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Chapter 8

Hi!

Guys, I'm staggered by the amount of good comments I'm getting. A big thank you to all of you who comment, and to all of you that silently read and stay with this story! This time you're getting a long one. I hope you like it :-)

Lara

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Chapter 8

The air was alive with musk and sweat, the undeniable scent the shape shifters emanated like a seductive narcotic. The darkness around us rippled and moved like leaves rustling in a cold gust of wind.

A pair of golden, wolf-like eyes glinting. The shape shifter closest to us moved. A giant of muscles and meat. Shadows masked the greater part of his face, golden eyes watching us with the kind of stillness predators have before they pounce on their helpless, unsuspecting prey. I peered into the darkness, catching a glimpse of the rings and studs on the shoulders of his leather jacket. They made tinkling noises with each step he took. Was it a voluntary, deliberate measure? One of the many tactics the shape shifters used to mess with their prey's mind, push them over the edge and right into panic mode? Or just part of their get-up, a fashion statement that demarcated who they were? No matter which of the two it was, the sound made me want to turn around and run.

I felt it. My mother's pendant warmed against my skin, a second heartbeat to my own that urged me to do ... something. Only what?

"What do you want?" Andy said in a low voice.

"I think you got something that belongs to us," the shape shifter's voice was throaty, came out with the guttural sound of something more animal than human.

I froze. They came for the flash drive.

"You can hand it over, or ..." Darkness parted and I saw the corners of stud jacket's mouth lift into a smile that was all teeth, canine, and steel. "... we can make you."

My mouth went dry, my tongue a desiccated piece of flesh. Three against two. The odds were against us.

The question was: were they going to turn furry on us or not? I tensed, a hundred and one thoughts racing through my brain – and none of them worth a damn.

A coil of magic twisted and flared up deep inside of me, creeping to the end of my fingertips without me consciously thinking about it.

"Think again, wolf-boy. We're witches. You can try," Andy said, flexing his fingers.

I saw the look on Andy's face and froze. I'd seen this kind of expression on him before. It was the night he burned a vampire to death. He was going to fight them, no matter the odds, and he'd enjoy the hell out of it.

The anticipation ebbed and exploded, morphed into something entirely else in one flash. Andy stepped forward and a hedgerow of fire erupted between us, racing from one end of the street to the other.

I stumbled back, away from the heat, and stared at Andy's strained set of shoulders in disbelief, peering through the walls of fire licking away at the air. How the hell did he do that? He just conjured a field of fire without even raising a hand, less a finger?

I narrowed my eyes. Could he command the fire by thought alone? It took a damned high degree of control and skill to do that. Did Andy have that kind of control? How could I have missed it?

Fire was the most destructive of the four elements, which was why fire witches were hot commodities in the Force. I knew that Andy was one of the best among the Force members. I'd simply never been on the receiving end of his magical punches.

I stared at the foremost edge of the flame between us. The heat rippled and shivered, tearing through cold night air – a deadly cocktail of acid smog come to life. The line of fire burned its way across the street, a border-line of a sort. There was no way anyone could –

I blinked. I knew what he was trying to do. He set up a wall between us. He'd just cut me off from both him and the shape shifters! What the hell was he doing?

"Andy, what the hell are you doing?" I said.

Andy turned his head, meeting my eyes for the barest of seconds. "Go. Get out of here."

"Trying to play the hero?" One of the shape shifters said, laughing – a deep rumble that sounded like the beginnings of thunder. It mixed with the crackling sound of fire ripping away oxygen and particles between them. "A word of advice, they're never worth it, boy."

"Last chance. Leave us alone. Or I'll make you," Andy said.

I stared at his shoulder blades. I'd heard him use that voice before. There wasn't an ounce of fear in there. I realized one thing, then and there. This wasn't about me, or even the shape shifters. This was who Andy really was and wanted to be.

Stud jacket smiled, and attacked.

It was one of those too-fast-to-see motions. Not as fast as a vamp, but faster than anything strictly human. Andy stepped back, arm raised in front of him. Fire erupted from his palm – a ball of burning power that careened into the shape shifter. At least that's what I thought at first. Turned out that stud jacket was even faster than I thought because next time I looked through the wall of fire in front of me, I saw him standing across from Andy, staring at his opponent with a feral light in his eyes. The other two shape shifters stirred, ready to enter the fight.

