Bewitched, Blooded and Bewildered (28 page)

“No. I saw terrible things.”

“Demon apocalypse?” I guessed.

Anne flinched and looked at me in surprise. “How did you know?”

“We’ve seen it too. Thanks to the faerie council,” Lex explained.

“So now we know the hunters are going after the shapeshifters. Thank you for helping,” I said to Anne. Faust helped her to her feet, and she wobbled unsteadily as though she’d had too much to drink. Her expression was pained, and I winced, feeling guilty.

“I want to help. It’s just…difficult.” Anne smiled sheepishly.

“It’s all right. We understand. Which is why we’re not going to ask again unless it’s absolutely necessary.” I glared at Harrison, and he sighed. I wasn’t letting him add a shiny, new toy to his minion collection, and it was giving him the temper-tantrum face. He’d get over it.

“If you’re ready, I will return you to your shop,” Faust said.

“Yes, please. Oh, and it’s a boy,” Anne said.

I blinked. “Pardon?”

“Your baby. It’s a boy.”

“How…?” I glanced down at my stomach. “It’s probably the size of a sea monkey, how can you tell?” She smiled, looking all-knowing and mysterious, and I held up my hands. “Wait, wait! I don’t want you to suffer more, but I need to know that if you saw something, that it’s a good something. It’s been one fight after another around here and we’re a little concerned.”

“It’s a good something,” she confirmed, “but you need to stop picking fights.”

“I don’t
pick
the fights,” I protested.

Anne smiled again, took Faust’s hand and vanished. I glanced at Lex, who was grinning widely, and I shook my head. A bouncing baby guardian
boy
—that was even scarier than a demon apocalypse.

“It’s the jamboree,” Zach said.

“The what?” I asked.

“The hunters’ target is a canine shifter gathering, they call it a jamboree. It’s outside of Rockford this year. It’s the only sizable gathering of shifters on Samhain in the area.”

A werewolf jamboree? Were they shapeshifting boy scouts? What the fuck? “How many shifters are we talking?”

“A hundred or so. Maybe more,” he replied.

A hundred or so shifters. That meant a hundred or so hunters. Lex cursed, and then he rubbed at the stubble along his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and it looked rather sexy. “We’re going to need reinforcements to handle the kind of numbers the hunters are goin’ to throw at them. This’d be a good chance to show off our new magician cooperation.”

“I can guarantee involvement of the necromancers and sorcerers,” Zach said. “I’m sure Miss O’Driscoll and Mr. Galestrom can guarantee the involvement of other breeds of shapeshifters.”

“We can pull some Titania and Oberon strings for faerie firepower,” I added. “If you have a spare tank or assault helicopter lying around, this would be a good time to use it.”

Zach snorted. “Unfortunately no, I don’t.”

“Why not? There’s no engineering genius tucked away in the research and development department of your evil corporation?” I asked.

“Quality genius minions are so difficult to find,” he replied dryly. “I’m sure that the right application of magic will be more effective than a tank.”

I hoped he was right. This would be the biggest straight-versus-magician fight since…well, probably since the straights made the elves extinct. That didn’t bode well for us. Then again, the elves hadn’t had me, Lex and Harrison the wonder vamp on their side.

Chapter Seventeen

For the first time Lex and Zach were in complete agreement on something—neither of them wanted me to participate in the big fight. I didn’t want to be in the line of fire either, but as Titania I needed to be there because we’d called in faerie aid. The faeries were almost giddy about the idea, or at least my Silverleaf cousins were. Faeries enjoyed a good battle, and it’d been a long time since they were allowed to participate in one in our world. As Titania and Oberon, Lex and I needed to be there—together—to make sure that the faeries didn’t get too out of control. So I agreed to wear a bulletproof vest, stay out of sight and away from the front lines, and allow Portia to put me in a tree. I wish I could say that was a euphemism for something, but no. My cousin picked me up and flew me up into the branches of an oak tree and left me there. Alone. It was not my finest hour.

“Well this fucking sucks,” I muttered, rubbing my hands together for warmth.

