First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) (17 page)

The frantically beaten chime pulled at her spirit hard, back the way she’d come, but the sticky fibers here still enveloped her, holding her back. Drinking her. Amber struggled against the threads. She might be out of the bedroom, but the energy of the web was directed to drawing things in. Nothing was supposed to leave.

And time was passing.

Amber reached out to the sluggish Earth energy. It was barely perceptible under the weight of the city and refused to rise to her call.

“Come on, guys,” Amber stretched her immaterial fingers through the tight web. “Come on, give a little.”

The ley lines nearby were thin, fragile, ground down by the number of people in the city and the pathological web presence in this chamber. Earth was tired, but she didn’t have a choice. Using what little personal energy remained she stirred up the Earth energy feeding it into the threads, encouraging them to lengthen a little and watched the flash of the energy as it passed along the fibers.

Ah, there it goes.

It was going to be like unraveling knitting. She could do it, with enough time and energy.

Again and again she drew in power and poured the new strength into her bindings. They throbbed, gulped it down greedily and relaxed, temporarily satisfied.

The journey home passed in fits and starts. Every time the web tightened and tried to drag her back Amber gathered energy and fed it. Amber struggled, balancing strengthening the enemy with the need to get home and wished she could weep with frustration.

Finally she saw the milky-white glow of the Five Corners Farm wards. She sank toward it, desperately reaching out toward her body, safe inside.

The house raised a warning flare on the Ethereal as she approached.

Oh, darn it to heck and back
, muttered Amber, sliding back out of reach.

Amber could see the glow of the ancient lode stone in the basement. It was no surprise to see the house shields being strengthened against her. Amber could hear the frantic beat of the chimes echoing on the Ethereal. She had no idea of the time, no idea of the condition of her body, but she could feel her spirit’s weakness. She had to reunite body and spirit soon. The house shields shook and pulsed in warning. It hadn’t wanted to permit her physical body through the door, now it was rejecting her spirit form. Amber shook loose a small fragment of her remaining energy and reached toward the shield.

The house recoiled in shock; its deeply ingrained spells quivered in recognition of a family member but remained strong against her. Obviously her current appearance, almost completely covered in contamination, had set up a conflict within the spells. The house’s purpose was to protect and nurture the family. Its function included prevention of invasions of evil. Now it had a family member coming home, weakened and under attack and burdened by a toxic spell.

Covered in evil.

Surely the house could sense she was out here, that she was dying. If she could get a message to Smoke he could take her body outside the house wards, except he wouldn’t. Never would. If he got a message demanding that, he’d assume it was from someone who wanted her to die. Smoke, even if Amber were able to communicate with him, knew the dangers of moving a spirit-traveler’s body. He would never take a helpless person outside a circle of protection, or a member of the family out of the house if they were under attack. Amber thought about screaming in frustration.

She had to get in. Years of research and planning by much more experienced witches had gone into creating the house protections. Attacking would be a waste of her waning strength even if she could cast spells. Amber drifted closer to the house. There was a pulse in the wards. Instead of dodging Amber reached out, accepting the sting, the pain of the blow.

There was a startled awareness in the energy and she felt another pulse pass over her, through her and the pain withdrew. She rested her spirit against the outer wards. The house acknowledged her, did not push her away, and she welcomed the familiar warmth. Amber extended a tendril of herself to the wards, letting her fear, her awareness of danger, leak in. The house shuddered again and extended the shield to surround her, encasing her in a shell.

Not enough
, thought Amber,
Nice compromise, but not enough.

She reached out to the house again, letting fear of impending death cross into its awareness. She needed to be with her body. There was a pause while the house considered. Amber glanced in. Now she was inside the wards she could see Smoke again. He glanced up directly at her then closed his eyes, his lips moving. Amber couldn’t hear what was said, but the house did. Still enclosed in the shell the house pulled her through the wards and held her captive. Amber’s next communication was a feeling of failing strength, of her desperate need to be near her body. The house yielded, depositing her contaminated spirit in the library and strengthened every inner ward to keep her there.

