The Carver's Magic (28 page)

“You claimed me?” She whispered.

I reached behind me and felt for her knee. I rubbed it, “Do you object?” Not that it would matter. She isn’t going anywhere.

“Do you really want me?” I could feel her insecurities in her words.

I can feel her!
The wave of her emotions came at me full force. She is worried, and yet overcome with joy. “Don’t doubt me. I don’t do anything that I don’t mean.” And just because I knew she needed to hear it, I answered, “Yes I want you. And I will show you how much as soon as we get back home.”

I could feel her blush. I look back to smile at her.

“Look out!” The poser yells. I turn back just in time to yank the wheel and avoid hitting the chick with glowing orange eyes.
Crap
.

The air around me combusts and the windows
burst. A large gust of wind picks up the car and tosses it. I reach out, grabbing both the poser and Cory, teleporting to my Reservoir 11. As soon as we touch the ground we are all hit by another large gust of wind and Cory flies from my arms. I teleport to her, and look around for the poser. He has shifted to his wolf form and is running quickly with the potion in his mouth.

I would have let him take care of the rest himself, but I need to help Beth get free or Cory will be disappointed. With Cory in my arms I teleport to the wolf, grab his haunch and teleport to Sid.

Sid’s house is in ashes. I look around and she is no where. The poser shakes me off and takes off. Cory grabs her head and I know someone is attacking her with magic. I teleport to Theya, who happens to be at a vendor at a park. She’s sipping on a purple drink watching something when she lifts her head, as if she can sense me. She says something to the vendor and buys another purple drink. I walk to her with Cory in tow, hoping that Cory will do me a favor and let me fight this one without her.

Theya holds out the drink to Cory with a shy smile. Cory takes it and glowers at me, “I won’t be able to think if you get hurt. Stay here with Theya. She won’t let anything happen to you. Right?” I glanced at Theya.

“I’m not a seer Shane,” she says.

“You’ve never been wrong yet,” I return. She’s never told me her power. In fact, she has tried to convince me she didn’t have any power. Her sister, the one I spent time with at nights, would say the same thing, but I knew Theya had a special talent and I also knew she was never going to tell me about it.

I kiss Cory and teleport back to the poser’s pack. Priorities first. Save Beth, fight the council, then take out my father and end this stupid fucking conflict.

I shake my head knowing it’s not going to be that easy. The chick with the orange eyes is standing on a burnt porch with her arms folded. Dressed in black tights, fur boots, a jean mini skirt with rips in it, and a sports bra.
Trashy
Carver.

"You came back?" The chick says, surprised. She twisted her hand and I felt the air begin to move around me. It bothers me that she knows I was here before.

My father walks out of a half-burnt house, eyes glowing red. "Ah, excellent timing,” he rubs off the blood on his hands on an already bloody towel. My fire and I trust the odds that that blood is not Sid’s. But no matter, he hurt Cory.

I teleport the few feet, let my fire rise to my skin, and throw a wild haymaker connecting with the bastard’s jaw. Hitting him in any other way would be unsatisfying. I feel his jaw give in to my punch, unhinging.

My father flies backward and hits the ash covered dirt so hard that he slides another few feet. His eyes find me. The look of death does nothing to me.

"You can't kill stone, Shane," he says, rubbing his jaw as he stands up.

He teleports a half arm-length from me and throws an overhand right. I lose my step and fall back. When I try to get up I feel as though I am in an invisible cage. I hit the air and it’s hard, it won’t let me out. I try and teleport but I am still in this damn box!

At once several rocks fly out of nowhere. I curl into a ball and protect my face as the rocks strike my arms. The Trashy Carver starts to laugh, “Get caught in a snare Shane? You can thank the witches for that. They put them all over this wolf park.”

"Shane,” my father grates out, “do you know what a witch’s snare is? No? Had you stayed with me and trained, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and you would know how to get out of the witch’s snare." More rocks hit me all over my body. I think I have several broken ribs, as well as a large gash somewhere on my head; I can feel the wetness and a throbbing pain. He leans down and whispers, "I will always be stronger than you. I don’t care that you are made of fire. I can’t die."