Rockford was pretty much the middle of nowhere to begin with, a long-ass drive away from the city. The area was scenic if you’re into nature, which I’m not, but the shifters loved it. Lots of trees to pee on, I supposed. We were surrounded by old, towering, gnarled trees, and the clearing was dimly lit by the orange glow of bonfires. The smoke wafted up to my perch, and the scent was comforting, eliciting faded memories of girl-scout camp and s’mores. Of course, the place was also filled with the dog-hair-scented magic of canine shifters, but thanks to my time with Bubba and Cesár, dog hair was something I was growing familiar with, and it was mixed with the obligatory cinnamony smell of all the invisible faeries waiting to leap out of hiding.

The shifters knew that trouble was coming, but they partied anyway. Drinking, music, terrible dancing, and mouth-watering barbeque cooking—you’d think the least they could do was send someone up with a plate for me. I had a feeling this was pretty tame for a shapeshifter party, but they couldn’t have a giant furry orgy while waiting for hunters to pop out of the woods. Well, they could, but they might get their naughty bits shot off, and even shapeshifters aren’t crazy enough to risk that.

A new smell nosed its way past the smoke and dog hair, and my heart raced as I recognized the awful sulfur stench of demonic taint.

“Portia,” I whispered.

“What?”

I frowned—I couldn’t see her, but she sounded right next to me. “The demons are here,” I said.

“Are you sure? We haven’t spotted any.”

The smell was unmistakable, and it made my eyes water. “Yes, I’m sure. Go sound the alarm.”

“Okay.”

I assumed she disappeared, and I shivered as I scanned the shadows for signs of movement. There’s a reason that Halloween’s so spooky, that it’s a holiday rife with ghosts, witches, demons and other things that go bump in the night. The barriers between the worlds are thinner on Samhain for some strange, cosmic reason, and things from other worlds have an easier time slipping through. The demons were probably counting on that.

A series of sharp pops erupted so fast that at first I thought they had to be fireworks, but this wasn’t the Fourth of July, and all hell broke loose in the clearing. My hands clenched into fists—I couldn’t do a damn thing stuck in this damn tree. They should’ve given me a sniper rifle or something, but as Lex pointed out, I didn’t know how to shoot a gun, and I was just as likely to hit one of our guys. I had my rapier and my dagger, but they weren’t useful from this position.

Hunters and demons entered the clearing from the south and west in a wave of shadowy figures. Our extra forces popped out of hiding a few moments later as their faerie-fueled cloaking spells lifted. The number of magicians in the clearing tripled, and normally I’d think our numbers would make this a piece of cake, if not for the alarming amount of demons mixed in with the straights.

The
whirr
of helicopters buzzed overhead, and I cursed. Seriously? Helicopters? There were two of them, and they took up positions over opposite ends of the clearing. Men with rifles stood just inside the open doors, shooting into the crowd—I really hoped those were darts and not bullets. We didn’t know if the hunters were planning on snatching and grabbing the shapeshifters, but considering the manpower it’d take to haul off this many people, it was more likely they were here to kill them all.

Something punched me in the chest and I rocked back, scrabbling to keep hold of my perch. The breath whooshed from my lungs, and then I toppled over backward. I whacked my head on a branch on the way down, but before I hit the ground Faust caught me.

“I warned them that your position was a bad idea,” he said.

“You have wings?” It was rare to see a male faerie with wings. Tybalt never wore them, claiming they got in the way during a fight, but I often wondered if males found wings too feminine. Faust had sprouted big, black-feathered wings like a giant raven. Rather cool, and useful for saving me from breaking my neck.

“On occasion,” he replied as he set me down. “These are very stylish. Are you injured?”

“Whacked my head. Something hit me in the chest.” I patted the front of my coat and found a hole in it where the ache was centered. “Holy shit, I think I got shot.”

“Make sure you thank Zachary for the loan of his vest.” Something zinged past us and he pulled me out of the way. Faust flinched and grimaced. “Perhaps I should have borrowed one myself.”

“Are you okay?”

