Authors: Faith Hunter
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Beast Saw Gorilla on TV
The Peristyle was a fancy neoclassical arena—not a building exactly, because it had
no walls, only a roof with large Greek-style columns. One of City Park’s oldest structures,
it was built in 1907 as a dancing pavilion, and I had seen the place from a distance
when roaming as Beast, but I had never been inside it.
Now, as the limo pulled up, the four concrete lions that guarded the open-air structure
felt like an omen—that I might survive this coming bout—even if they were African
lions and not
Puma concolor
. Real ducks, geese, and swans were nesting on the banks, sleeping, most with heads
under their wings, and as the vamps and I emerged from our vehicles, some of the water
birds stirred, wings shifted uneasily. Wind rustled the leaves overhead. A security
guard bent to the limo’s window and verified who we were before scampering away into
safety. Not that there was any safety here tonight. The Naturaleza were here and they’d
guzzle down the plump guard like a cheap beer if they wanted to.
I wandered to the edge of the bayou and looked out over the water. Beast saw an alligator
resting near shore, nostrils the only part of it that was above the surface.
Small gator. Big birds. Good hunting.
Big Vamp Guy is your prey tonight,
I thought at her.
I will be hungry after shift. I will eat big vampire?
No. But you can have all the Canada geese you can catch
.
Beast hacked with delight.
Good hunt. Hunt and kill Big Prey
.
Eat flying birds.
Sabina called out, “
Gather
.” An icy wind came out of nowhere and blasted through my clothes to chill my skin.
Leaves swirled down in a dense cloud, sounding like the uneasy souls of the recently
dead. The call to
gather
was as old as the Mithrans themselves, and among the most powerful of their obligations
and rituals, and everyone knew that ritual was almost as powerful as magic itself.
At that, a thought occurred to me, and I smiled.
Yes
. I had found my edge—if I could call it that. Edges were for pain and cutting, edges
were blades for battle. What I was planning was more like sleight of hand—the art
of the stage. If I could pull it off.
The vampire priestess’ magic was cold, like the grave, heavy and cloying. It smelled
of old, spoiled blood and despair and ancient pain. I’d felt it before and the weight
of it made de Allyon’s power feel minor, like the sting of static electricity when
measured against being struck by a lightning bolt. Nothing by comparison. I rubbed
my upper arms. I walked from the bayou bank to the covered area, seeing Bruiser and
Rick standing close together talking. Seeing the drivers, all human, standing at the
cars and trucks. The Tequila Boys, looking vigilant.
I found Wrassler’s eyes on me and I lifted a hand, palm up, questioning. He shook
his head. Nothing yet. Katie was still a prisoner; Alex and the Vodka Boys were still
searching. He tossed me my go-bag from the car, and I caught it one handed.
“The contestants will remove their weapons,” Sabina said. It was a command, and I
felt the urge, the
need
, to comply. I’d gone to a lot of trouble to look like this; it was a shame to ruin
it. But I stepped to a table at the far side of the pavilion and unstrapped the harness
for the M4, laying it on the surface. Started to pull guns, ejecting the magazines
and the rounds in the chambers, and laying them beside the shotgun. The long knives
followed, while I thought about the gun in my hair. I could get it out, but I’d rather
no one know it was ever there, so timing was important. When Jude pulled out a knife
with a jewel-encrusted handle, attracting the attention of the vamps, I lifted the
braid and eased the tiny gun out, setting it with the .38 from my boot. The short-bladed
throwing knives followed, then the stakes. My protective collars. My crosses in the
tiny lead-lined pouch that was sewn into my pants. Rather than causing an incident,
I ripped the pouch out. Leo’s designer would be livid, and if I survived, I’d suffer
for this one.
Across the way, the Big Guy was now weaponless—except for the muscles, teeth, talons,
and his skills, which I expected were enough all on their own—and was wearing black
jeans and a black T-shirt, boots, and a happy, fanged grin. I had the feeling that
if he caught me first, he was going to play with me for a while before killing me.
And that play wouldn’t involve kiddie games and coloring books.
I unbuttoned the tight vest, placed it by the guns, and pulled the tee over my head,
the boots off my feet. My skin pebbled in the icy air. I slid a pair of flip-flops
onto my feet, leaving the go-bag on the table. When I was done, I was wearing only
pants, undies, jogging bra, flip-flops, my necklace,
and the contact lenses. The vamps were all looking at me now, taking in the bare skin,
my coppery coloring bleached out by the night and the park lights, my scent whipped
away by the wind.