Home
, thought Amber, as her spirit sank into her physical form. She shuddered as she felt the disgusting mass of binding cords entering with her.

She rolled onto her side, her stomach heaving. Bile rose in her throat and she vomited on the floor.

Instead of a howl of triumph she let out a wheezing breath. Tears of pain leaked from her eyes and her fingers clawed desperately at the floor.

“Clear her airway,” came a familiar voice and a rough hand wrapped in a towel wiped her mouth.

“Smoke? Smoke,” gasped Amber.

“Is she seizing?” demanded another voice, further away. Rust. She had never been so grateful for sound.

“No. Throw me that pillow and that blanket. She’s ice cold.”

To her shock it was not Smoke, but Manny who was sitting patiently ringing the meditation chime. Smoke was seated, supporting her head in his lap with his hands on each side of her face. He looked almost as pale and exhausted as she felt.

He’d been feeding her his strength! While she’d been traveling he’d been keeping her alive with his own life force.

Lightning and Rust were waiting just outside the circle. When she moved, Rust jumped up, respectfully cut the circle, and ran to her side. Lightning covered her with a blanket. Lifting her carefully between them, the cousins walked toward the main library door and prepared to carry her into the house. The door slammed shut, hard.

“You wanna see how fast I can get an ax and smash through that door?” Smoke snarled, and his brothers bared their teeth. “She’s sleeping in a proper bed tonight!”

The door swung open, with such a well-if-you-insist air that Amber tried to laugh. All that came out was a dry wheezing cough. She blinked weakly at her cousins.

“How long …?” she whispered.

Smoke cursed in several different languages as they carried her into the ground floor guest room. “Little girl, next time you go tripping the light Ethereal … will you listen to your come-back call? You were gone sixteen hours.”

“The house didn’t want to let me in, Smoke. I’ve got stuff on my spirit now. So much …”

“What?” demanded Smoke. “Amber, what happened?”

“The web. Oh, Smoke, the web. The web
is
the monster! And it’s got me good and proper.”

And the dark came.

* * * * *

Amber groaned as she examined the sky.

“I do not need this,” she shouted to the uncaring universe, ashamed to hear the whine in her voice, “I’m too fucking tired for games tonight.”

Then she looked around and coughed. The sound echoed.

The last time she was here she hadn’t been able to make a sound. Something had changed.

It was the same dreamscape for the third night in a row. Well, her enemy was consistent. She scanned the horizon. So far, no wolves. Counting that as a good thing Amber started walking, the dust her feet disturbed rising and falling in noiseless puffs.

The silence shattered as a distant wolf howled. She spun, but there was nothing to see. No posing. No runners. The howls came again and she realized that they were going away from her. Amber ran toward the sound, the superheated air tearing at her lungs. More wolves cried out and Amber heard a voice cursing. A human voice. She topped a rise and crouched behind a pile of rocks.

The wolves had brought down their prey. A man, long and thin and familiar lay sprawled on the stone while the lead bitch prowled around his body. Karl Benn’s naked body writhed on the heated stone as the wolves butted against his body, growling and snapping.

Amber’s ears buzzed and her skin itched. She could feel power rising, higher, sharper but she was not the one calling it.

It was being called from her!

Then her strength fled, all the energy she’d gathered during the day, all the strength Smoke donated, gone. The pain drove her to the ground, her breasts scraping across the rough stone and she lay, gasping and helpless.

Karl shrieked again, drowning out Amber’s cry as the Elemental energy was torn from her. She felt it rush from her and tried to catch it, pull it back. It slipped through her psychic fingers pouring into Karl. Through Karl. Through and away.

Amber grabbed a little personal energy, wrapped it around her spirit, and prepared to ride out the storm. On the rocks before her she saw Karl writhing. Even in the strange light of this nightmare his color was bad. His breathing was ragged. His hands clawed at his chest, then he spasmed, his left arm contracted and pressed against his chest, then his whole body bowed up as he cried out and collapsed.

