Black Moon Sing (The Turquoise Path Book 1) (13 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

W
ith an unconscious surge of furious energy, Ellery gathered herself, ready to spring out from behind the boulder and attack. The scrap of her mind that still remained rational howled at her to stop, to slow down, to think it through. To attack was foolish—but Dusty was growling ferociously inside her. She felt ready—
more
than ready—to abandon all conscious thought and give herself over to pure, animal instinct.

Hosteen’s grip on her arm tightened. She pulled against him, but he was stronger by far.

“Stay here,” he said quietly. “If anybody’s going to attack this guy, I am. I’ve got the gun.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ellery muttered. “Vampire.”

“You said Paras can be killed like anybody else.”

“Changers,” Ellery said shortly. “Traders.  I don’t know how to kill a vampire. I don’t know if you can kill a vampire at all.”

But she was ready to find out. Dusty’s growls grew to snarls, and Ellery had to concentrate to remain silent, to keep from snarling herself.

The summoned traders swayed in their loose circle, their faces stricken and sickly. The vampire straightened, gazing around his ring of captives with an air of gloating so palpable Ellery could feel his triumph crawling along her skin. Then, with a serene smile, he bent again and began gathering the tokens into his hands.

The moment the tokens made contact with his skin, the animal spirits cried out. Ellery gasped and shuddered as their screams of terror—even pain—ripped through her. She choked back her own cry and fell against the boulder, wrestling with her shock and fear.

Hosteen bent over her. “Ellery! What’s going on? Talk to me.”

But it was impossible to speak. The panic of the spirit animals washed through her like an icy river; she felt certain she would drown in that terrible current.

Fighting to regain control, Ellery sucked in a deep breath of cool night air. But that breath served only to fuel her scream. The wild, panicked cry ripped out of her, going on and on until her throat was raw and her own ears hurt. Hosteen clutched her, trying to silence her, but it was no use.

One by one, the other traders joined her as they fell out of the vampire’s enchantment. Aware now of what had happened to them, some of them dropped to their knees in the dust, clutching their heads against the pain that wracked them. Others clawed at the air or rolled on the ground in agony as their animal spirits were ripped away by the vampire.

Ellery struggled to her feet and pushed herself out of Hosteen’s arms. With barely a thought, with hardly any awareness of what she was doing, she reached through the coyote-tooth necklace and shifted into Dusty’s body.

With the coyote’s ears, the sound of the screams was even sharper and more terrifying than before. But Ellery ignored the clamor and charged across the mesa toward the vampire, running faster than any mortal coyote could move. She bared her fangs to the starlight, ready to tear the Chanter’s beautiful face, ready to sink her teeth in his throat and rip and sever and spill his foul blood until the mesa ran red with it.

For the briefest moment, as she hurtled toward him, Ellery saw the vampire stare at her in shock. His sudden misgiving was clear to read on his perfect face: one trader hadn’t obeyed his enchantment. How could that be?

Then, a heartbeat later, Ellery launched herself directly at the vampire.

Even as she leaped through the air, she knew—in the small corner of her mind that still retained some rationality—that a coyote had no hope of killing a vampire. But the pain of all the suffering animal spirits, and the human traders who had lost them, filled her with a rage that blotted out all caution and could never be controlled. Her paws extended toward the Chanter; her jaws opened wide to tear at him.

She heard Hosteen shout her name, and knew he must have pulled his gun.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T
ime slowed as Ellery leaped over the perverse sand painting. Below her hurtling body, the colored sand seemed to writhe and twist, as if even the elements of the ceremony suffered and tried to free themselves from the vampire’s dark influence.

The vampire opened his mouth, shouting something Ellery couldn’t hear over the roaring of her blood in her ears, and she saw the starlight glint on his sharp-pointed fangs.

She struck him in the chest and, scrabbling with her paws to maintain some hold on his body, snapped her teeth in his face. She fought to sink her own fangs into his flawless flesh, tried to bite his face or his neck.

It should have terrified her, to be so close to such a deadly being. Vampires were bad enough as they were. They possessed the ability to weave subtle influence over others, Para or Typ—to draw their victims deep into enchantments before they could be evaded. But this vampire was a different creature altogether. This one was attempting to capture the animal spirits of Ellery’s own kind. She wouldn’t sit back and do nothing.  Not even if it cost her life.

The vampire gave a wordless yell of surprise. He clawed at Ellery’s pelt as they struggled. The speed and fury of her attack made the Chanter stumble backward, away from the twisted sand painting. She flailed at him with all four paws, trying to keep herself high enough on his body that she would have some small hope of locking her hungry jaws around his throat.

A she tore at him, one of Ellery’s forepaws caught in the tangle of turquoise necklaces that hung around his neck. The strands snapped with a sound like a bone breaking; beads scattered everywhere, bouncing and rolling across the open space, their smooth surfaces sparkling in the starlight.