Crap.

Andy had to keep them out of his physical range. When it came to hand-to-hand combat Andy didn't have a chance – not if his opponents were shape shifters.

"I know you have it. Now, be a good boy and give it to us," stud jacket said slowly.

"Come and get it," Andy said, smiling.

Instants, seconds – too many things happening at once. The shape shifters slipped into action, racing forward. Andy raised his hand, palm opening as if it was a life rod, and went down on his knee in a motion that was fast – even for a human. He slammed his palm into the asphalt below him.

Fire hissed like a whispered curse come to life. Magic flared and rose around us like an electric current, power recoiling and leashing out. The fire roared, parted ways and shot out into an explosion of fireballs. The shape shifters veered to the right and lift, trying to avoid the vertical hailstorm. My eyes widened. The fireballs stopped in midair and went back like a burning boomerang in slow motion. The shape shifters went down, caught and entrapped by a ring of fire.

I exhaled. Too soon.

A guttural sound and a blur of motion. I barely caught a glimpse of him before it happened. Something or someone slammed into Andy.

Crap. There was a fourth shape shifter.

They went skidding on the asphalt, grappling. The shape shifter raised his fist and slammed it into Andy's gut and he cried out, slumping in on himself.

"Andy!" I stepped forward, hands cramping into fists.

A heady mix of anger and fear for Andy twisted deep inside of me. Spurred by the familiar taste of Andy's magic, my own flared to life. I focused on the disturbed particles dancing in the air, took a hold of the power. Single parts joined invisible hands and flashed in front of me until they formed one entity. I rid the air of oxygen and life, sending the power into the wall of fire in front of me. The wall of fire opened up, flames dying and suffocating in my magic. I tore through the opening in the wall, hitting warm air.

They were rolling on the floor, a tangled mess of limbs and flying fists. No way I could knock the shape shifter off him without hurting Andy, but I'd be damned if I remained standing there like the proverbial damsel in distress.

Movement, caught in the corner of my eye. Stud jacket was coming for me. The thought manifested – too late.

Pain blasted through my shoulder blades and back, my head hitting the pavement like a stone ball bouncing back on steel, before the information even settled fully. I opened my eyes. The world was spinning, my stomach queasy with the kind of dizziness that makes you want to throw up.

I was staring at a pair of glowing green eyes and teeth that were too sharp to be fully human.

I kicked and thrashed as I felt his fingers dig into my jacket, believed I could feel claws dig into the skin on my shoulders. It was like fighting a machine. The shape shifter was bent over me, hands roaming through the pockets of my jacket.

Panic tried to choke the parts of my brain that could still think straight. I fisted my hands and fought. I hit him in the jaw, only to see the corners of his mouth lift. His hands patted down my jeans and slipped into the pockets with ease.

I felt like a flailing fish on the ground, helpless – ready and there for the taking. A victim.

Anger flooded my system. I was never going to be that. Never again.

I went deep inside of myself, opening my senses to the power around me, and grabbed a hold of whatever I could get metaphorical hands on. The air around me was alive and wild, stirred by the commotion around us. But I sensed something else – magic that was familiar and welcome. Something snapped in my core. Layers peeled away, opening a pathway to a part of myself that reveled in darkness and power. No price was too high for survival. No morals or boundaries.

Power crashed into me.

The fire danced along the edge of my fingers, pooled and centered right into my palms. I raised them, slamming my palms into the shape shifter's chest. I heard the agonized snarl. The smell of burned hair and skin entered my nostrils and I smiled, securing my hold on the magic.

The weight on my upper body was gone from one moment to the next. Barked commands and the faint staccato of retreating footsteps. I righted myself and got on my feet, scanning the night around me. My vision was tinged in red, the heat in my fingertips cooling.

The street was empty, apart from the male witch lying on the ground. I felt something push against my determination to ignore him.

Andy.

I pushed it away, holding onto the powerful hum of magic in my veins. My eyes moved over his shape, dismissing him. Still breathing. He wasn't my first and foremost concern. The shape shifters were. They were the target, and they were escaping.

