CHAPTER FOUR: CLAWS AND SPELLS
1687 Words
Greta’s pulse thundered as Anthony’s fangs glinted in the moonlight streaming through the shattered door. The vampire stood framed by splintered wood, his black leather coat billowing, flanked by two snarling werecats in fur form.
The main room of Dayne’s cottage reeked of smoke and blood, the fireplace’s dying embers casting jagged shadows across the oak bookshelves. Jaden’s scream still echoed outside, cut off by a guttural roar. Greta’s claws itched to extend, her golden eyes flashing as she backed toward Dayne.
“Stay behind me,” Dayne growled, his hand glowing with a pulsing red spell. “This is about to get messy.”
“Messy?” Anthony laughed, stepping over the wreckage, his blue eyes locked on Greta. “Oh, kitten, it’s going to be delicious. Your blood’s worth more than this sorcerer’s wards.”
“Touch her, and you’re ash,” Dayne said, his voice cold as steel. He flicked his wrist, and a blast of energy slammed into Anthony, who dodged with unnatural speed, his grin widening.
“Feisty,” Anthony purred, circling them. The werecats prowled closer, their fur bristling. “Simon sends his regards, by the way. He’s very upset that you stole his sacrifice.”
Greta’s stomach lurched. “I’m not his anything,” she snapped, her voice steadier than she felt. “Tell him to come get me himself.”
Dayne shot her a look. “Don’t taunt the vampire. It’s not helping.”
Anthony chuckled, fangs gleaming. “I like her spirit. Shame it won’t last.” He lunged, faster than Greta’s eyes could track, but Dayne was faster, chanting sharply. A shimmering barrier flared, knocking Anthony back into a bookshelf. Books crashed to the floor, pages fluttering like wounded birds.
“Greta, upstairs!” Dayne shouted, shoving her toward the hallway. “Lock yourself in the guest room!”
“No way,” she said, planting her feet. “I’m not hiding while you fight my battles.”
“Stubborn fool,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of respect in his gray eyes. He turned to the werecats, who leaped, claws slashing. Dayne’s spell caught one mid-air, pinning it to the wall with a crackle of energy. The other barreled toward Greta.
She shifted instinctively, her black fur sleek as she sprang onto the table, dodging the swipe. Her claws raked the werecat’s flank, drawing a yowl. “Back off!” she hissed, human words garbled in her feline throat.
Anthony clapped, amused. “A fighter! Simon didn’t mention that.” He darted forward, grabbing for her, but Dayne’s next spell sent him sprawling, his coat smoldering.
“Enough games,” Dayne said, his voice low and dangerous. He pulled a silver dagger from his belt, its blade etched with runes. “Get out, or I start carving.”
Anthony’s eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, a new figure stumbled through the doorway Jaden, blood streaking her face, her hands glowing faintly green. “They’re coming,” she gasped. “Simon’s witches. They broke the outer wards completely.”
Greta shifted back, human again, her jeans and shirt clinging to her sweat-damp skin. “Jaden! Are you okay?”
“No time,” Jaden said, clutching her side. “Dayne, we need to combine our magic. It’s the only way to hold them off.”
Dayne’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the dagger. “You think I’d trust you after last time? You’re lucky I didn’t blast you outside.”
“I’m here for Greta,” Jaden shot back, her eyes blazing. “Not you. Hate me later, help me now.”
Greta stepped between them, her heart racing. “Stop it, both of you! If Simon’s coming, we need to work together. Dayne, she’s my grandmother. She’s not lying.”
“Grandmother?” Anthony’s laugh cut through the tension. “This just gets better. Family drama and a sacrifice? I should’ve brought popcorn.”
“Shut up,” Greta snapped, her claws extending again. “Why are you even here? Simon’s lapdog now?”
Anthony’s grin faltered. “I’m no one’s dog, kitten. I want your blood for myself. Vampires could use a boost in this city.”
Dayne stepped forward, dagger raised. “You’re not getting near her. Last chance to leave.”
Anthony’s eyes flicked to the werecat still pinned to the wall, then to Jaden. “Fine. I’ll wait. Simon’s got bigger plans than your little light show.” He vanished in a blur, leaving the pinned werecat struggling.
Dayne released the spell, and the werecat collapsed, shifting back to human a young man, panting, eyes wide with fear. “Please,” he gasped. “Simon’ll kill me if I don’t bring her.”
“Then run,” Dayne said coldly. “And tell him I’m ready.”
