had a chance to talk to the others and do a bit more digging.”
She watched as I climbed in the SUV. Instead of going inside, she stood on the porch as I drove off. As I did, I blew out a breath. I hadn’t learned much. Hell, I hadn’t learned anything other than the fact Red was right. Gemma was scared and she very carefully put me in the line of fire, at least between her and the Council. Worse, she hadn’t given me enough information to contact the Council yet.
Now all I needed to do was figure out the best course of action. Safe money lay on going straight back to Razor’s to talk with his cousins. But that seemed too obvious. I wanted to find out more about them first. Then maybe have a private word with Razor to see what he could tell me.
Perhaps it was time to give in and let him finally ink me. If so, we’d do it on my terms, starting with no one but the two of us being around when he did it. If I agreed to having protections permanently inked, I didn’t want folks knowing which ones I opted for or where they were located.
First, however, I needed a word with Red, preferably before I returned to town.
“Yeah?” he drawled when he answered my call a few minutes later.
I’d waited until I was back on the main road and heading toward town.
“She couldn’t tell me much, but she’s seriously spooked, and she basically backed me into a corner. What she Saw is enough like what she reported to the Council before the Upheaval that she needs to let them know. But she wants to buy herself some time to figure out what might be going on. So, she asked you to send me. She figures that covers her, not that she said as much.”
For a moment, silence stretched out between us. I waited, giving him time to consider what I’d said.
“All right. Are you on your way back?”
“I am.”
“Come to the office and we’ll figure out what we should do.” Another pause and I pictured him frowning, running a hand over his jaw as he considered the various options. “We’ll hold off telling the Council for the moment.”
“Understood.”
I didn’t like it but then I also didn’t like the idea of calling in the Council. Once that happened, the members would insist I accept the role as senior Marshal in the region. I’d been putting them off for a year now. In that time, they’d been looking for any reason they could find to force my hand. This fit the bill nicely, at least from their point of view.
Bastards.
“Come straight to the office. We’ll discuss what Gemma told you and figure out our next move.”
“There’d better be coffee when I get there.” And maybe a large whiskey as well. I had a feeling this was going to be a very long night. It also meant I needed to find someone to cover for me at the bar tonight.
Damn it, I really hate Mondays.