First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) (8 page)

Amber clung to the carved wooden stair rail while Smoke wrestled with the front door. Despite his efforts the stained-glass door stayed firmly shut. He grabbed the knob again, shaking it, twisting it with enough force to turn the house upside down, but it refused to yield. Behind him Amber swayed and leaned harder on the rail. Lightning caught her about the waist and pushed her into a rattan chair, forcing her head down.

“I’m fine,” said Amber, her hair falling over her face.

“Sure and I believe you, too,” said Smoke. “I also believe the sun rises in the north, snow falls up and you can be allowed to wander around bookstores unsupervised. Now stay sitting down until I fix this.”

“Okay,” she whispered, holding her aching head in her hands.

Smoke nodded then turned to Lightning.

“Go round the house. Check the back door. Something’s wrong here.”

“Righto.”

Lightning bounced off, running down the side of the house. Amber sank back against the cushions and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and so hungry she was nauseated, but the thought of eating anything churned her stomach painfully.

Manny and Rust appeared on the other side of the glass door.

“Hey, guys, what’s happening?”

“The house won’t let us in!” said Smoke.

“That’s ridiculous.” Rust seized the inside doorknob and started tugging. Smoke grabbed the outside knob and added his strength. Lightning appeared in the corridor behind his brothers.

“The back door opened for me, no problem,” he said.

“Okay,” said Smoke. “Amber is a little weak to walk around the house. And this door should open.” He stared at the door for a moment, holding his chin in his hand. “Let’s test something. Lightning, Rust, come on out here and help Amber back to the car. I want her away from the house.”

The brothers disappeared deeper into the house.

“This is stupid,” said Amber, but didn’t fight when her cousins appeared and helped her back down the veranda steps.

As soon as her feet reached the gravel path the door behind her snicked open; but when she turned to face the house the door slammed shut, despite Smoke and Manny’s efforts to hold it open.

“That settles it,” Smoke stated calmly. “The house wants Amber to stay out for some reason.”

“Well, damn the house,” whispered Amber. “I want in!”

“Take it easy,” Smoke replied, his voice firm yet soothing. “The wards don’t mean it personally. It’s just something has happened and you have to stay outside until you fix it.”

“Personally? It’s not as if I’m on
fire.
Why would the house want me to stay outside?”

“The only change is you coming in contact with the monster. It must have done something to you the house doesn’t like. I could bring out a sleeping bag and tent if you want. We could set it up near the lake.”

Smoke’s calm acceptance of the situation infuriated Amber and she considered various revenges. All of which required, first, that she have access to the house.

“Look at me, Smoke. Do you think I’m well enough to go camping?”

He actually took the time to look. If she’d been feeling stronger she would have punched him for taking so long to think about it.

“No,” he said eventually, and as far as Amber could tell, reluctantly.

“Then get me in. I do not want to camp out when I have a perfectly acceptable bed waiting for me,” she gasped for breath then stabbed her finger at the door. “Inside.”

“Before you go in we have to find out what the problem is.”

“I haven’t the strength to deal with it now.”

“Apparently the house doesn’t care about that.”

“Well, bugger the house.”

Lightning and Rust grinned and shook their fingers at her.

“There’s no reason to be swearing, cousin,” said Lightning.

“Not to mention physically impossible,” added Rust.

“And uncomfortable to try …” added Manny, thoughtfully.

“Enough,” Smoke waved an impatient hand over his shoulder at his brothers.

Amber was too tired to scream so she settled for being reasonable.

“I have no idea what’s wrong. I don’t know how to fix what I know nothing about and if I can’t get to the library I have no way of finding out.”

The door lock snicked again. Smoke put one finger onto the door handle and pushed the door smoothly open. It stayed open as Amber cautiously approached. As she crossed the threshold a series of loud slams came from deep within the house making everyone jump. Amber stumbled over her own feet; the quick action of her cousins spared her another embarrassing collapse to the floor. By the time she was steady only one of the hallway doors was standing open. Rust ran upstairs while Lightning explored the corridor.

Rushing back he said, “The library door is open. All the others are stuck shut.”