My edge,
I thought.
Time to see if I can do this
.
I reached up and started to unbraid my hair, moving slowly, letting them look. I took
measured steps, circling the Peristyle with slow precision. When I reached a stone
lion, I let my hands flow across the mane, the stone cool and rough on my fingers.
I bent my body across the lion and scraped with my gold nugget so I could find my
way back to this spot, even if I lost myself in Beast.
I lifted my hands back to my hair, and it danced in the breeze like Medusa’s snakes
as I unbraided it, whirling and whipping in the wind. My black eyes stared the vamps
down, calm and dispassionate. My half-bound hair whipped across the lion, and I could
feel the power of the vamps’ combined gazes, watching me. I had no magic of my own
except to shift form, but if I survived, I wanted these vamps to remember me, maybe
with something like fear. That was a magic all its own.
Sabina said, “Time?”
De Allyon’s heir said, “Ten twenty-five.”
Sabina looked back and forth between the contestants as I worked on my hair and watched
the Big Guy Vamp I was going to have to kill. I didn’t want to. I really had no desire
to kill him. But I would have no choice. Literally, it was him or me. My hair whipped
in the rising breeze, flowing like black snakes in a slow current. Big Guy was watching
me, staring at the hair-handle I was providing him, confident to the point of stupidity,
which I wanted to encourage. I grinned at him and shook out my hair, timing it perfectly.
“Catch me, catch me, if you can,” I sang out, “you big, bumbling buffoon.”
“Begin,” Sabina said.
Before the word was half-formed, Beast slammed her speed into me and I took off, racing
like the anxious wind, into the night. Beast’s sight took over, turning the world
bright and silvery. I was into the shadows before anyone saw me move. I ripped off
the bra, the pants and panties, running between trees, the concrete path bruising
my soles through the flip-flops.
I couldn’t hear the Big Guy behind me. Vamps are silent predators, even at full speed.
I was betting everything on him wanting to play cat and mouse with me, hunt me slowly,
thinking to wear me out physically and then drain me painfully, not attack and kill
fast. I turned sharply left and raced along a rabbit path, moving hard crosswind now,
hoping the cold breeze would carry my scent away from the pursuing vamp.
I reached up and wrapped one fist around the mountain lion tooth.
I’m gonna need a fast shift, Beast.
Will hurt.
Yeah. It will. Do it anyway.
As I ran, I let my mind drop into the gray place of the change, the place where skinwalker
magics rested. The place of the snake that rests at the heart of all beings. I rounded
into another narrow path and dove into the brush, dropped to my belly, and crawled
deep into the scrub.
Now,
I thought.
Beast rushed up at me, fierce and furious, killing teeth bared.
I will be big,
she thought.
No! There’s no stone to draw mass from!
Pain took me, ripping down my spine like dozens of minuscule blades, like scalpels
flaying my flesh from my body.
Stone lions,
she thought back, victory in her tone.
No!
I shouted at her.
They’re not stone! They’re concrete! They may have organic matter in them!
I will be big!
In the distance I heard the sound of exploding concrete and the screams of vampires
as shards of broken lion shattered over them. Then the gray place of the change took
me.
* * *
I lay in the trees and small plants, panting. Painpainpain was in bones and flesh.
Even pelt hurt with pain of change. But I was big. Not as big as I wanted, but as
big as the snake at the heart of the stone tooth would allow. Maybe big enough. Maybe.
I stood and looked back at my body, seeing mass and muscle.
Yessss. Big
. Maybe big as female African lion. Maybe big as rhino or bison. Did not know for
sure.
Was less hungry than usual. Stomach was empty, but did not cramp. From taking mass
from not-stone lion? Jane had not expected that. I huffed in pleasure. Beast was smart
to hide many things from Jane. Jane was like kit, to be protected. Shook head and
felt Jane necklace, tight on big-Beast neck. Was
big!
I pushed Jane clothes into the dark and nudged the contact lenses she had worn. They
all smelled of Jane—skinwalker smell. I listened. In the distance, I heard vampire-prey
stumbling closer, taking narrow path, path too small for his body. Stupid prey, but
big. Had wanted to hunt big prey for a long time. I stretched through spine and chest
and down legs. I liked being big. I trotted into path, looking for place to hide.