The vampire roared in outrage as the turquoise fell away. Through her fury, Ellery felt the cool rush of the animal spirits fleeing the vampire, returning to the tokens he had dropped from his hands and which were now strewn around the top of the mesa along with the turquoise beads.

“Ellery!” Hosteen shouted. His voice was the only thing that could penetrate her fury. “Get away!”

She knew Hosteen wanted to fire on the vampire, but she was too intent on wounding the creature now—on inflicting whatever pain she could on the monster who had killed William Roanhorse and the poor trader back in Flagstaff—and who had tried to victimize Vivi, too. She couldn’t stop herself from scratching, clawing, biting. She wasn’t sure she
would
have stopped herself, even if she had been able.

The vampire grappled in return. His piercing blue eyes burned into her own, challenging her with an arrogant hatred that sent spikes of hot and cold lancing through Ellery’s spirit. His magical call was strong. Even now, she could feel the summoning power pulling at her, commanding her, demanding she submit to his will and surrender her trader’s tokens.

But without the turquoise around his neck, it seemed he had lost much of his ability to finesse that pull, to maintain his hold on the other traders. Ellery and the vampire turned and twisted in the grotesque dance of their battle, but even as they fought, she could see the other traders scrambling to retrieve their tokens from the dust and the scattered, colored sand. One by one, they fled into the night in their human or animal forms.

The vampire wrenched one arm away from Ellery’s snapping teeth, then struck a hard blow to her ribcage that sent her flying. She hit the ground in a cloud of gritty dust and lay there, scrabbling weakly with her front paws, trying to pull herself to her feet, struggling to catch her breath.

Gentle arms cradled the coyote’s body, lifting her from the hard, cold ground. For a moment Ellery thought it was Hosteen who held her, but then she heard a low, familiar, female voice speaking close beside her ear.

“Lie still, Ell. I’ve got you. Stop struggling; you might be hurt.”

It was Vivi. Ellery turned her head, wincing at the pain in her neck, and blinked up at her friend. Traces of fear shrouded Vivi’s eyes, but even so, her gaze was hard and determined. The gold chain of her cat token was back around her neck. Back where it belonged.

Vivi pulled Ellery close to her chest, then edged back into the desert shadows, away from the site of the vampire’s perverse sing. Ellery blinked through the haze of her pain. The vampire stooped, trying to retrieve the precious turquoise beads from the mess of colored sand.

If he gets the beads back—

She had no time to consider what might happen if the vampire collected all of the scattered beads.  Or even most of them. In that moment, Hosteen sprinted out from behind his boulder, directly toward the dark-robed creature.

“Freeze!” Hosteen yelled.

The vampire straightened slowly.  His fist was closed tight around his turquoise, and Ellery could have sworn she saw his hand tremble a little. But the slow, arrogant grin he directed at Hosteen sent ice through Ellery’s veins.

Coolly, Hosteen took aim. The night split with the sound of the shot, and it rebounded a moment later from other hills, other mesas, a wave of violent sound washing over the desert.

The vampire staggered back, slammed back by the shot to his chest.

Vivi gasped and clutched Ellery tighter, but Ellery whined in desperation, afraid for Hosteen’s life. The exertion of her fight and the pain of her fall caught up to her, making her head swim, and Ellery was foolish enough in that moment to hope the vampire might fall.

But it was only an ordinary bullet Hosteen had used. Of course; he’d been totally unprepared to fight a vampire.

The black-robed beast righted himself, clapped a hand to his bleeding chest… and laughed at the blood that stained his palm. The sound of his laughter burrowed like a worm into Ellery’s heart, twisting and gnawing toward the core of her being. Slowly, confidently, the vampire stepped forward—one step. Then another.

No
, Ellery tried to shout. But only a strangled whine came from the coyote’s throat. She struggled weakly in Vivi’s grasp, trying to shift back to her human form. But all her strength was gone. She couldn’t make the trade.

As Vivi carried Ellery back into the desert—as the shadows of unconsciousness closed over Ellery’s mind—the last thing she saw was Hosteen, standing in fixed fascination as the vampire locked eyes with him… as the vampire closed with terrible confidence on its prey.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T
he first thing Ellery felt was softness and warmth against her back—the comfort of a safe, peaceful bed, a place to rest easy, to recover from the pain. She lay still. Her body was nestled into the bedding. She smelled the cleanness of the sheets, the familiar odors of a place she knew well.

She was in no danger—she was sure of that, although she couldn’t recall
why
she was thinking about danger, why her mind had even ventured there.

What danger could there be in this bed? Soft…warm…safe.

