Sixty Two. Death by French Kiss
A piercing, long howl splits the night, seeming to echo my need and desperation. It’s not just any wolf. I can feel it in my bones. “Jase.” The full moon may have turned him into a wolf the second the sun set, but his will remains unwavering. Now he’s out here, searching for me, even though I should be dead by the time he reaches this clearing.
Proteus wanted to drive the knife down into my chest the second he heard me breathe that name. I know he did. But the second that commanding call of a lone wolf’s howl echoed through these woods, Proteus was not the one in control anymore. Mike froze up the second he heard that cry. Now all the demon inside of him seems capable of doing is snarling in disgust, staring outraged at the hand of his meat puppet, as the fingers pull back into claw-tipped paws incapable of keeping hold of the ritual knife. It tumbles to the dirt, and Mike turns into a full on dog, dropping to all fours, lifting his nose to the full moon beaming down on him and howling out in desperate, instinctive answer to that ongoing call. It's not just the cry of his little brother compelling him. It is an undefiable order from the leader of the pack to which Mike will always be most loyal -- his family.
“How?!” Ravenna shrieks, reaching out toward the black wolf, only to have him full on snap at her, growling up at her with hackles raised, as the demon rips free of his back in an angry swarm of mist. “You are mine to command! And I do not command you to change! You shall turn back to human, right now, and remain the willing vessel of Proteus--”
Mike cuts her off with another slavering bark, and all Cassandra’s muddy memories flood my brain, filling me with sudden understanding. “He’s not your thrall anymore Ravenna. He’s just like all the others, a slave to the full moon.”
“What do you mean? He is mine, and he will always be mine, so just what have you done!” she accuses.
“I did nothing,” I rebuff, “but whether it be made with thrall or familiar, a contract is a promise. You promised to cure his family, Ravenna. You said it outright, and he promised in exchange that he would serve you. Now you’ve betrayed the terms of that deal--”
“Because we do not need his compliance!” Proteus insists, forcing his way right back inside the witch. “We command you easily, no matter your pitiful resistance to it!” they condescend to Mike. “Now heel!” He does so, dropping right to his belly with head ducked between his paws, but yellow eyes still burning with resentment. “And be turned back to flesh!”
Nothing happens with that command, and I give a knowing grin. “You can’t turn him back now without fully curing the curse,” I inform them. “Magic is a cosmic force, immutable in its rules. A familiar can take whatever shape they please through illusion, but you broke your contract with Mike. He is not your thrall anymore. And the more you work to force his obedience, the more you emphasize this other change.”
“What other change?”
“From alpha to dog on a leash. You made him that way, Ravenna, the second you restricted his free will. The only true alpha now…”
Is Jase, already ripping into this clearing at an all-out sprint, a beautiful streak of silver fur and eyes of burning blue.
“Kill him!” possessed Ravenna snaps at Mike, and he lunges helplessly to attack, only to back off with a whine, the second the white wolf and he lock eyes.
I can’t help but smile all the wider at the sight, and Ravenna quickly snatches up the ritual knife. “This is your magic! You! You’re doing this,” she madly accuses, stalking right up to me.
“I’m really not.”
“You have no shred of power compared to me!” the black-eyed witch thunders in her unsettling, dual voice. “Those dogs will sit there powerless, as I order, and watch as I rip out your heart--”
Nope. Because you didn’t bother to lash my legs to this tree, you bastard, and stepping right up to me again I have the presence of mind to kick your current borderline anorexic host right in the stomach, knocking out her breath, and leaving her incapable of snapping out that will-corrupting command to heel.
Ravenna stumbles back from me with a gasp, knife dropping from her hand and right into my own fumbling, outstretched grip. Jase takes advantage of the vulnerability in an instant and lunges forward in a blur of speed, leaping right at Ravenna’s throat with jaws clamping down.
Her scream quickly turns to desperate gurgles, and the inky smoke of Proteus starts to peel away from her body, reaching out to start winding around the white wolf ontop of him. Jase opens his jaws and tries to dart away, but he has no power to fight off an ancient demon. Proteus will be ripping away at his soul already, just seconds from devouring it and possessing him.
I slice through the ropes binding my wrist and chest with one quick cut (this knife is scary sharp, y'all) and drive the omega-marked blade right down into Ravenna’s chest. “Bind this spirit to one form and one flesh, and restore unto me what was stolen!” I echo the same chant Ravenna used to stop me shifting, and the disgusting ooze of Proteus instantly snaps back from Jase and floods back inside his bleeding servant.
Her mouth gapes open, and I lean down to lock lips. Most heavy spellwork requires some exchange of bodily fluid alright? It was either I French her or I start drinking from her neck wound. Proteus moans, a sound of angry pleasure, because he knows what I’m doing right now, but the sicko still enjoys the taste of me regardless. I drink in that flood of sparks, a mind-melting tidal wave of ancient knowledge and power. Then I throw off Ravenna’s clutching hands yanking at my hair and trying to keep my face pinned in proximity with her demon. The wound on her throat is already healing, even without Proteus’s extra power, so I raise my hand over her chest, eyes burning with violet flame as I chant, “Selene, light in the darkness and true queen of the Night, reveal this flesh for what it is, just as you do for all who walk through your domain. Strip away all illusion and leave her bound like that, unchanging.”
Ravenna’s eyes widen in horror, and she tries desperately to force out a counter spell and chant. Luckily, her vocal chords are not even close to healed enough for her to speak yet, and seconds later, it’s too late. Her skin wrinkles and sags, hair turning white, and eyes clouding over with cataract. She shivers and thrashes, but the rapid aging continues until the hair falls out entirely and she’s nothing but a skeletal mummy, frozen stiff on the ground since her muscles have all rotted away, leaving her no way to even move. Her throat has fully healed by this point, but her lips have shriveled and pulled so far back from her teeth that the only sound she can form is another desperate moan.
“Stay inside of her, Proteus,” I command. “Don’t you dare leave her alone. You can’t. You are both of you going to be buried in the earth, trapped alone in the dark, never to harm another soul.”
“You think you’ve won this night, Cassandra?” Proteus’s deep unsettling voice echoes all around me. I suppose he can never be silenced, even stuck tethered to this living mummy. “You have not. You will never be free of me. I will haunt your dreams forever, until you come running back to my embrace. I am the only thing in existence that can love you as you deserve. Whore yourself out to the mortals all you wish, but they will always wind up seeing you for the monster that you are.” He shifts his eyes to the white wolf crouched back at the edge of the clearing with hackles raised, staring transfixed at the horrifying remains of Ravenna Bellamy. “Watch him run from you, and watch him hate you when you bind him in place to make him stay. I will be watching Cassandra, and I will enjoy every minute of it.”
His chilling laughter echoes through the clearing, and I know deep down that he’s right. I may have won against Ravenna, but in showing my true power, my true self, I’ve lost the only thing I ever loved.
He won’t love me again, unless I use these freshly remembered spells to wipe his memory, or bind him to me, or both, or…
No. That white wolf is going to go racing off into the woods, and I am going to have to be strong enough to sit here stoic and let him go, even if that means wiping my own memory again.
I told you earlier that this was a love story and not a tragedy. I still want that to be true. But I guess in the end, I can’t stop it from being both.