“What if I need to use the workroom,” asked Amber, “or need to get supplies from upstairs? Go to bed?”

The doors stayed firmly shut.

“I think you’re being allowed in to research your problem and only that,” said Smoke. “Bring her in, guys.”

By the time Amber reached the library Smoke was shaking out a duvet onto a daybed. Lightning returned carrying a tray. The familiar scent of chicken soup filled the air and Amber groaned, pressing her hand to her stomach.

“I can’t …”

“Eat up,” commanded Smoke, as Amber lowered herself onto the daybed. “The doctors said you were to get as much rest as possible.”

Fighting with them in her current state was useless. She forced herself to eat the first few mouthfuls. For a moment the soup threatened to come straight back up, then her stomach settled and she downed the soup, a roll, and herbal tea. She moved her head experimentally from side to side. The loose sensation was still there, but she could also sense a weight pressing on her from the outside. She stared up at the ceiling, frowning.

“What’s up?” demanded Smoke.

“I … I can feel something heavy pushing at me. Do you think the house is still trying to push me out?”

“Don’t think so,” Smoke glanced up and away. “You’re in. You’re family. Whatever the issue it has with you, you’ve been allowed in. Why?”

“Well, I can feel something. Actually, it’s kind of … comforting.”

“Comforting?”

“Yeah. Since the attack I’ve been feeling like I was going to fall out of my body if I turned too fast. Now I feel like I’m being held in.”

Smoke rubbed his chin as he stared upwards.

“Could be the wards. The house doesn’t like what happened to you and is trying to keep it contained. Has the side effect of keeping you together.” Smoke studied her for a moment. “Do you mind?”

“No. I feel better. Secure. Like a warm blanket.”

“Try and get some sleep. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

She didn’t notice the tray being taken away or the cousins tucking the duvet around her shoulders. Within minutes she was asleep.

Amber woke a few times during the afternoon, blinking in the dimming sunlight. One or another of the cousins was seated across the room from her, keeping watch. Each time her eyes flickered over she was required to count fingers and name presidents – as required by the discharge orders. She was still too tired to argue with the house about permission to go to her bedroom, let alone going downstairs to her aunt’s workroom. Sighing she settled back to sleep.

* * * * *

The sky above her was a freakin’ weird vivid burning orange. Amber scuffed her feet over the rocks, raising little puffs of blue dust. Lifting her bare feet she stared at the blue stain on her yellow skin. She was naked. Not usual for her. She rarely if ever had naked-in-public dreams. She didn’t have that sort of vulnerability issue.

“Nice color scheme,” muttered Amber, and listened to her voice drop into the silence. “Not what I’d choose for a living room, but maybe … Well, no, wouldn’t like it in any room.”

She licked her lips and tasted the dry air.

Dirt, dust. The scents were vaguely familiar. They tasted like … cooked metal? Ah, yes. Like the time she visited a blacksmith in Williamsburg. The sooty metal tang stayed in her mouth for a week.

The dry overheated air was already pulling moisture from her skin. She glanced down at her hands watching the skin loosen and pucker. Her mouth was dry and her tongue stuck to the inside of her lips.

Wolf cry rang out to her left and she turned. She could see a pack paused, posing on the ridge.

Amber laughed.

Oh, puuleeeease. How classic!

Seated with the muzzle raised to the sky; that was definitely posing. All that was needed now was a glowing full moon hovering overhead. She glanced up. No moon. No stars.

Amber’s totem animals tended toward birds: owls, sparrows, ravens, hawks, reflecting her light spirit and searching nature. Although she’d been contacted by a bear spirit once that was almost a year ago and she was still waiting for the confirming visits. New guides could declare themselves at any time and it wasn’t as if she didn’t need some advice.

Amber shrugged. Okay. She would be polite and welcoming even if the spirit was being theatrical. Who was she to judge the spirit of the wolf? Maybe the wolf was here to help her against the spider.

She wasn’t certain about the mythology. Was there a First People legend she could look up?

But if this was a first contact, then the current behavior of the wolves was unusual. Wolves. Yes. There were several coming over the hill now. They stalked toward her, each movement telegraphing suspicion, confusion … anger.

