I slowed my heart rate and let my muscles relax. I stretched out on the log, shivering. I sank deep inside, my consciousness falling away, remembering only the fetish tooth. The notes of a wood flute, soothing and mellow, like the one on the CD player in Aggie’s sweathouse, filled my memory. I smelled the cleansing herbs of a smudge stick, and I dropped deeper, into the dark within. The place of the change within me seemed bigger inside than I remembered, more hollow, a large cavern branching off into other dark places. It had a sense of far-flung echoes and the resonant plink of distant water.
As I had been taught so long ago, I sought the inner snake lying inside the tooth’s root, the coiled, curled snake deep in the cells, in the remains of the marrow, the DNA peculiar to all animals on earth. For my people, for skinwalkers, it had always simply been the inner snake.
I dropped down into it, like water flowing through the bayou, like gators swimming in long, swirling water-glides. Grayness enveloped me, sparkling and cold; the world fell away.
My breathing deepened. My bones slid. Skin rippled. Pain, like a scalpel, slid between muscle and bone. My spine bowed hard.
My nostrils widened, drawing deep. I gathered paws under me, ear tabs flicking, listening, scenting. World was bright with greens and grays and silvers, the colors of night to big-cat eyes. Clear and sharp. I yawned widely and chuffed. Jane had left steaks back at dead, not-dead Bitsa. Jane was tricky. Wanted me to take tooth back.
I stood and stretched through belly and spine, back legs and front legs, paws flexing into old wood of log. I shook, pelt moving over body, loose. Predators had sunk claws into pelt, and found no vital organs beneath, pelt sliding across instead. Beast had killed other predators who thought they would win. Foolish predators. Pack hunters.
I lifted tooth in teeth and trotted back through pine trees to road and bushes where Jane had hidden Bitsa from any thieves of Bitsa. Did not know why thieves would steal Bitsa. Could not eat Bitsa. No blood, no bone. I did not understand. I dropped Jane’s tooth on top of the pile of clothes and sank to ground beside cow meat. Sniffed. Meat smelled old and watery, not hot with blood and fresh with chase. I ate anyway. Cleaned up all blood with tongue and lay, belly to ground. Groomed mouth and paws, satisfied, listening to night. I heard something.
Tilted ears. Felt through ground on belly, heard through air. Stampstampstamp. Knew that sound. Stood slowly. Opened mouth and pulled in air over scent sacs in mouth, with long, soft screeeee of sound. Smell came on wind, strong. Big prey. Much good meat.
Beast? Jane said, waking in mind.
I didn’t answer. I padded into wind, testing, tasting, feeling vibrations with paw pads on ground. Big prey. I found good place to watch and leaped to tree limb hanging over narrow path to water. Good place to hunt. Ambush.
Stampstampstamp, fastfastfast. Running, trotting, big prey. Only one. But big.
Waited for prey to come, paws tight under belly. Eyes on path. Small hooves got closer.
What is that thing? Jane thought.
Huge black creature trotted into view. Boar. Big boar. Big teeth curling up from mouth. It raced under limb. Ambush!
Oh, crap, Jane thought. That thing has tusks. It has to weigh nearly a hundred pounds. You are not going t—
I leaped. Landed on boar’s back, claws gripping through coarse hair of stubby mane. Killing teeth biting down at base of skull. Found only hard fat and muscle. Boar stumbled with force of Beast, but did not fall. Screamed, pig scream. Started running. Raced through scrub, Beast on back. Branches hit Beast.
Beast bit down again and again, shaking hard, tearing flesh. Spurt of blood. Hot. Tasty. Boar bucked like horse, jumped high and twisted body. Beast held tight with claws in boar haunches and shoulders. Bit down again. Boar ran, fastfastfast through woods, screaming.
Boar ran under downed tree, resting across path. Log hit Beast in head. Ripped Beast off boar. I fell. Boar spun. Squeal changed to sound of anger. Boar attacked. Shaking head, Beast raced back along path and leaped high to stump of broken tree. Boar jumped. Teeth and tusks ripped at Beast’s paws and legs. Boar was too close. Beast was not able to leap or fall onto boar.
Boar stood up on hind legs and jumped high, tusks stabbing. Beast spun in midair, long stubby tail spinning. Killing teeth caught boar under chin. Deep in blood-rich flesh. Blood spurted over Beast. Hothothot. Good. Beast clamped down with jaws. Shook prey. Boar stopped squealing. Beast had boar’s air pipe in killing teeth. Crushed down. Crushing. Crushing. Boar could not breathe. Fell to knees. Hard. Pulled Beast off stump to ground. Beast stood over boar, could see tusks near face. Smell of old blood and old vegetable. Rotting human food from waste pile, grubs, and fungus. Pig food. Boar fell back, belly to sky. Beast followed, holding, killing teeth clamped tight. Claws hooked in boar belly. Time passed. Beast shook boar many times. Boar died.
Son of a . . . Jane breathed hard in back of mind, thoughts full of fear. You do know that if it ate you, there would be no way of coming back. I mean, it would have killed both of us.
Beast did not reply. Beast tore into boar stomach and ate. Good tasty bloody hot meat. Good pig-boar. Beast is good hunter.
Later, Beast cleaned boar blood off pelt and out of claws with rough tongue. Vampires are like boars. And like kits, I thought.
Yeah? How’s that? Jane thought, her fear gone, her thinking calm.
Bad vampires need to be killed. Have much blood. But vampires who are good are like kits. Need Jane.
Jane said nothing.
I stood and walked back to water, full belly heavy with meat. I drank at water’s edge and stared at water, holding night sky in surface. I thought about Jane. Thought about Leo. I see leash in den in mind. I see chain. Leash put onto Jane by Leo. Leash is not on Beast. I can break it.
Can you? Jane sounded happy.
I walked to dark thing that was Leo’s cage inside Jane. Extended claws. And swiped at chain of binding.
I found myself awake near the water, the sun’s rays just peeking over the horizon. I felt . . . incredible. Leo’s compulsion was nearly gone. I could still feel it, like a hard nut cocooned with spiderwebs in the back of my brain, but it was smaller, more compact, less diffuse. A couple more shifts, and it would be totally gone.
I reached up a hand to touch my neck, finding the gold nugget necklace I never took off. Unfortunately, the go-bag was gone. My clothes, my shoes, and my throwaway cell phone were no longer attached to me. The fight with the boar had ripped the go-bag off my neck. It was lost in the brush somewhere. I was a long way from Bitsa and my clothes, which meant I needed to find the gear.
I spent nearly an hour looking for the go-bag, and when I finally found it, it was covered in boar blood. I rinsed the flip-flops off in a nearby bayou, hoping that the morning was too cool to attract alligators, wiped off the throwaway cell, and tossed the rest of clothes into the water. Naked and cold, I walked back to the bike, dressed, and kick-started Bitsa, riding into the city. I stopped at a tiny French Quarter restaurant and had a huge breakfast starting with a stack of pancakes, six eggs over easy, and a rasher of bacon. I’d eaten here before and the waiters knew I was a big eater. I’d overheard them making bets on me. It might be bets about when I’d balloon up with the pounds, or bets about whether I’d order blueberry pancakes or harvest grain. Whatever they were betting on, I always got great service, my teacup was always full, and my syrup was always warm. I tossed three tens on the table when I was done and went home. I needed sleep.