Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

Gareth strode boldly up to the ogres and they stopped fighting and bent down to listen to him. Whatever he said made them laugh, causing another ripple of sound and movement to flow through the crowd. Gareth stepped back a few paces, drew his sword, and balanced on the balls of his feet. The ogres began to circle him, making quick feints with their weapons to judge their opponent. Millicent could hear the crowd calling out wagers.

“I ain’t watchin’ that boy die again,” muttered Nell.

Millicent whined, torn between protecting Nell, and joining Gareth in his battle. Oh, she had no doubt her knight could handle a few ogres. But he would continue to challenge any comers until he fell, trying to buy them time until Bran managed to get here. Gareth had taken the first opportunity for escape, knowing Millicent had already waited too long to free Nell, and now it might cost him great pain.

A sudden burst of light and heat made Millicent jump back, slam into the bumpy stone wall of the gateway. She blinked at the roiling ball of fire that had once been her Nell, and blinked again when the explosion settled into licks of flame surrounding a magnificent bird. Millicent had seen Nell take her were-shape only a few times, and the sight still awed her. Brilliant red feathers burned with orange flame, and an elegant tail draped behind her like the train of a ball gown. Nell’s were-creature took on a bulk of four times her size, just as Millicent grew larger in her were-shape. The old woman’s appearance now matched her personality.

That graceful yellow beak opened and spat a stream of liquid fire, which spread down the roadway like an uncurling carpet of blazing fury.

Gareth had the distraction they needed. As one, the crowd of guards turned to stare back at the castle and its now-blazing gateway. The ogres took advantage of the knight’s inattention, and closed on Gareth. Millicent could swear she saw the knight’s white teeth flash in a grin as he cut the knees out from under the two Goliaths in quick succession.

Selena’s black eyes glittered with shock, and then fear, as she stared at what once had been a harmless old lady. Then she shifted to bat and took wing.

Millicent waited for the flames in the road to die before she leaped forward, confident Nell could now fend for herself. As she had feared, several more fighters attacked Gareth, stepping over the ogres’ fallen bodies to get to him.

Her knight moved with such grace and beauty he appeared to be dancing. His sword emitted quick flashes of silver in the muted beams of the fairylights on the cavern ceiling. His hair flowed around his face like a swirling river of gold, and his feet moved so quickly he often appeared to be flying a few inches above the ground.

He was simply the most beautiful thing Millicent had ever seen. And she did not want to watch him die again. She did not want to see that lithe body broken and bleeding, his handsome face white with pain.

She screamed, her cry of challenge echoing off the cavern walls, and plunged into the crowd of fighters now challenging Gareth. Millicent guarded the knight’s back, used her claws to slash at her assailants, only her long reach and speed saving her from getting sliced by a sword time and again. She heard an occasional shot ring out, but they fought too closely for the guards to avoid hitting their own people with a bullet, and few were foolish enough to try it.

A flash of red streaked from above, and a stream of Nell’s fire sent more than one monster running for their lives. Nell appeared to be concentrating on the guards who stood outside their fighting circle, careful that her lethal flame would not accidentally fall on Millicent or Gareth.

Millicent’s world narrowed down to the awareness of Gareth at her back, the next monstrous attacker to loom before her to be cut down, and the pile of fallen guards at her feet, which managed to at least slow down the next creature before it attacked.

Despite her were-strength, Millicent began to tire. She marveled at Gareth’s endurance, for he had nothing but his human abilities to draw on.

“We cannot hold them off much longer,” gasped Gareth from behind her. “Run, now, Millicent. Take ladybird out of here before—”

A creature with an enormous bald head, bulging eyes, and tentacles for hair tried to get past Gareth’s guard. Her knight lunged forward, struck quickly, and danced back again. At the same time, a volley of shots rang out, and Millicent glanced up.

A ball of fire twirled to the ground, landing with a flurry of sparks.

Millicent screamed; leaped in the direction that fallen star had landed. Some of the creatures were smart, and got out of her way. Some, she tore through. Nell had been taken down by one of their bullets, despite the distance the firebird had maintained above them, nearly touching the cavern ceiling. Despite the horrible aim of pistols, and how few of them held silver bullets. She should have taken Nell out of here. She should not have allowed the old woman to fight. Of course they would use their guns on her—and it took only one lucky shot. How could she have been so stupid? So careless with her friend’s life?

She could hear Gareth fighting behind her, trying to follow. But she had no thought but to reach Nell.

A black shape swooped above her. Selena. She had forgotten about the were-bat. Where had the sly girl been hiding? For despite the love potion, she had not gone to Gareth’s rescue.

A large creature loomed in front of her. Some twisted combination of shape-shifter and human, with horns sprouting from a broad forehead, the blunt nose of a swine, the claws of… a cat. Claws as large as her own. Millicent launched into the air, aiming for the thing’s throat. The creature went down beneath her, already dead before it hit the ground.

She looked up in surprise. An enormous bear stood beside her, his claws bloody and his mouth open in a grimace of teeth, the closest Bran could get to a smile in were-form.

The cavalry had arrived.

Millicent grunted her thanks and leaped forward again, leaving Bran to face another one of Ghoulston’s minions. She must get to Nell. Surely, she had to be close. The ball of fire had fallen…

A ring of blackened bodies surrounded an open space, the earth scorched a dusty gray. At first, Millicent could not understand what she saw. A bundle of black wings covered the upper part of a small old woman lying on the ground. Nell had shifted back to her human form, a natural reaction to a loss of consciousness. Or a loss of life? Her legs lay twisted at an odd angle, her skirts charred about the edges.