My fire wants a go at him and I let it out, breaking my skin and turning me into the firebird that lurks beneath my skin and shares my soul. Now I see the pink lines around me in a box shape. The rocks stop coming at me and now I can feel water sizzling around me.

“Why isn’t it working?” My father yells.

“My water’s evaporating before it reaches him,” shouts a guy with dark, black hair and a black tank top, arms covered with tattoos. His eyes are glowing light blue.

My fire pushes out towards them until they teleport further back. I can see my father saying something to the other Carver. All of them walk into another house and I don’t see them, but I can hear screams from men, women, and children.

My fire and I push against the lines with all our might but nothing is happening. I scratch, claw, and screech until the ground begins to shake. I look around and watch as two posers walk out from a house that has collapsed. After two steps, one of the posers morphs into Beth. My indifference to her has evaporated like water. I need her help, and I know she will be more than willing to give it, considering that my father is here. He is the one who hurt Cory and he is also attacking the pack of her… whatever Dar is to her.

The poser morphs into a hellishly large black wolf, with patches of dark brown on his paws and belly. I can see he has a white rope around his chest, as if it is guarded, protected. Beth has the same white rope in her chest. It is odd to be able to see the magic, and yet see her normally at the same time.

Beth looks at me for a second before she teleports just outside the box. She holds up the vile. There is still some left. I pulled my fire in and feel my skin once more. I hear a wolf howl and I turned to see the poser pulling the water Carver out of a house. The wolf is soaking wet, and the Carver is trying to create a ball of water around the dog, but the dog isn’t letting go of the Carver’s neck.

The Carver lets go of his water and tries getting free of the wolf that had just pulled out a large chunk from his collar. The blood sprayed the wolf’s fur. The black wolf grabs the man’s neck once more, and I swear the dog’s mouth is so large the man’s neck fits in it like a bone. The wolf chomps down and pulls, separating the head from the body.

The body sizzled and gushed out water, spraying out at least fifty feet. Beth threw the vile at me and ran to the wolf. The Trashy Carver came out of one of the houses and charged at the wolf and Beth.

I grab the vile, letting every last drop down my throat. I hope the potion is strong enough to effect me. I can feel the change happening immediately. Interestingly, I feel a lot deadlier.

I push up off the ground and walk out of the box. I teleport to where my father is using his magic to hit the poser with a rock the size of a small car. I am able to grab the poser right before the rock hit. I dropped him off near Beth and returned to my father.

Once more, I noticed his hands had more blood on them. Remembering the old homeless man from when I was younger, I have a vague idea what he was doing in there, and it was too much to even let those thoughts linger.

This time when I teleported with my arm cocked back, I slammed into a large boulder. It didn’t crack it. It didn’t even phase it. I touched it with my palm and pushed my fire into it. If I couldn’t beat him to death, maybe I could cook him to death. When the rock had turned to a bright red, it still didn’t budge.

I continued punching, regardless of the affect. The rock moved only when the poser joined me punching the rock. The rock reformed into my father, quickly grabbing the poser around the waste, and teleported.

I spare no time in following them, keeping my father’s picture clear in mind. When I pop into a forest of gigantic trees I see the poser leave a dent in one of the Titan sized trees, just as my father teleported behind him. My father sends the poser into the ground with a right hook. I teleport to my father’s side, slamming my shin into his unprotected body, hopefully knocking his liver into a state of no return.

Richard’s eyes glow when he sees me. He turns, pulling back his fist. I knew it was going to hurt because he was made of stone. All third generation Carvers have a connection to earth and stone. But before he was able to connect with my already shielded face, he stumbled. His eyes bugged for a moment as if he had lost control of his legs. He would have fell on his own but the poser, in wolf form, latched onto his neck, effectively breaking a large hole in the side of my father’s neck.

The wolf continues to snarl and rip apart my father’s body. I stand, numb, not feeling anything for what bloody mangled mess my father ends up as. He can’t hurt anyone now, and there is no way of healing past that.

That’s the interesting thing about Carvers. They have the potential to be immortal but if someone chops off your head, pulls out your heart, or wounds you so far, you can die. We were not infallible; we are just like the other super naturals that can succumb to death.