The man scrambled out, leaving Greta staring at Jaden. “You’re really my grandmother?” she asked, voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jaden’s face softened, blood smearing her cheek. “I wanted to protect you. After your mother… I couldn’t lose you too. I stayed with Simon to keep him from suspecting.”
“Protect me by lying?” Greta’s voice rose. “You let me think you were my mom!”
“I had to,” Jaden said, stepping closer. “Simon would’ve found you sooner. I sent you here because Dayne’s the only one strong enough to stop him.”
Dayne snorted, sheathing the dagger. “Flattery won’t erase thirty years of betrayal. But you’re right we need to move. Greta, upstairs. Jaden, you’re with me.”
“No,” Greta said, crossing her arms. “I’m staying. I can fight.”
“You can barely control your shifts,” Dayne said, his tone sharp but his eyes softening. “You’re a liability.”
“She’s not,” Jaden cut in. “Her powers are waking. I felt it outside. She’s stronger than you think.”
Greta’s eyes widened. “Stronger? I scratched a werecat. That’s it.”
“It’s more than that,” Jaden said. “Your blood’s not just potent, it's amplifying magic around you. Dayne’s words are holding because of you.”
Dayne’s gaze snapped to Greta, calculating. “Is that true? You felt the wards link to you?”
Greta nodded, uneasy. “Yeah. It was… warm. Like I was part of them.”
He cursed under his breath. “That complicates things. Your blood’s too valuable. Simon won’t stop.”
“Then we stop him first,” Greta said, her voice firm despite the fear clawing her chest. “What’s your ritual, Dayne? Tell me now.”
He hesitated, then sighed. “It’s to bind Simon’s power, lock him in human form. Without his therian strength, he’s vulnerable. Your blood makes it possible but it’s risky. If it backfires, we’re all dead.”
Greta swallowed hard. “Then don’t let it backfire.”
Jaden touched her arm, her hand trembling. “Greta, I’ll help with the ritual. My magic’s not what it was, but I can channel it through you.”
Dayne’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not touching my spellwork. You’ve done enough damage.”
“Damage?” Jaden snapped. “I saved your life back then, Dayne. I distracted Simon so you could escape. You think I wanted to betray you?”
Greta’s head spun. “Wait, you saved him? Then why does he hate you?”
“Because I didn’t tell him,” Jaden said, her voice breaking. “I couldn’t. It would’ve endangered my daughter. I let him think I was the villain.”
Dayne’s face darkened, but he didn’t speak. The air crackled with tension, the wards humming faintly as if straining.
“Enough history,” Greta said, stepping forward. “We need to prepare. What do we do?”
Dayne pointed to the hallway. “Ritual room. Now. We’ll need more of your blood, and Jaden, you’ll reinforce the wards outside.”
Jaden nodded, heading for the door. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
As she disappeared, Greta followed Dayne downstairs, the stone walls closing in, torches casting eerie flickers. The ritual room felt heavier now, the cage in the corner more ominous. Dayne grabbed a vial and a book, his movements swift.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to the circle. “This time, I’m taking enough for the full ritual. It’ll hurt.”
“Do it,” Greta said, rolling up her sleeve. “But if you double-cross me, I’ll claw your eyes out.”
He smirked, pricking her arm. “Noted. Hold still.”
The needle stung, blood flowing into the vial. Greta felt the same warmth from before, stronger now, like her essence was merging with the room. “This feels weird,” she said, her voice tight.
“It’s your power,” Dayne said, mixing the blood with glowing herbs. “You’re waking up. Born-in-fur therians are rare for a reason.”
“Rare enough to die for?” she asked, wincing as he drew more.
“Rare enough to change everything,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. For a moment, something passed between them, trust, maybe, or something warmer. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.
“Focus,” he said, but his voice was softer. “We’ve got hours until midnight. If Jaden’s telling the truth, Simon’s bringing an army.”
“And if she’s not?” Greta asked, her stomach knotting.
“Then we’re f****d,” Dayne said bluntly. “But I’m betting on you.”
Before she could respond, a deafening crash shook the cottage. The wards flared, then dimmed, a scream tearing through the night Jaden’s, followed by a chorus of howls. Dayne dropped the vial, his face paling.
“They’re inside,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Run!”
But as they turned, a figure loomed in the doorway Simon, his blond hair tied back, eyes glowing with predatory hunger. “Going somewhere, Greta?” he said, his voice a low growl. “You’re mine now.”
- Writer