To hunt. Ambush hunt. Easy hunt, except for killing big prey. Killing big prey was
hard, dangerous work.
Ear tabs flicking, Beast kept track of stupid big prey, while looking up and up, into
trees. Was big now. Needed bigger branch to ambush from. Saw one. Low enough to ground
to leap into, high enough from ground to drop down from. Lifted snout into air, feeling
wind in pelt, thinking about scent in wind
. Yesss. Good limb for ambush.
Good limb of tree, hanging over narrow path Jane had taken.
I leaped up into tree, claws scratching and digging into bark, and settled on limb
to wait. Flexed claws into bark, pulling, shredding, grooming claw sheathes. Bark
fell onto path. If sun was high, it would be stupid kit mistake to groom claws here,
but moon was two-horned and dying, and man lights were far away. Bark would not be
seen.
Stupid big prey crashed louder, closer, took a breath like dying gorilla. Beast saw
gorilla on TV one time. Would be good big prey to hunt. Jane said no to hunting gorilla.
I hacked. I was hunting big prey now. Big vampire prey. Thought about Jane. Fast change
and mass gain had sent Jane to back of Beast mind, had put her deep asleep.
Beast is alpha. Beast is in control.
Big prey came closer. Closer. Beast opened mouth and pulled in air with soft
screeee
of sound. Prey stopped, had heard. But Beast sucked in air again, over scent sacs
in mouth. Fleshmen behavior, used mostly for scenting mating pheromones, was good
for scenting prey too, scenting to find, scenting to determine sickness or not-sickness.
Big prey was not sick. Was not vampire who had fed upon sick humans like sick vampires
in hot, dry place of Sedona. “I hear you, little girl,” prey called. “If you come
out, I’ll kill you fast.”
Beast could hear lie in the words. Only vampires and humans lied. Pumas would tease,
but did not lie. Beast did not understand lies. Humans were confusing. I hacked. Vampire
prey stepped along path, placing feet carefully now, but was still loud. Stupid hunter,
stupid prey.
“Come on, little girl.”
Beast made puling sound like sick kit, soft and fearful. Then thought about sick fearful
sound. That was lie. Was not sick kit. Was Beast. I hissed. Lies were confusing.
“Where is she, where is she?” prey whispered. Big prey appeared, walking slow along
path. Was carrying knife.
Beast narrowed eyes. Vampire had . . . cheated. Jane would call him cheat. Beast thought
he was worthy prey to hide knife and carry it.
Good hunt
. I gathered paws close underneath belly. Felt muscles tighten. Vision narrowed to
watching prey. Watching. Prey moved closer, step, step, step, beneath limb. Two steps
past. Five steps more.
Beast leaped, dropped, fell, onto prey. Landed. All the weight of big lion on prey’s
back.
Prey stumbled, fell to path, Beast riding his back, claws sinking deep. Bit down on
back of neck. Hard crunch through spine and muscle. Shook prey, growling, hissing.
Heard spine snap. Big vampire prey fell to earth. Fell onto own knife. Big vampire
screamed. Loud vampire screams of dying prey. Hurt ears. Lowered ear tabs to cover
ear holes. Beast shook jaws and head, breaking spine more, crunchcrunchcrunch. Screams
stopped. Vampire lay still, making sounds of dying prey.
Vampire prey was breathing, almost like human, breathing fast in fear. Lungs worked,
but arms and legs were dead. Dead but would heal if Beast did not take his head. Beast
pulled killing teeth from vampire-prey-flesh. Licked jaw. Tasty vampire blood. Lay
on top of prey. Waiting. Smelling blood. Smelling fear. Heard sound from path ahead.
Footsteps.
Beast thought. Waited. Thought more. Footsteps grew closer. I stood to feet and stepped
from fallen prey. Walked around to look into eyes of prey. Saw fear. Fear was good.
But saw cunning also. Footsteps came closer. Saw joy in prey’s eyes. Prey had cheated
and had brought pack to hunt.
Hate pack hunters!
Beast hacked. Prey’s eyes grew large, looking hard but unable to turn head to see
path and footsteps of approaching pack hunter.
Beast stepped into shadows. Crouched and waited.