Molly walked in and dropped Cassy on my chest. “She needs burping,” Molly said. And walked out. Carefully, I sat up and adjusted the infant on my shoulder. Began patting Cassy’s back.
Kitssss, Beast thought.
“Yeah,” I murmured. And that warmth I had felt when Cassy looked at me began to spread. I was maybe, sorta, beginning to come back to life.
* * *
* * *
The blow caught me in the side. Another high on the outer thigh, safe places to hit someone if you didn’t want to maim them. But Eli shouldn’t have been able to hit me, not when he was holding back like he was. It sucked being sick. The pain was gone, thanks to the Anzu feather, but I wasn’t well. My speed and stamina hadn’t returned. I wasn’t cured. Yet, I added mentally. I wasn’t cured yet.
I circled my sparring partner, my toes gripping the mat. Trying to breathe deeply enough to fight without gasping or gagging.
Beast is better than puma or Jane. She sent me an image of me in half-form.
Half—I stopped and held up a hand to pause the match, trying to follow the glimmer of hope that—“My half-form may not be sick,” I whispered.
Eli danced back, his weight on the balls of his feet, his body carrying that bounce common among boxers. A little to the left, a little to the right, with each low jump. “Not many weapons you can fire with half-form fingers.” He wasn’t even breathing hard, his brain working as fast as his body.
“But I can totally do the shock-and-awe thing.” I grinned, showing teeth, a mean smile. “I’ll greet Shimon in half-form.”
Eli gave me his almost-there warrior smile, a little evil, a lot hard. “Your brother doesn’t know how to half-form. Old bloodsucker like Shimon, never been to this continent? Killed all the weres he ever saw, at first sight? Bet he’s never seen a Cherokee skinwalker in half-form. In fact . . .” He danced some more, thinking. “No one had until you figured it out. Yeah. Throw the bloodsucker off his game. So do it. Right now. Half-shift. Let’s see how fast you can make it.” He stood still and pulled his phone, started a timer. “Go.”
Beast?
My Beast moved through our shared mind. She pulled up the Gray Between, silver and gray mist like a sparkling cloud. And she ripped through it. The pain was instant and acute, as if she was slashing through my guts with her claws. I dropped to my knees. Bones cracked. Joints swelled. Fangs shoved up through my mandibles and down from my maxillas. Big honking fangs. My skull cracked like someone hit me with a handful of marbles. My shoulders shattered. My feet felt like grenades exploded inside them. I forgot how to breathe.
I came to on the sparring mat, lying facedown in a little pool of drool. “Well, that sucked,” I managed. It came out “Weeee ’at’shhhhu’ed.”
Showing no mercy, which made me delirious with delight, Eli bent over me and said, “Took too long.” His tone was casual, as if my pain was no biggie. I wanted to hit him, but I hurt too much to move just yet. “If you tried that in a fight he’d be tossing your head around like a bouncy ball.”
“Bouncy baw!” a child’s voice shouted. “I wanna pay baw!” I got my head turned to the sound and saw Little Evan standing in the doorway of the room, his fists clenched, his bare toes cute and stubby from this angle. He was the spitting image of his daddy, all bright-eyed and fiery-haired. His speech wasn’t quite perfect yet, the Ls there and gone. EJ rushed into the room as if to jump on me and came to a dead stop ten feet away, frozen at the sight of my face. His eyes went wide.
“It’s Aunt Jane,” I said, the words fang-mangled.
EJ took a slow step back. Froze again. Took another step back. He frowned mightily. Unballed his fists and pointed his fingers at me. Magic trembled in the air, a scalding/glacier tingle that shivered over my skin like—
“No the heck you don’t.” Eli swept EJ up into his arms and tossed him into the air. The magic vanished and EJ squealed in delight as Eli caught him and tossed him high again.
I rolled over and shoved my hair aside, analyzing what I’d just felt. The kid was already using magic, not something he should be able to do