I closed my eyes and second sight bloomed and blossomed all around me like the blue print of a city map. The aura of the witch burned with a strong red color, powerful. Then something else caught my attention. It was peripheral, almost too insignificant to be noticed, and yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it was essential. Above us, on top of one of the buildings I saw a void of blackness.

For a long moment I stared at it before I dismissed it as well, stretched and widened my vision. Grayness expanded and grew. I saw them at the mouth of the alley, melting into the crowd of humans and half-witches beyond. Shape shifters.

I straightened. I was going to –

"Anna?"

I frowned at hearing his voice. Something about its tone and structure unsettled me. The power slipped through my fingers like sand sifting through a wide-meshed fishnet. Andy. Yes, Andy, who-

"Anna, are you ok?"

I blinked. Andy was standing in front of me. His dark brown eyes were watching me warily, the lines of his jaw set in stone.

I felt sick and, just like my legs, my hands were shaking. A thin line of sweat appeared at the back of my neck and shimmied down my spine at the realization: It had happened again. I'd used another element. And I enjoyed it. No, in fact, it was almost like I wasn't myself. Like my personality had been shoved aside and to the back of my mind, and I couldn't see things that actually mattered.

"I'm okay." My voice sounded alien and muffled. I couldn't seem to sort out the tangle of thoughts in my head. I looked up at him, saw concern and doubt in his eyes, and I couldn't stand it. Not now. Not here.

Not again.

I licked my lips. "What happened? Are you really okay?"

"Just a few bruises," he said. "And hell if I know what happened. One moment I'm grappling with them, the next one they're gone. Guess they got what they wanted."

I jerked, eyes wide open. "The flash drive?"

"The shape shifter got his hands on it while we were fighting, which basically means we've got to start from scratch." He shook his head, cursing softly.

"Not if someone sent the information to her personal E-mail account before taking the flash drive from the half witches," I said matter-of-factly.

My memory flashed back to when we were in the Red Dragon. Me sitting in front of the lap top, checking the information on the device. I took my time, stalling deliberately. While Andy was attempting to squeeze the half-witches for more information, I e-mailed most of what was on the drive to me.

A wicked smile crept into his face. "You sent it to your E-mail account?"

"Just a precaution." I shrugged. "What do you think they wanted with it?"

He stared at me and something in his eyes deepened. There was a certain eagerness in there, as if things had gotten just more interesting. As if them taking the flash drive hadn't complicated the hell out of our investigations.

"Maybe they already had a deal with the half-witches and they took it for them," he said. "Or they overheard our conversation and decided it was worth taking it – who knows, maybe they were after the information themselves?"

I contemplated that. Was that what they'd been negotiating over? Information on Chris' contacts? Had the half-witches refused to give it so far – made it a deal breaker?

Then a thought hit me. There was another explanation.

"What if it had nothing to do with their negotiating? What if the shape shifters wanted the information because it could compromise them?"

Andy stared at me for a long moment. "You think the shape shifters were working for the Raven?"

I shrugged. As things were, most shape shifters working for the Circle were doing security. It was possible. Then again, the Fade pack was known for being anti-anything-that-wasn't-furry, and that included the Circle. I didn't even know if there were Fade pack members working for the Circle.

"Only one way to find out," I muttered.

"Come on then, let's go," he said, pointing at the mouth of the alley.

I nodded and started following him. Then I remembered something else. I stopped and turned. I followed the line of fire-escapes along the walls of the buildings and looked up. The air was empty. A quick slip into second sight confirmed it. Somewhere on one of the rooftops I'd glimpsed a lonely aura before. Black.

A shadow of a shiver worked its way up and down my spine. What the hell was a vampire doing up there all by himself?

There were only two logical answers I could come up with, and I liked neither. A) Alexander was keeping major tabs on me and we didn't manage to shake off whatever spies he'd sent my way. B) It was someone else.

If it was the former, Alexander would know that I knew more about the half-witches than I had and would have let on. If it was the latter, we had another undead player on the field, and I had no idea who that could be.

My next meeting with Alexander was scheduled for Saturday. Two days to figure out what to tell him and what to do with the shitloads of information I had.

Wasn't life great?

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Tags: #vampire