Now that was different from the guides she’d previously attracted. Amber’s off beat sense of humor usually called guides who demonstrated a similar attitude. Maybe she was going to be told to take things in her life a little more seriously. That wouldn’t be a surprise. Maybe she was due for a spirit guide type kick in the butt. She deserved it after this morning’s pitiful showing. Getting caught? Shameful.

One of the lead wolves raised his head and gave a hunting cry. At the command the pack charged toward her, the dust their paws raised streaming behind them in the heavy air. After a few hundred yards the charge faltered. The wolves slowed and exchanged almost human glances.

Amber stood, waiting.

Behind them came a snarl and they resumed running directly at Amber. Howls echoed to the horizon and back.

Amber settled her feet on the hot stones, ignoring the burning pain.

It’s only a dream. Pain is transient.

Wait.

The wolves ran hard toward her until a few feet away, then the tide of fur parted and they rushed past her to either side. Wheeling about they stalked toward her … prowling … circling … constantly moving. Jostling for position. They yipped, snarled, and growled, to each other and at her.

Run … run … run … came a whisper in her mind.

One wolf took up position behind her, brushing against her skin. Then he leaned his weir body against her, trying to force her down or into motion.

She dug her toes into the stone, refusing to move.

The other wolves started running back and forth across the dream. Away, then back to where she stood. With each mock charge her heart beat faster. The skin on the back of her neck crawled and her instinct demanded she run. Hide. Amber breathed deep through her nose, forcing herself to stay still, calm. One wolf leapt, flying past her in a blur of fur and teeth. She moved her head just enough to dodge the snapping muzzle only inches from her face.

Run … run … run …

From her childhood came the warning in her father’s voice. Never run from a dog. If you run, he will chase. They will always chase. Once you run, you’re prey. Don’t run.

Run … run …

Amber studied the wolves as they paced around her feet. She couldn’t remember offering offense to the world of the spirit guides. Done nothing recently that would inspire an attack. Unless by touching the web she’d become contaminated. Rejected by the spirit world as well as the house?

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The words sank, dull and empty into the dream.

The wolves did not respond.

Perhaps this is an ordinary nightmare, thought Amber, examining the dreamscape again.

No. That didn’t seem likely. Her imagination didn’t work that way. This was no ordinary dream. This was intense. Too much detail. Too much information.

One heavy male took up position directly before her, a hundred yards away, looked into her eyes and pawed the earth. Deep in his chest she could hear him grumbling. Growling threats.

Claws digging into the hard soil he ran toward her. Each movement graceful, determined. He gave her plenty of time to fear, to panic; so she refused to do either.

Instead she resisted the emotions, digging her fingernails into her palm. At the last moment she dropped face down as the wolf leapt, passing over her. Twisting and coming back up on her knees Amber saw the wolf land again. Immediately a dark pelted bitch rushed him, knocking the leaper to his side. The male rolled onto his back and bared his throat in submission. The bitch glanced toward Amber, almost questioning.

Amber remained crouched and made no move, no sound, still ignoring the others who clustered close against her skin. The brush of their fur raised the hairs on the back of her bare arms. The wolf bitch looked back and forth between the still cowering male and Amber. Then with a savage rip of her teeth, tore out the male’s throat. His blood fountained into the air, with each beat of his heart throwing his life up and out to cover the watching wolves. Howling, the pack rushed past Amber and joined their alpha in feeding on blood flowing from his ruined neck.

Licking her blood splattered muzzle the she-wolf stared at Amber.

Next time, came the whisper. Next time … run.

Chapter Three

Amber awoke, shaking. Cold to the bone. Cold in her spirit.

Safe. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering under the warm covers. She was home and safe. Nothing could hurt her in her aunt’s house. The wards were old and strong and … nevertheless, her heart was pounding in her throat.

“That was really … odd.”

Odd. No, more than odd. Sick. Scary. Wrong. Very wrong.

Spirit guides did
not
attack
. They might put her through the psychic equivalent of running an obstacle course, but they didn’t try to kill her. Or each other.