“A few bullets won’t kill me. I hate guns. They’re so impersonal.”

“Agreed.”

Two more bullets whipped by and hit the tree next to us. How the hell were we supposed to fight snipers in helicopters? Hurl harsh language at them? We had some sorcerers, somewhere, surely they could whip up some fireballs, right? Maybe not…we were prepared for ground troops, but not an aerial assault. We needed reinforcements.

“Portia,” I shouted.

“Am I not enough bodyguard for you?” Faust asked, sounding hurt.

“You’re my new hero. I need her to get something. Portia!”

Portia appeared next to me, and I gasped at the sight of her white clothing covered in blood and gore. “What? I’m busy, Kitty.”

“Busy doing what, your Sweeney Todd impression? What the hell happened to you?” I asked.

“I’m busy. What do you need?”

I needed to not have that image burned into my retinas, but I remembered the reason I’d called her in the first place. “Call some dragons. Pick your favorite two. Tell them the Titania says they’re allowed to do whatever they want for the next hour as long as it involves fighting the helicopters and the hunters. The ones right here,” I clarified. I didn’t want the dragons to open up a can of scaly whupass on some hunters in California.

“You got it,” she said, and then vanished.

“Dragons? Are you sure that’s wise?” Faust asked.

“No idea, but it’s air support,” I replied. I glanced back at the fight and saw a trio of shadows lurching in our direction. “Look out!”

“Run,” Faust ordered. “Go to your Oberon.”

He shoved me out of the way as he attacked the demons. A flaming sword appeared in his hand, and for a moment he looked more like an avenging angel than an evil faerie. Yeah, Faust could take care of himself, so I took his advice and went in search of Lex.

I put up my shields, drew my sword and charged into the battle. Lex and the guardian posse had been easy to spot from my treetop perch, thanks to their blinding weapons, so I knew the general direction to head in. This was chaos—blood, bullets, fur, fangs and claws everywhere. My shields bowled combatants out of my way as I stumbled through the melee. It was difficult to see, but I managed to spot a splash of pink. Marie had fallen, and a figure crouched over her. I charged forward, ready to skewer the bastard who’d hurt her, but I pulled up short as I recognized the third chronicler from our mass magician meeting.

“Dr. Dannaher?” I asked.

“I can’t stabilize her. If I had my bag…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“I got her. I’m Cat, by the way.” I knelt beside Marie and tugged my gloves off. “Can you use a sword?”

He looked up, blinking gray eyes at me. “Yes, of course.”

“Then you cover us and I’ll heal her.”

I handed him my sword and turned my attention to healing Marie. The good doctor stood over us, looking threatening, but I was dubious about how effective a chronicler would be in a fight. He might be a vampire, but he was a vampire librarian, and librarians weren’t known for their combat skills.

Marie had been shot in the chest, and she was breathing but unconscious. It was eerily similar to Lex’s wounds, but that meant I was confident that I could heal it. Just big metal splinters, and my magical batteries were doing just fine today. Unfortunately my shields wouldn’t envelop her like they would her big brother, so I had to drop them and hope I didn’t get shot in the head in the meantime.

Four bullets. Damn. My hands only shook a little as I tugged them out one by one and put them in my coat pocket. At this rate I could start a line of jewelry made out of bullets with the Duquesne name on them. Marie was tough, and a wave of relief filled me when her magic kicked in alongside mine to heal her wounds. A roar shook the clearing, scaring the living daylights out of me. Glancing up, I spotted the enormous scaly figure of a dragon soaring above us toward a helicopter.

“Get down,” I warned Dr. Dannaher.

He hit the deck as the dragon spewed a stream of fire at the helicopter, and it exploded. I threw myself over Marie and conjured a shield of ice over the three of us—Go-Go-Gadget faerie magic. The ground shook as the wreckage crashed, and I winced. I really hoped it landed on the bad guys…

When the worst of it was over, I looked up at my ice shield and spotted a piece of propeller blade stuck in it. A hysterical laugh bubbled up out of my chest—Lord and Lady, that thing would’ve impaled me and Marie.