Blood Moon (Vampire Vigilante 1)

She cocked an eyebrow, her gaze flitting up and down my body. “Oh, and why is that? Because I’m Black?”

“What? No. Not even what I was thinking about. You’re really young. Like, really young. I was expecting someone a lot older. Witch, you know.”

I looked to the others. The peaks of Asher’s cheeks were flushed. “I mean, I hate to perpetuate the stereotype, but same. I’m sorry for assuming.”

The witch folded her arms, then scoffed. “Please. Witches come in all shapes and sizes. Ages, too. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I couldn’t pop your heads off your necks as easily as a bunch of wine corks.” She snapped her fingers at us. Roth flinched with every click, expecting to explode.

“Duly noted,” Gil said. “I guess we thought that someone who considered herself an ancient guardian of the forest would be – you know what, I’ll drop it. Better question. You’re being very forthright about your witch status. I would’ve thought you’d be upholding the veil, same as the rest of us.”

She sniffed, examining her nails, which were painted emerald green. “I know what you are. I won’t say what you are, but I know. But anyway, even if you were a bunch of regular humans, do you think anyone would believe me? I get a flock of dumb kids rolling up here at least once a week. You tell them you’re a witch and everyone just thinks you’re the crazy lady who lives up in the woods.”

“Fine, lady,” I said. “So we’ve confirmed that you’re a witch. What’s up with these killings? They’re happening awfully close to your territory, aren’t they?”

Her eyes narrowed, her beads tinkling as she shook her head. “Don’t ask questions you won’t accept the answers to.”

I stepped forward, my hand on the doorframe. “The fetishes, the bundles of twigs. What are they for? Why are they always at the scene of the crime? Are you the killer?”

“No more questions. Smoke bomb!”

Too late I noticed the glass sphere in her hand, a translucent egg filled with swirling smoke. She smashed it against the ground, thin glass clinking as it shattered and released huge gouts of choking smoke. I covered my mouth, my eyes already stinging. The door to the cabin slammed shut.

“Bramble wall.”

The witch dropped something in the grass, a felt bag. Its strings came undone, spilling seeds onto the ground. The earth surged as a low hedge of thorny brambles sprang out of the dirt. I backpedaled, pushing Asher away as I went, trusting Gil and Roth to defend themselves.

“Smoke form,” the witch cried out.

“What is this, a video game?” I turned to the others. “Am I nuts? Why is she calling out her spells?”

The witch answered by giving me the finger. She crushed an egg in her hands, her entire body horribly collapsing in the same way, splintering into jagged shards. The pieces of her hovered as they disintegrated into cloudy wisps of smoke, then drifted away into the wind.

“What the fuck just happened? Are witches supposed to be that fast?”

From somewhere along the breeze came a distant voice.

“Kiss my ass, I’m a ninja witch.”

I turned to the others. “There is no such thing. What the fuck?”

Gil shoved Roth in the chest. “This is your powerful witch of the woods? I feel like I’ve been pranked.”

Inflamed, Roth shoved back, which was honestly kind of a surprise. Gil’s eyes went wide, too, impressed, and maybe a little offended that he was fighting back.

“It’s not my fault she’s a ninja witch,” Roth said.

“There is no such thing,” I shouted.

Asher, who up until then had been rubbing his chin and staring through the smudged windows, finally spoke up, snapping his fingers.

“Smoke witch. That’s her deal. We got lucky she didn’t do more damage. I bet that fireplace has been going for decades now. It explains the smoke, the brambles, the bundles of twigs. It’s all kindling to her.” He pointed at me. “Better be careful next time we run into her. Pretty sure she’s good with fire magic, too. It’s the halfway point between wood and smoke. You should probably avoid smoking so much, too.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering. “How do you mean? What, is she gonna give me a citation for starting a fire in the woods?”

“Very cute, smart ass. No. You saw what she did back there. Turned herself into gas, literally a cloud of smoke. What’s to stop her from taking control of a puff of your cigarette smoke and using it to choke you out from the inside? Hell, what if she becomes a puff of smoke, enters your respiratory tract, then reverts back to her physical body? Could you imagine the bloody mess of – ”

“Enough,” I said, my skin crawling. “Point taken, cripes. Enough already. I’ll stop smoking cigarettes around people who can kill me.”

“Ninja witches,” Roth corrected helpfully.