Dreamwater by Thoma Chrystalla

Author:Thoma, Chrystalla [Thoma, Chrystalla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chrystalla Thoma
Published: 2011-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

THE WOLF GAME

First published in Lorelei Signal Magazine, October issue 2010

Mara slashed at her opponent’s throat, cutting deep, and watched with detachment as the young man’s head fell back. Blood sprayed. The body dropped on the cobbled street with a thud.

The last one.

Oppressive silence hung like a chain of stones around her neck. She bent over, panting, wisps of dark hair tickling her eyes.

Then she straightened, muscles aching. She slung the silver-edged scimitar across her back, and turned toward the gothic tower dominating the city of Siforis.

“Leaving, are we? Entertainment over so soon?”

She spun around, wary. In the flickering light of a lamp post, a red-haired man stood among the dead bodies, smiling broadly. Damn, she’d missed one. Probably a werefox, like the others. The slight distortion of his face, the bones moving under the skin, told her he was about to shift.

“What do you want?”

His black collar glittered with round, golden studs. “What I want? To see you die, shifter-huntress.”

“Do you, now?” She sighed. “Where in the five hells are your keepers tonight? Use the bond, summon him, or her. I promise I’ll let you walk away.” Truth was, she was tired. She hoped he might just leave.

He fingered his collar, long nails scraping on the metal studs, but stayed put. “We need no keepers.” He drew out the last word, made it sound filthy.

Oh great. Another rebellion? “Yes, you do. It’s the law.” The decrees had been for the shifters’ own protection. The human keepers made sure a shifter wouldn’t be mistreated or killed, especially after returning to human form with the temporary exhaustion the transformation brought. Of course, that’s what the ruling class, the undead, claimed. Truth was, the undead had wanted control over the shifters all along, and now they had it. And Mara helped maintain it — a tool wielded in a never-ending conflict.

“The deal your boss is about to sign is important, huntress. Do you even know what it’s about?”

“Sure.” She wasn’t going to admit she hadn’t been told.

“Then you know that tonight every shifter’s coming in alone. It’s war.”

Shit. “Says who? Did the werewolf king decreed war?” He ruled over all shifters, and led the resistance against the reign of the undead, like Riffa and herself. But surely he wasn’t about to plunge the world into more bloodshed. Was he?

She suddenly wasn’t so sure.

“Desperate times, desperate measures, huntress.”

She got no other warning. The man shifted as he jumped at her, claws coming out, muzzle lengthening, teeth glinting — a giant red fox.

Mara rolled, came up with scimitar in hand, and slashed the creature’s chest and belly, pressing the blade deep. A moment of struggle, his claws reaching for her flesh, his teeth for her throat — then she knelt and watched as he morphed back to human, gasping and spitting blood.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “told you to call your keeper.”

“You’ll fall when you least expect it,” wheezed the man, lips drawing back to reveal blood-flecked canines. Death already clouded his gaze. “Others are coming for your lady mistress, and you.

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