“You’ve got to call 911. Tim and me, we’re FBI. Special agents. He needs help.”
Something swelled against her mind, like the atmospheric pressure against her ears from that tornado that barely missed the house when she was a kid. She felt… odd. As if she was a long way from her body. Like she was drugged. Drunk or… Did someone slip me LSD? When? How? I felt fine. Gas leak? Carbon monoxide? I need to get up. I need to call 911. Tim. Oh, God, Tim… Reality tore. She felt it go as a hole in the air opened just past the Elf’s shoulder. The wavering oval blocked her view of a torn Quaker State oil poster. “What?” The word sounded slurred. Her belly was beginning to hurt again, fire building beneath healed skin.
A pair of white people walked through the oval. The man was tall, broad-shouldered and dark-haired, while the woman with him was a head or so shorter, with brilliant copper hair that fell in curls around her shoulders. Unlike the Elf, they were dressed in ordinary jeans and T-shirts. Not the kind of people you’d expect to see walk out of holes in the fucking air.
“Damn!” the woman said, looking around in surprised revulsion. “The hell happened here?”
“Call 911, please… Please?” Helena heard herself begging like a child. “Something’s wrong with me. I think I’m hallucinating. And Tim…” She turned her head.
He lay on his side with his back to her, his jacket flipped up, revealing his pale blue shirt. Blood pooled around his body. There was something about the way he lay that was just wrong. Helena had seen a lot of murder victims. She was looking at one now. Oh, God, Tim…
The dark-haired man crouched beside her. Black eyes met hers. “What’s your name? Mine is Bill Justice.” He indicated the redhead. “This is my wife, Miranda.” He pointed at the Elf. “And that’s Maeve.”
“Special agent… Special agent Helena Baker.” Helena took a deep breath. “Listen to me, you’ve got to call 911. We’re FBI. My partner was murdered. It was the murder of a federal agent. If you don’t call the cops, you could be charged as an accessory.”
Miranda looked up, gaze sharpening. “I hear sirens. The police are on the way. Somebody must’ve heard the screaming.”
Even as Helena’s heart leapt in relief, Maeve said, “Then I will send them away.” She made a casual gesture of one elegant hand.
“No!” Helena cried out, her voice ragged with despair.
“You don’t want them here yet,” Miranda told her kindly. “Not until we’re finished.”
“With what?” What the hell nightmare was this? What am I going to tell Tim’s wife? But as she stared up at the three, an icy thought pierced her confusion. I won’t have to tell her anything, because they’re going to kill me.
“Helena, listen to me,” Justice said, his black eyes boring into hers. “You are about to become a werewolf.”
She stared up at him, confused. The pain in her belly was intensifying, though the skin was whole and unbroken. “What?”
“Janson infected you. The pain you feel is Merlin’s Curse taking hold.”
These people are crazy. “What are you talking about? Listen to me. I am an FBI agent. Janson murdered my partner…”
“Yes, Janson was a criminal werewolf, and he bit you,” the redhead told her, enunciating carefully, as if she were a little slow. “That means very shortly, you’re going to transform.”
“No.” This wasn’t real. None of it. Because if it was, she’d be dying. “I…”
“Look at him,” Justice snapped, pointing at the bloody decapitated head she’d been trying to ignore. It was obviously a wolf’s -- if the wolf in question was the size of a grizzly bear. “That’s a werewolf. You know it can’t be anything else. He bit you, Helena. Now, one of two things is going to happen. Either you’re going to call on your magic and transform, or the Curse will incinerate you.”
Magic? I don’t have magic. These people are cr…
But there was something there. Rushing closer. Blazing and powerful, roiling like a thunderstorm. Helena could almost smell the lightning. When she closed her eyes, she saw it blazing in the dark, growing brighter and hotter with every moment that passed. “What is that?”
“Ahh,” Maeve said with satisfaction. “She’s feeling it.”
“What you feel is the magic of the Mageverse,” Justice said. “Your magic. You need to draw on it to transform. Like this.” He rose to his feet. Light flared around him, and where he’d stood, a huge black