Feral Magic: An Urban Fantasy Romance-Thriller

  Chapter Seven

  Fear drove through me, sending my heart racing. I bolted upright. Definitely not the others. Curses! Where had Lilly put my trinkets? I hadn't been wearing them, since Mordon had told me that their spells might entangle in my own.

  Then there came the dull snap of a breaking string, and the bells fell to the floor. I listened, still frozen. Something began to crawl up the stairs.

  Energized, I sent out my magic in a panicked search for my trinkets. They were in a wooden box beside the couch. I dove for it, seizing a plain silver ring first. I dropped it, then snatched it again.

  I slid it on my finger. In an instant, my body faded into invisibility. The greatest disadvantage to invisibility was that I couldn't see what I was doing. Grabbing rings out of the box was every bit as difficult as doing it blindfolded.

  Meanwhile, I heard a dry sniffing and the scraping of claws as something climbed the stairs. I shivered and tried to focus.

  My next thought was to both get someplace safe and a place where I could watch. Whatever had—or hadn't, as the case may be—made it through the wards, I wanted to see what it was before doing anything rash. Running away just might be a better solution, but I wanted to see whatever it was.

  Quietly as I could, I climbed onto the kitchen counter and pulled my legs up. Dignified? Not by a long shot. Cowardly? Perhaps. But it was the best vantage point. My other option was to hide in my room, but even terrified, I was fascinated and curious.

  I tried to ignore the grunts and scraping of claws as the thing scaled the steps. It smelled like a decomposing leaf pile long before I caught sight of the thing.

  Teeth and dried skin was what I saw first of the face. I fought the urge to gasp, and made myself think. It looked like it was a horse skull, even if it had fangs and tusks like a boar. It moved as a human would on all fours, but it had claws in place of fingernails.

  It swung its head one way then the other, sniffing at the air through holes where there had once been cartilage. Horror warred with wonder. What was this thing? Had I ever read about anything quite like it before? Why had it made it through the wards?

  I considered stopping the airflow down its throat, but its sides didn't move. I held my magic just before the creature, and it swung one way then the other, trying to follow the trail. Frowning, I realized that the thing didn't breathe. It wasn't alive.

  How was I to kill something that wasn't even alive? I considered the broom handle resting against the end of the cabinets. True, beating at it with a stick might be successful in the end, but my stomach went sour when I thought of the mess it would make. We would never get the smell out.

  I could almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Me, perched on the kitchen counter, staring at an undead thing, thinking about poking it with a stick and worried about making a bit of a mess. For a second, I wondered if this was another test constructed by my friends.

  My strength was fading with every second, even with the boost from terror. I had one shot at a spell. I had to make it count. But what was I to do? Air wouldn't make this thing stop. I couldn't call up a flame, no matter how small. Anything more than the few spells we had already done were beyond me.

  I watched as the creature angled its head in my direction and advanced, its claws scraping on the tile floor. My heart stuck in my throat. I ran through a short list of options: my few spells, the invisibility ring, the opal ring which made an illusion, and the earring which sent sparks everywhere.

  Then the thing's back arched, and it gathered itself up on its back feet, wobbling slightly like a bear. Black ooze drained from gashes across its abdomen.

  I didn't dare to breathe.

  I tossed the earring. It bounced off the skull, hit an arm, and slipped through a slash in the hide. The creature's head swung in my direction and it made a rattling noise in the back of its throat.

  Sparks flew from the gaps in its gut, and the creature tried to look down. It swayed, beating at its stomach with claws, and gave another growl.

  I whispered the command for water to boil. The thing jerked towards me and it ran, half-falling, for the counter.

  Terror held my body captive. I forced a jerk of muscles. I dove towards the charging thing, ducking beneath its arms and rolling over the floor.

  There came a sickening wet slap as the creature hit the counter. It whimpered like a kicked dog. The sound tore at me, and I wondered if the thing even wanted to be here.

  Pity gone as quick as it had come, I seized hold of a stockpot we had used to boil water. Behind me was a sucking noise like mud on shoes. The thing was pushing itself upright.

  I hurled the simmering water, pot and all.

  Water gushed everywhere, soaking bread on the counter, racing down the cabinet doors, pooling around the black sludge of decay from the creature. But the thing did not scald. The water didn't even soak in, just rolled straight off the hide.

  The pot had done more damage. Two teeth were cracked in half, and one wriggled by a thread. Its chest was dimpled in where steel had broken bone. Slashes in the abdomen gaped open.

  It took a step, slipped and fell to its knees. One tooth fell out. A hand went to its abdomen. It stared at the wound.

  I climbed up on the counter again. Black spots danced across my vision and expanded. The boiling spell was draining me of whatever strength was left in my body.

  A strangled noise escaped the creature as it pulled itself across the floor. A shaking claw reached up for me, caught nothing, scraped the cabinet door on the way down, furls of paint clinging to its claw.

  The entire floor was boiling now; the loudest bubbles came from the black mire in the thing's gut.

  I scooted against the back splash so I wouldn't fall. My skin was becoming opaque as I lost consciousness.