Tiger Tails (Bewitching Bedlam) Page 4

  “I’m cold, but I managed to conjure up a little fire. It died quickly, but I had it going long enough to warm my hands. I’m in a big pine tree, about eight feet up on the lower branch. But I feel like something’s out here with me. Come soon!” Jenna stifled tears—I could hear them in the back of her throat.

  “We’ll be there, honey. Hang on.”

  “Okay.” She hung up like I told her to.

  I stuffed my phone in my pocket. “Let’s go. Lead the way.”

  Max shifted off the trail, plunging through the undergrowth. We were immediately knee-deep in soft snow, with a secondary, compact layer below that. Paulson’s Peak was a popular winter sporting area, and with good reason.

  As we trundled along, I thought of all the ways I was going to have my revenge on Hanover, the least of which was burying him in the ground and pouring honey on his head and letting a hungry bear loose.

  We wove through the undergrowth, stumbling more than once. First Max went down, dragging me with him, and then another hundred yards and I fell, taking him down as well. Both times, we quietly picked ourselves up, dusted off, and set back to forging our way through the massive ferns and brambles that never fully lost their leaves.

  Another half hour and Max suddenly stopped, holding up his hand. A wary look crossed his face, and he edged toward one of the nearby cedars, motioning for me to follow. We huddled beneath the branches. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he was being so quiet that I decided it was best to follow suit.

  Then, he reached down and unhooked himself from the rope, holding his finger to his lips. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a text to me.

  I sense something around here—it’s malign, whatever it is, and it’s hungry. And it’s watching us.

  I really didn’t want to see that. I typed back, Do you think it can hear us? Is that why we’re texting and not talking?

  He nodded. I’m going to try to skirt around to see if I can find out what it is. You stay here and keep alert. If you need me, scream as loud as you can.

  I huddled against the tree, praying that whatever it was, it hadn’t spied Jenna. We were getting close to her position, as far as I could tell by the Friend-Finder app. I slid my phone back in my pocket and focused on weaving a protection spell. I envisioned her, sitting in the tree, surrounded by a globe of golden light. I worked the magic, pulling it this way and that, shoring it up to create a globe of protection that would require a battering ram to break through. I was good at protection spells, especially when the need was there.

  As I whispered the incantation, Max began to traipse off to the left, skirting the clearing we had been standing in, clinging to the trunks of the trees. A moment later, he vanished into the undergrowth and, even though I knew he wasn’t that far away, I wanted to scream “Come back, don’t go.”

  “Get a hold of your nerves, woman,” I whispered to myself, returning my focus to the spell. “Jenna needs you.”

  As the energy began to break away from my hands, I realized the spell had taken, and I let it go, freeing it so that it could fly to her. Another moment, and it was on its way, and I leaned back against the trunk of the tree again.

  What could be out there? What had Max sensed? The woods out here on Bedlam Island often harbored goblins and their ilk, or ghosts, or other beasties who didn’t have our best interests in mind. But there was one other creature who—if we were facing him—was more frightening than all the others put together. Sasquatch.

  Sasquatch was an alien. Not as in from another country, illegally slipped through the border alien, but as in from another dimension alien. He had come over to this realm centuries past, and had settled primarily in the Pacific Northwest, though his kind could also be found in other parts of the country, and high in the mountains of Tibet, roaming in camouflage as the yeti.

  So many people were concerned with his well-being, but what most humans didn’t know, but the Pretcom community knew, was that Sasquatch was a devil in disguise. He was a meat eater when he could find it, and he wasn’t concerned with where that meat came from. Volatile and chaotic, Bigfoot—as he was commonly known—had the ability to walk between the worlds and so he eluded contact. Yet, every time hikers disappeared, or when cattle came up mysteriously slaughtered, nobody thought to look his way. Add to that, Sasquatch was on average eight feet tall and weight over half a ton, and he made for a lethal enemy.

  Please, please don’t be Sasquatch, I thought. But he could summon storms and hide behind them, I knew that much.

  Another minute and my intuition hit me hard. Alarm bells clanging up a storm, I knew I had to get to Jenna. She was in grave danger and I couldn’t wait for Max to return. I considered calling to him, but that would tip off whatever was out there. With a deep breath, I began skirting the trees in the opposite direction until I reached the other side of the clearing and then, without another word, I plunged into the overgrowth, heading toward Jenna’s location.

  Chapter 5

  THE LOCATION ON the Friend-Finder App didn’t specify that Jenna would be across a ravine. I was hurrying through the undergrowth when I pushed through a pair of huckleberry bushes to find myself teetering on the edge of a deep crevice. A stream flowed at the bottom, which must have been a good fifty feet down a steep slope covered with snow.

