I felt sick, and sick at heart, and tired of losing those whom I loved. I couldn’t even take comfort in the other two because they thought I had slaughtered their companion.
“Reach out to them,” Beezle urged. “You have a connection with them. It’s how you brought them to heel in the first place.”
He was right. The shapeshifter had already taken one of the dogs from me. Why should I let him take the other two?
I stepped closer, even though this caused both dogs to increase their growling. I lowered to the ground, holding my hands out. Lock barked at me, his hackles raised. The dogs were only a few feet from me, their eyes glowing red. It reminded me that these were not ordinary dogs, that the memory of their life as Retrievers was still inside them, and so was their power.
“It’s me,” I said, and I sent out a breath of magic to touch them, so that they would know it was me, really me.
At the first brush of power they stopped growling. I felt their confusion, their sense that I was the person they loved and trusted, but there was Another, and that Other smelled the same and looked the same but then did a bad thing, such a bad thing, and when they saw it they were confused, and then the other changed to something else and went away, and they should have stopped the other but it looked like her, it smelled like her, and now here she was again, so was it her, or was it the other? It feels like her, it smells like her, but we don’t know . . .
“It’s me,” I repeated, and sent my magic around them, wanting them to know, to understand I could never hurt them that way. I could never be that way.
Memories flashed through them, the shapeshifter calling to them, luring them outside. The doors were opened to them, the shapeshifter standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling, looking like me, seeming like me.
That was not me. This is me. I pushed harder with my magic, to make them feel that connection that had bound us in the first place. Lock whined in his throat. Barrel lowered his body to the ground and rested his head on his paws. It is you.
I scooted closer to them. Barrel put his head on what was left of my lap. Lock licked my face.
“Let’s go inside, boys,” I said, attempting to stand.
Beezle snorted with laughter as I fell back on my bottom. Nathaniel helped me to my feet, brushing grass from my suit. It seemed like a pointless gesture since I was still covered in goop from the fight with Alerian’s monster.
“I will tend to this,” he said, jerking his head at the tree.
Beezle, the dogs and I went back up the stairs. Samiel stood in the kitchen doorway holding a spatula and looking confused.
What happened? Everyone disappeared all of a sudden and nobody said anything to me.
“Sorry,” I said. “It just sort of happened.”
I’d never really thought about what a disadvantage it was for Samiel to be deaf. He seemed so strong and capable, but all three of us could rush past him, and if his back was turned, he would never know. And even though his battle instincts were pretty accurate, it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him and slit his throat, especially if he was somewhere he felt comfortable. Like, say, the kitchen.
I paused on the threshold, cursing as I realized what kind of danger we were all in now.
What now? Samiel signed.
“The doors. Somehow the shapeshifter was able to unlock and open the doors from the outside,” I said.
Beezle whistled. “That’s some magic. To be able to overcome the safety of the domicile—I’ve never heard of anything like it before.”
“The shifter wasn’t able to come inside, though. I saw in the dogs’ memories that it had to lure them outside. As you know very well, though, there are plenty of creatures that can cross the threshold of a home without a spoken invitation.”
“Great,” Beezle said. “We need to check for infestations.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And bugs, video cameras, things like that.”
“Thinking of Jack Dabrowski?” Beezle asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “If he came back here and the door was open, he would not be able to help himself. He’d have planted some kind of recording device.”
The front windows were open, and the sound of emergency personnel in the street drifted up. Several male voices cursed, and I could hear the familiar click, beep and static of two-way radios. As if on cue the front doorbell rang.
“That would be the police.” I sighed. “I might as well go downstairs and deal with them now. They’re only going to come back later if I don’t.”
“You can’t go down there now,” Beezle said. “You never made it to the shower, remember?”
As soon as he said that, I was aware of how terrible I smelled. I looked down at my clothes, saw the blood and the smoke stains, imagined my hair and face looked a horror. Beezle was right. There was no way I could go downstairs and pretend not to know what happened outside.
“What about Nathaniel?” I asked. “He’s out back, and he’s just as much of a mess as I am. Plus, he’s cleaning up the remains of a dog massacre. That won’t look suspicious or anything.”
The police have no reason to go into the yard, Samiel said.
“Sure they do,” I said. “If any witness says they saw me fighting Alerian’s monster and we don’t answer the door, then the cops will feel free to poke around. And there’s no gate in the walkway that leads back there—which means they could probably justify wandering around the property.”