She regained consciousness slowly, flitting in and out of awareness. There was a pleasant, soothing light in the room, dancing just on the other side of her closed eyelids. When she pried her eyes open, she saw a half-open window partially covered by a long, translucent, lace curtain. The curtain stirred in a lazy breeze. Ellery breathed deeply, searching the breeze for any scents that might indicate danger.

Danger again. Why?

There was no danger here. She heard quiet conversation, and as she listened through her misty daze, the voices took on a familiarity that made her sigh with happiness and snuggle down deeper into the bed. Sylvia. River. Vivi. She heard Sylvia’s soft laughter from another room, and in the same moment, she realized that something strong yet gentle pulsed around her, thrumming like the beat of a well-known heart. She lay still, feeling that pulse. It was a protective spell; Sylvia must have cast it over the bed where Ellery now lay.

More laughter from the other room. The smell of chicken soup drifted toward Ellery along with the sounds of happiness. Her stomach rumbled suddenly, sharply, and the awareness of a powerful hunger brought her fully awake. She moved carefully, sitting up in the bed, blinking as she looked around.

Vivi sat at her bedside, perched on a folding chair, working half-heartedly at a knitting project while she watching Ellery with obvious concern.

“Take it easy,” Vivi said. “Move slowly.”

Sylvia entered the bedroom, carrying a bowl of hot soup in her hands. “You’re awake!”

“And I’m starving.” Ellery’s words grated in her dry throat.

She held out shaking hands for the bowl, savoring the smell for a long moment before she raised the bowl’s rim to her lips, not bothering with the spoon. She sipped the broth. It was only canned soup, she could tell—nothing home-made. But in that moment, she was convinced it was the best thing she’d ever tasted in her life.

Ellery went on drinking down the soup until her stomach began to protest. Vivi took the bowl and set it aside on the night stand. Nourishment had perked up her senses considerably; Ellery looked around with a sharper eye and realized she was in Vivi’s bedroom, at her little cottage on Izabel Street.

She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “How long was I asleep?”

“Nearly a whole day,” Vivi said.

“How did I get here? I was…” She trailed off, struggling to recall what had happened. “I was in my coyote form.”

But what had she been
doing
as Dusty? The last clear memory she had was of grappling with a vampire, clawing desperately at his powerful body while he stared at her with those piercing, predatory eyes.

Ellery shuddered and swallowed hard. “Vampire. Where’s the vampire?”

“Relax,” River said. He leaned against the wall next to the window, arms folded casually across his chest. But Ellery could see the worry in his eyes. “The vampire isn’t here. You’re safe.”

Bit by bit, fragment by fragment, the memories assembled themselves into a clearer vision. “The traders,” Ellery said. “The ones he… enchanted?”

“Got away,” Vivi answered. “Thanks to you. Once that vampire’s enchantment broke, all the traders ran. I carried you back to my car and got you the hell out of there. I brought you right here and called all our friends to let them know I had you.”

“We were worried sick about you,” River added.

Ellery frowned, trying to recall everything that had led up to that moment—the coyote struggling desperately with the terrifying creature. “I sent a text.  I told you I was with…”

“We didn’t know
who
you were with,” Sylvia said.

“They thought the call had taken hold of you, too,” Vivi added. She worked a few more stitches into her knitting, then her hands fell into her lap. She watched Ellery with fear and regret written plainly on her face.

Ellery reached out and squeezed Vivi’s hand. Sylvia and River were the best friends anyone could ask for, but neither of them could possibly understand what Ellery and Vivi had gone through—the terror of being subjected to the vampire’s summons, and worse, the feeling of one’s animal spirits being ripped away.

“Are you all right now?” Sylvia sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Ellery through her thick-rimmed glasses, concern plain in every blink of those big, blue eyes.

“I’m okay,” Ellery insisted, though she still felt sore and trembly. She wondered how Dusty was doing after the fight with the vampire, but the coyote’s spirit seemed content enough. “It’s Vivi we ought to worry about. She was the one who actually had her magic co-opted. Thanks to the spell you cast on that bead, Sylvia, I was mostly okay.”

Vivi shuddered and covered her eyes with one hand. “That was the most awful thing I’ve ever experienced. I can’t even
tell
you what it was like, that certainty that I had to give up my cat spirit, even though I didn’t want to. And then once I gave my token to that… that
thing
… the feeling of my cat being ripped away.”

Her voice broke; for a moment, Ellery thought Vivi would cry. But she regained control and smiled bravely at Ellery. “But you came to find me. And you fought the vampire. You saved me, and the rest of the traders who were there.”

River left his place by the window. He, too, came to Ellery’s bedside. “While you were sleeping, Vivi told us what happened up there on the mesa. It sounds terrifying. I wish we’d been there to help you.”

“You guys are brave,” Ellery said. “And you’re the best friends I could ever want. But I’m glad you didn’t have to face that blood-sucking bastard. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“That place on top of the mesa…” Vivi’s voice was almost inaudible, lost as she was in dark memories. “It was…
awful
. Everything felt so wrong there.”

