“No, you don’t,” I said. “You’re not getting away.”
There was a sentience behind Bigfoot that was far more than animalistic. He wasn’t evil, per se, but he was chaos incarnate, and he didn’t have a conscience. If he was hungry, he killed to eat. If he wanted something, he took it. If he was sad, he would weep. He was unconcerned by human societal rules and focused only on his needs. The perfect narcissist.
I gathered the winds even tighter and the vortex became a whirling drill.
“Again…” I whispered, pointing at the creature.
The vortex was howling now, drowning out Bigfoot’s shrieks. I directed the twister to knock him off his feet, and when he fell, I brought the point of the vortex down on his center—right on his chest. It drilled a hole right through him, splitting him in two. The next moment, I let go of the storm and it dissipated as though it had never been.
I stared at the mess and then, feeling incredibly strong and powerful, shrugged and turned around. “And that, takes care of that.”
Orik cautiously touched my shoulder. “Kyann? It’s time to come back.”
I glanced up at him, holding his gaze. “I never left,” I said, but the next moment, the shift vanished and I felt like my normal self.
Orik shivered, but continued to hold my arm.
Bigfoot was slowly beginning to fade, probably back to his own dimension. When some of these creatures who visited our world died, or decided to leave, they had a natural ability to phase back to their own realm.
Before he could vanish, I reached down and pried open his mouth, taking hold of one of his fangs and yanking it out. Fangs were easier to break than regular teeth—they were longer and had more leverage. I pocketed it, then watched him fade away. The only thing left to show he’d existed was the fang in my pocket, the destruction of the trees around us, and his image ingrained in our memories.
Duran came creeping out from the stand of nearby bushes. He was pale and shaken. “I was so afraid he was going to find me,” he said. “What happened to him? I saw you wail on his ass,” he added. “I didn’t know you were a witch,” he said, staring at me.
“I’m not,” I answered. “I’m part demon. Working with the wind and storms seems to be part of my demonic heritage. But I’ll tell you, I never thought that creating a whirlwind would be part of my repertoire.” I turned to Orik. “You okay?”
Orik nodded. “Did you know your eyes turn jet black when you’re working with your demonic powers? I mean, completely—whites, irises, all black.”
“Yeah, I actually do. I can feel the shift when it happens. It’s no longer about bringing out my inner demon anymore. It’s about unleashing the powers that are now always part of me.” I turned, looking for Dante. He came over, limping, still in wolf form. The gash was nasty, and—worried—I knelt down to examine him.
“He needs help,” I said. “We need to get him to a healer. He’s staying in wolf form because he has more resilience in his animal form, and he heals faster. Help him into the van, please.” I turned to Duran. “Come with us, if you would.”
We returned to the van and Duran sat next to Dante, who had curled up and fallen asleep. I gently stroked his head and gave him a kiss as he shifted, moving his head to lay it in my lap.
“It’s okay, boy. We’re going to get you some help. Just rest until we get there.” I rested my hand on his head, smoothing his fur. It was hard to see friends hurt, and it felt even harder when they were in animal form.
There was an urgent care clinic for shifters nearby, so we pulled into the parking lot and Orik picked up Dante before Dante could climb out of the van, carrying him in. I followed, leaving Duran in the van, instructing him to stay put and keep the doors shut.
The receptionist looked up. “May I help you?”
“Dante’s hurt. He’s a wolf shifter, and he’s been injured.” I pointed to the gashes on his hindquarters.
“What hit him?” she asked, calling for another nurse. After that, she came around the desk to assess him. “He’s not going to die, but this needs attended to.”
“Bigfoot.” I waited.
She raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “We’ve actually had several patients come in, injured while they were out in their natural form. I’ve already alerted the cops and they’re hunting for him, but they didn’t want to trigger a citywide panic.”
“Well, you can let them know that he’s…” I paused, wondering what she would say if I told her he was dead. “He’s gone.”
“Right,” was all she said. “All right, let’s get him back into one of the exam rooms.”
We started to follow her into the back, but instead, she pointed to a gurney. “Lay him on that and we’ll take it from here.” And with that, we were banished into the waiting room.
CHAPTER TEN
An hour later, the doctor came out and released Dante to us. He was back in human form, doped up, and had seven stitches on his left hip. He was walking, but we wheeled him to the car in a wheelchair so that he wouldn’t fall.
“Somebody’s going to need to take him home,” I said. “He’s not capable of driving in this state. And preferably stay with him for the afternoon. I’ll call Carson and see if he can.”