Millicent screamed yet again, her throat aching with the sound.

The were-bat glanced up, wings pulling away from their shroud around Nell. Selena’s pointed teeth dripped with red, red blood.

That red color grew in Millicent’s gaze until it lay like a shadow over her eyes. She stalked forward, every muscle quivering, every inch of fur on her body bristling with fury.

Selena sat frozen, fear clouding her eyes.

Millicent glanced down. Perhaps a bullet had killed Nell before she hit the ground. Perhaps the fall had killed her. She would never know. Selena had finished whatever life Nell might have had left. The were-bat had always lusted after the firebird’s blood, as if it held some special flavor that could not be found on any other human or shifter. Even with all the dead and dying bodies surrounding them that Selena could have drank from, she had gone after Nell.

Millicent had not realized until this moment how much the vamp truly hated her.

And had not realized she could ever be capable of returning such hatred.

Millicent leaped, landing on Selena’s wings, which she had curled over her head for protection. But nothing could stop Millicent. Not Gareth’s shout from behind her. Not her reluctance to kill if she didn’t have to.

Selena had taken her Nell. The only person she had ever cared for. The nature of the beast always lurking within Millicent—even in human form—took over and she did not even try to control it. She struck blindly, mindlessly ripping and tearing with teeth and claw. Snarling and growling in unchecked fury. The were-bat tried to fight back. Then tried to run. She left half a wing behind to break free, but managed only two steps before Millicent fell upon her again.

Nothing but red. Nothing but the feel of skin and muscle shredding beneath her claws. Screams and then whimpers.

And then the hated thing beneath her lay still. And she heard the voice of her mate. Calling. Commanding.

Millicent spun. The cat recognized the scent of her mate. It soothed the beast until she could regain some control once more.

Millicent shifted to human and ignored the remains of her cat’s fury, and focused her gaze on Gareth. The red haze slowly cleared.

He looked… stunned. “Millicent?”

She tried to wipe her hands on her bodice, but so much blood thickened the cloth she only spread the gore around. “This is what I am. A beast. A creature of the Underground, born in blackness with a soul to match. You! I am not like you, Gareth. I am not some valiant white knight full of honor and vows of chivalry—”

“Millicent.” He took a step forward.

She growled. “Do not come any closer. You are responsible for all of this. I should have left you with Ghoulston and taken my Nell away from this place. But no, you influenced us all with your grand ideas of interfering in matters better left alone. What do I care of the world above? When has it cared for me?”

She tore her gaze from his and settled it on Nell. White, broken. Dead. “I have lost her because of you.”

He made some strangled noise, had the audacity to take a step closer to her. But the small bundle of woman that had been Nell suddenly began to smoke, then to burn. Licks of orange fire cradled her face and body, as it did when she took her were-form. Those flames grew taller, until a column of orange-red fire grew upward, nearly touching the cavern ceiling. Silver tinged those flames. Silver and gold.

Millicent had not noticed the sounds of fighting until they suddenly stopped. Until she could hear the crackle of flames in the silence. The heat from that cyclone of fire made her step back again and again. She shielded her eyes with her arm, glanced away to see that Bran and his gang had managed to conquer the duke’s army of guards. Most of the creatures left standing were shape-shifters.

With a roar of sound that rocked the cavern, the flame gave one last pulse, a flow of liquid fire curling and twisting up through that column, then quickly falling back to earth, winking out of existence as suddenly as Nell’s life had been extinguished, leaving nothing of the old woman but a small pile of silver ashes.

Millicent shifted back to panther and lifted her head, hiding within her beast, allowing the cat to scream her anguish until her throat grew raw, until she could scream no more.

Gareth strode over to the small silver pile of Nell’s ashes and collapsed to his knees, his head bowed, his shoulders hunched. He laid his hands around the ashes, as if he sought to cradle old Nell once more.

Millicent caught her breath on a sob, turned, and ran.

Gareth materialized in a dark room no larger than a water closet, with a tarp for a ceiling and worn wooden planks for flooring. He could hear muted laughter coming from beyond the rickety door. The occasional clink of glasses and the sour smell of ale told him he stood within Bran’s tavern, where Millicent worked. A dark shadow in the corner of the room stirred, and he turned toward the panther curled up on a pallet of old rags.

Millicent.

She had kept to her were-shape. He wondered if she always slept in her beast’s form, and had stayed human when they slept together only because of him. With drunken louts only a few feet away, perhaps she felt safer with tooth and claw at the ready.

Or perhaps the events of last eve had allowed her beast to completely take over her humanity.

Gareth still felt a sharp sense of loss at the death of ladybird, so he could only imagine what Millicent might be feeling. She professed to be incapable of great love, yet if he could manage to make her love him half as much as she had loved her Nell, he would be a lucky man… which might now be an impossible task, since she blamed him for ladybird’s death.

His eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and he could make out the glossy sheen of the panther’s coat, the powerful grace of leg and shoulder, the beauty of those slanted eyes, long lashes closed in sleep. Ah, how he loved his Millicent and her beast. But would she ever be able to accept his love enough to return it? For he had thought he only had to capture her heart. He hadn’t realized until yesterday that his obstacles might be insurmountable.