Michele Hauf - The Witch's Quest

Valor turned and gaped at him.

He smiled at her and shrugged. “Some of my talents have less finesse than others.”

“So it would seem.” She walked in after him. “Nothing like making an entrance. I like it.”

The shed was dark, but pale moonlight strained through a dirty glass window panel set into the roof. The paned glass stretched eight feet square. It was littered with fallen leaves, yet the center of the room was lit enough to make out the dirt floor and assorted items sitting about. A mounted full-bodied buck greeted them with eerie glass eyes, its ten-point rack gleaming like ivory.

“Yikes.” Valor walked up to the taxidermied creature. It stood as high as she. She studied it from head to tail, then walked back up to look into its eyes. She stroked its nose, pausing with her palm flat on its fur. Bowing her head, she said, “I’m so sorry for you.”

Her empathy hit Kelyn right in the heart. Any chick who cared for nature was all right by him. “You see? The guy is an asshole.”

“Duly noted. This poor creature didn’t deserve such an end. I hate trophy hunters. So let’s take a look around. I’ll look over here and you—” He’d already begun to explore the north wall. “Yep, you know what you’re doing. So, are you prepared to leave the country?”

“What?” Kelyn brushed his fingertips over an assortment of knives and tools he assumed were taxidermy items. None were clean, which made him wonder about the man’s methods. Trophies would be created and tended with care and clean instruments. Magical items, on the other hand, wouldn’t require such surgical cleanliness. He called over his shoulder, “Why leave the country?”

“The next item on the list is in Western Australia. Lake Hillier. The pink lake.”

“Pink?”

“Yeah, I think it’s algae or something that colors it literally a bubble gum pink. We need water from that lake specifically.”

“Right, the unruly lake. What is an unruly lake anyway?”

“Apparently, a pink one.”

“Australia is a long flight.”

“That it is. And...spendy.”

He caught her anxious tone. “You mean you’re not going to treat me to an adventure across the globe?”

“I can pay for my own ticket. I’m just hoping you’ll pay for yours?”

“I can cover us both,” he offered.

“No, I can take care of myself.”

“Valor. Send me the flight details and an online link and I’ll take care of it. Okay?”

She nodded and picked up an old, rusted spring-loaded trap that creaked as she turned it about. “This looks dangerous and it smells.”

“Probably blood on it from whatever the man last trapped.”

She dropped it with a groan.

Kelyn’s hand landed on a dusty glass quart jar without a cover. He could feel the vibrations wavering out from within and he bowed his head over it, placing both hands on the glass. Thankful that his senses were not currently superreceptive, he could only imagine the pain he’d sense if they had been at normal capacity.

“What is it?” Valor walked up behind him and gasped at the sight of what he held. “That’s a lot of claws. And big. Sure they’re not bear claws?”

“No,” Kelyn said with a swallow. “These are werewolf.” It pained him to think that his brothers had gone up against Denton. Yet they had survived. Thank the gods for that. “Take one,” he said quickly.

Valor reached in and pulled out a black claw that was as thick as her finger and twice as long. Then she took another. “Two to be safe.” And another. “And three—”

“No.” He took one of the claws and tossed it back in the jar, wincing at the horrible vibrations of pain he felt with the quick connection. “We won’t be greedy. Two is more than enough.”

“Fine.” She shoved the claws in her jacket pocket. “Let’s you, me and Doogie Howser get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Doogie Howser?”

She shrugged. “TV doctors. I got a thing for them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. Let’s skedaddle.”

They strode toward the open door. When they were but four feet away, the door suddenly slammed shut in a cloud of dust. And the door edges began to glow orange.

* * *

“The peller has an inner protection spell activated,” Valor said.

She spread her hands out before her, testing the vibrations that wavered out from the door. Turning and clasping the moonstone that hung around her neck, she sensed the spell stretching along the walls and the ceiling, enclosing them completely. She didn’t judge it to be anything particularly dark, more just menacing.

Kelyn spread out his hands as if to read his surroundings as she had done. She wasn’t sure how much faery magic he still possessed, if any. The sigils were missing from his wrists and in their place, silvery scars served as a cruel reminder. That had to suck.

“You got some magic to get us out of here?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“I do love a decisive woman.”

“Aw, you love me?” Valor flicked him a flirty wink over her shoulder. “Find me something silver, will you?”

“Okay. There’s gotta be silver in a werewolf hunter’s cabin.” Kelyn looked around.

The shuffling Valor suddenly heard, which should have been Kelyn pushing things around on the shelves, sounded—when she thought about it—more like...hooves.

She spun around to face the stuffed deer. Which was no longer inanimate. Its eyes glowed white and its obsidian hoof pawed the dirt floor.

“Kelyn!”

“Found something that looks like a silver arrowhead. Though it’s corroded.” He turned and saw the same thing she did. “No kidding?”

“Toss me the arrow. Or better yet. Can you—”

“Got it!” He lunged for the buck as the beast charged Valor. The faery leaped and landed on the deer’s back, one arm wrapping about its wide, strong neck.

Valor dropped and rolled across the dirt floor, out of the animal’s charging path. It didn’t slow, bowing its head and aiming its magnificent rack at the closed door. Kelyn stabbed at the beast, landing the arrowhead in its chest as its antlers collided with the door. The protection spell fizzled, bursting out brilliant orange flames from around the door. The steel door blew off the shed, and the deer raced through with Kelyn riding its back.

“Can’t say I’ve seen anything like that before,” Valor muttered as she stood and brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Cool.”

She wandered through the door to find Kelyn standing before a stuffed deer. He tugged the arrowhead out of its chest. The magic that had reanimated the deer had ceased the moment it left the shed.

Valor marched over and smoothed a hand over the stuffed animal’s nose. “No one will believe this.”

“Welcome to my world.” Kelyn tossed the arrowhead in the air and caught it smartly. “Let’s get out of here. Can you fit the door back into the frame?”

“Seriously? After the mess we made in there, you think replacing the door...?”

He did have a way of challenging her right in the witchcraft with his castigating, yet also kinda sexy furrowed brow.

Summoning her air magic, Valor whispered a rising spell and the door lifted and slammed back into the frame. Not at all the gentle fit-back-into-the-door-frame action she had been going for, but... “It’ll do. What are we going to do about that thing?”

He smoothed a palm over the deer’s back. “I like to think Marx will have a hell of a time figuring this one out when he returns.”

“I like your thinking.”

They wandered back to the car at the end of the drive, and after getting in the car Valor tugged out her cell phone. She perused the Delta flight schedule while Kelyn drove out and headed back to Tangle Lake. He was using the GPS on his phone and she knew it drove him buggy. Faeries were natural navigators. Poor guy. But, much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t bring it up or apologize.