When the wolf finished, he phased back to human. His eyes are still amber but I hold out my arm, unafraid, offering to return him to his pack lands. He wipes off the blood as best he can, but he is covered in bits of flesh.

The poser took off the second we popped into his pack lands. He was headed to Beth, who has Trashy Carver in a triangle choke hold. The girl’s face is bloody, her eyes are glowing orange, and it is pretty clear that the tornados circling were her power.

I run to the last house my father had come out of, and let my fire rise to my eyes, effectively turning them into the Phoenix’s eyes. There are no pink lines, or any color lines keeping anyone inside.

I found the basement door magically locked, so the people are obviously down there. I burn the door to ash in moments. When I am half way down the stairs, I am tripped and several big men start punching my face. I fill with fire, letting it out of my hands, “I’m not here to hurt you, but if you don’t get off me, I’m going to burn each and every one of you to ash.” They got up, amber eyes glowing from most of them.

The floor is sopping wet and I am covered in mud. One older man with buzzed, light hair clearly doesn’t trust me. Another man is next to him who could pass as his son, ridden with tattoos on his knuckles, arms and collar looks like he is about to snap, except, his eyes aren’t glowing. He looks at me with the same scowl as the man that looked like his father.

The others are all crowded behind the two macho heads. I pointed at the stairs, “They’re gone.” The father and son stayed in between the rest of the survivors and myself. As they leave, single file up the stairs, I look around to see what had happened down here.

Behind me I saw a lump. It was covered in mud. It looked dead. Looked back to the two men wondering if they were going to take the dead body up top.

The older man had been watching me, curiosity mixed with hatred, “She’s a bloodsucker. We don’t share our blood with them.” I wasn’t sure if he hated me or the dead person more.

The Menace, next to him, flinched when he talked about blood.

I turned back around, not sure I wanted to actually… wait. Blood suckers turn to ash when they die. I kneel down next to the body and push the face back that was malformed and practically skinned. Sid.

No!
“Sid?” I felt for a pulse in the sagged water saturated skin. Not sure exactly if vampires had pulses. Nothing felt alive under my skin. I can feel my fire rattling in my chest. I don’t want her to die. She had helped me when I needed her the most – she healed Cory.

The Menace had somehow walked over to me without a sound. He knelt down and let his finger turn into a claw. “If you want to save her, you have to give her your blood, Carver. Are you willing to do that?”

“Do it,” I told him.

He sliced a huge gash down my arm. Blood erupted, and so did some of my fire. I told my fire not to harm her. The boy slowly backed up as my fire floated in the air around Sid and I.

I let the blood drop down to her lips. It wasn’t seconds before her eyes opened, shining winter-white. In a frenzy, she grabbed my arm and pulled it to her mouth. I expected it to hurt worse than it did. I expected I was going to want to throw up, knowing what I was doing, but the feeling didn’t come. Instead I was mesmerized, watching her new skin solidify over he new face and body.

Sid threw me back as her eyes darkened back to their natural color, “You idiot! You can’t feed me fresh blood!” She was pissed, the ungrateful chick.

Unrepentant, “You were dying.”

She wipes the blood from her face. She closes her eyes and starts shaking. “Get out,” she growls. Her fangs elongating.

My fire floats over to her. She opens her eyes as the little red beads fall on her like rain. Her skin soaks them up without any harm done. I have no idea what my fire is doing. I stand up next to the Menace. We watch as she begins spasming on the ground.

I try calling to my fire, but it isn’t listening so I rush to her side. Her eyes switch from winter-white, to amber, then to my Carver-blue. I grab her wrists to stop her from moving and to pull my fire directly from her.

Finally, the red beads came out her mouth and she fell limp. The fire took its place in my skin and I wait. This time, when I touch her neck, I feel a pulse.

She slapped my hand lightly, “I’m fine Shane. Stop pawing me.” She opened her eyes that were not glowing and sat up. Then she smiled from ear to ear, “That’s pretty intense.”

“What is?” The Menace behind me asked. I can hear the curiosity in his tone. He isn’t disgusted, he is seriously curious.