Ellery nodded slowly. “The power was so strange in that place… the shifting power, I mean.” For Sylvia’s and River’s benefit, she said, “Normally we feel a rush of something when we shift, a kind of power that flows around and through us. But that force was so
strong
there, almost out of control. And the ley lines… I saw them in my owl form. They were like swollen rivers about to break their banks and flood the whole world. It scared me.”

“Me too,” Vivi whispered.

“It didn’t scare Dusty enough, though,” Ellery said with a rueful laugh. “My coyote was going
crazy
, but the human side of me knew I should have just run away as fast as I could go…” She trailed off, looking down at her hands. “How did I get back to my human form, anyway?”

“You shifted back in your sleep,” Vivi said. “I didn’t know that could happen, but apparently sleep-shifting is a thing now.”

“There are a lot of
things
now that were never
things
before,” Ellery said drily. “A vampire that can shift, for example.”

“Only with stolen tokens,” Vivi said.

“But he sure had some innovative ways of getting those tokens, didn’t he?”

“And,” River said, “anybody who thinks that vampire is through with his pursuit of unorthodox knowledge is a fool.”

Sylvia nodded soberly. “I agree. He’ll be looking for more ways to steal magic, and he’ll use more aggressive tactics. Vampires are like that.”

Vampires are like that
.

Ellery remembered the penetrating, cold confidence in the creature’s eyes.

The creature’s eyes
—

—locked with Hosteen’s.

Hosteen, frozen in place, helpless before the advancing vampire, as Ellery was carried away…

Hosteen!

She tossed the blanket aside and tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness stopped her.

Vivi pressed her back against the pillows, gentle but firm. “Where do you think you’re going, Ell?”

“Back to the Rez.”

“You can’t,” Sylvia said. “You aren’t well enough yet. And anyway, that vampire is still out there—”

“I know,” Ellery cried desperately. “And he has Hosteen.”

“Who?” Sylvia exchanged confused glances, first with Vivi, then River.

“Hosteen. He’s a Typ,” Ellery said quickly, squirming to get up again. “An officer with the tribal police.”

“Whoa!” Vivi stood, towering over Ellery. “What are you thinking, girl? You can’t mess around with the tribal police.” Vivi knew just enough about Ellery’s past to understand that the Rez held certain dangers for her. “You should never have gone back to the reservation in the first place. Though I can’t say I’m sorry you did, since you saved my magic, and possibly my life, too. Still: it’s not a risk you can afford to run a second time.”

Sylvia bit her lip, unable to meet Ellery’s eye. Finally, she said, “If the vampire had your friend, Ell, then you know it’s already too late. I’m so sorry.”

Ellery shook her head in helpless denial. She
refused
to believe it was true. She managed to stand up this time, and her legs were steadier than she expected them to be.

“Vivi’s right,” River said. “It’s too dangerous for you to go back. Even if you weren’t weakened like this, still you couldn’t mess around with a vampire. You
can’t
. Especially not a vampire of this kind, capable of stealing somebody else’s magic.”

Ellery clenched her fists. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going after Hosteen.”
Whatever is left of him
. “I’m going to get him away from that vampire, even if it kills me. I owe him that much, at least.”

Ellery headed through Vivi’s house toward the back door. Her friends scrambled after her, still trying desperately to convince her that it was crazy to try it, crazy to even think about confronting the vampire a second time.

“Contact the tribal police, if you want to do something,” Sylvia suggested. “He’s a Typ; they’ll take the report seriously. They’ll look for him and help him if they can.”

“Take it seriously?” Ellery snorted. “What, when I tell them that a vampire put an enchantment on one of their own? They’ll just hang up on me, if they don’t laugh me right out of Arizona first.”

She made it to the back door and swung it open, but Vivi caught her by the arm. Ellery turned to face her friend.

“Don’t do this,” Vivi pleaded. “I lost my cat spirit once. Only for a few minutes, but those few minutes were agony. If you won’t think of yourself right now, Ellery, then think of your animals.”

She hesitated, yielding for a moment to Vivi’s advice.

Ellery reached through her tokens with tentative care, asking Dusty and Ghost Owl what they wanted her to do. After all, Vivi was right: it wasn’t only Ellery herself who would be caught in the vampire’s sick enchantment if the plan went badly.

Not that she had a plan at all…

Ellery touched their spirits almost timidly, but she found Ghost Owl ruffling his feathers in eagerness, opening his pale, hooked beak in a screech of determination that she felt echoing through her heart. And Dusty stood stoic and alert, her senses quivering with readiness for the hunt.

Gently, Ellery pulled herself free of Vivi’s grip.

“I’m going,” she said. “And I’m ready.”

As ready as I’ll ever be
.