The prowling wolves stopped their howls and sniffed at him. The lead bitch ceased her dance and lowered her muzzle to his contorted face. Amber gasped, pressing herself to the stone. The last person she’d seen with that face was a co-worker in the grip of a heart attack.

* * * * *

She woke panting and turned her head just enough to see the glowing numbers of the alarm clock: 5:16 a.m.

Her eyes drifted shut and she lay waiting for the pain to ebb. Elemental energy had torn through her system at speed. Torn through and torn out and left her channels abraded. If what she’d seen in the nightmare-scape was real, it wasn’t Karl doing it. She’d already come to the conclusion he was a victim; now she knew he hadn’t started this mess. He was well and truly caught. Just like her.

And … oh, my God, she’d forgotten.

Karl! Uncaring of the damage and not worrying about being polite, she hauled in Elemental energy until she could drag herself to her feet. Dressed and running through the house she skidded to a halt next to the house phone and clung to the wall.

“Damn, damn. Damn.”

She couldn’t call the ambulance for him. She didn’t know where he lived.

Somewhere in Laurenville, Karl was having a heart attack and she couldn’t call for help. She didn’t know where to send help.

She had to find him. There might be only minutes, seconds before he died. Closing her eyes she felt for the web, the link between them, and fed a little Elemental energy down hoping it would reach him. She stumbled into the hall and grabbed the wall to stay upright.

“Smoke! Smoke! Guys! I need you. Now! Now! Now!”

Amber drove, or rather flew the Aztec down the road to Laurenville. Smoke clung to the passenger side door as they swung through a series of turns.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to achieve,” he said calmly. “Are you going to knock on every door in Laurenville? What if he lives in another town?”

“We’re going to the bookstore,” said Amber, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. “If he’s half as efficient as I think he is, he’s included his own home address in his list of employees and it will be on his computer. We’ll hit the bookstore then call the ambulance. Send it to his house.”

“How are you going to exp …?”

“Please, Smoke, I don’t know and right now I don’t care. He’s dying.”

“So?”

Amber flashed a glance toward her cousin then scowled and returned her attention to the road. “He isn’t the villain of the piece. He’s one of the victims.”

“You’re sure of this?”

“You didn’t see what I saw on … this dreamscape I’ve been seeing since I got caught by the web. He … they …” She pulled into the parking lot and scrambled out of the car. “They were eating his spirit, his life force. You don’t do that to the chief bad guy, okay?”

“Fine.” Smoke followed her out of the car; Lightning, Rust, and Manny bailed out of the rear seat. “Boys, go around back. See if you can find a door with no alarm.”

“We don’t have time to be careful,” cried Amber.

“You don’t get to tell me about time or careful,” snarled Smoke. “We already know what happens to you when you go off unprepared. Or are you going to tell me that the web you’ve gotten tangled in is all a joke?”

Amber sighed and clutched her fan in her hand. “Sorry, Smoke.”

“Smoke,” shouted Lightning, banged on the bookstore window. “We can see him. He’s on a camp bed.”

They ran to join Lightning who was leaning both hands on the large window on the side of the building. They could see the end of a camp bed positioned between two of the tall free standing bookcases and Karl slumped, half on half off, tangled in the blankets.

“Is he breathing? Can you see?” asked Amber, taking up the position beside Lightning.

“No. I can’t tell. Can’t see his chest.”

“Damn it. We have to get in.”

“No setting off the alarms,” said Smoke.

“I’ll do it,” said Lightning. “I sent away for a lock pick kit.”

“Are you nuts? Do you think this store has some dinky, stupid easy-to-pick lock? There should be a computerized security …” Amber paused. “Where the hell is the back door?”

“We could call the police,” suggested Manny. “Tell them we can see him through the window and we think he’s sick?”

“And how would we explain being here before six in the morning?” asked Smoke. “Are we waiting for coffee?”

“Besides,” said Amber, ducking around to the rear of the building. “He doesn’t look sick. He looks like he’s fallen out of bed. They won’t do anything. Yes! Look. A programmed keyless system.”

“Oh, damn,” said Lightning and tucked his lock picks away.

“Can you get into this?” demanded Smoke.