  “Crap,” I whispered. The sensation of being watched hadn’t let up, and I was now afraid to return to the clearing because whatever was out here was behind me and probably stalking me by now. My only hope was that Max was, in turn, stalking it.

  I had begun to edge my way over the embankment when I lost my footing and went sliding down the hill, then rolling, forming one gigantic snowball along the way. I let out a shout as I rolled over a sharp rock, and tried to slow myself down, but by then I had picked up far too much momentum and went tumbling into the stream as I hit the bottom. Luckily, the water had iced over. Unluckily, I body-slammed it and the ice shattered, and I ended up sitting in the creek, so startled that I could barely breathe.

  A noise from up above on the slope shook me out of my paralysis. A dark figure, tall and looming, began traipsing down the slope after me.

  Crap. Sasquatch. I forced myself to my feet, and—sopping wet and weighed down by the soggy clothing—I stumbled across the stream, breaking and crashing through the ice. Luckily for me, the water was at a low ebb, which meant it didn’t try to sweep me along downstream.

  Where the hell is Max?

  But I didn’t have time to dwell on where he was. I managed to cross the streambed and shuffled my way up the embankment to dry ground. I was standing at the bottom of the opposite side of the ravine. I knew that Jenna wasn’t that far over the top, but I couldn’t very well lead Sasquatch to her. I had to throw him off her scent.

  I waved at him, screaming at the top of my lungs, then took off down the streambed, hoping to find a clearing leading into a lower part of the forest so I wouldn’t have to struggle uphill while trying to keep ahead of the creature.

  He let out a roar that echoed through the forest, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the most inhuman sound I had ever heard. My pulse racing, I slip-slided my way through the snow, along the rocky shore, praying that I could lead him far enough away so that Max could save Jenna.

  Bigfoot was definitely interested in me, that much was for sure. He landed at the bottom of the stream and was about to ford it. I glanced around, looking for a way to keep him following me but still remain out of his reach. Jenna had climbed a tree. I wondered if Bigfoot could climb trees. Then I decided he probably could, so I looked for another way out.

  There, up ahead, was a hole in the side of the slope. A den of some sort. The entrance was big enough for me to squeeze into but not big enough for my buddy, who was making a racket as he edged closer. I decided if there was a bear in the den, I’d be better off facing it than Sasquatch, so I dove toward the hole, landing half in, half out. Scrambling to my hands and knees, I plunged inside, praying that
whoever might be home, would welcome company.

  “Make room for me, cuz I’m coming in,” I belted out as I crawled to the end of the tunnel and fell through into a bigger cavern.

  The cave wasn’t huge—probably the size of a small truck, but it was definitely bigger than the entrance. I felt for my flashlight, managing to find it in my back pocket. I turned it on and—hoping there weren’t any bats to be startled—flashed it around to see just where I had landed.

  I was in a cave which reminded me very much of a nest. In fact, there was a pile of rags, feathers, and what looked like wood shavings on the ground, built into a cushion. I wasn’t too keen about finding out if anything was sleeping in it, but the nest alone told me I probably wasn’t going to be encountering a bear.

  Listening nervously at the exit, I tried to gauge whether Sasquatch had caught up. I heard grunts, and realized that he had. There was a pounding on the dirt outside, and I heard him huffing away. He was trying to claw his way in. While I doubted that he could, I also realized that it would be easy enough for him to trap me inside.

  “Sss...”

  The sound behind me freaked me out, but I managed to keep from screaming. I slowly turned toward the nest in the middle of the floor. A very large snake was rising out of it. I knew it wasn’t a rattler, but otherwise had no clue what kind of a snake it might be. We didn’t have poisonous snakes in western Washington, but if this were a magical creature, all bets were off.

  The snake rose up like a cobra in front of a snake charmer, then backed away. I cringed, thinking it might be coiling to strike, when it dove back into the nest. There was a muffled noise, and then the nest shifted, and out of the mess, a very handsome man with gleaming brown skin, and luminous eyes stood up. His hair was close shaved, and he looked a lot like an efreet. But efreeti were akin to the Jinns, and most of them preferred fiery lands and hot weather.

  “Hello...” I decided to get introductions out of the way.

  The man gave me a long once over, then looked toward the tunnel leading out. Understanding gleamed in his eye. “You were being followed by the ape-man?”

  “Ape man, Sasquatch, Bigfoot...call him whatever you like, he’s out there and he’s hungry.” I cleared my throat, not mentioning Jenna. A number of creatures like the Jinn would think of nothing about carrying off a thirteen year old girl as treasure.

  “Ah....so you hid in my lair, trying to escape.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to avoid saying the wrong thing. “That’s about the size of it.”

  “You want me to take care of him for you?”

  I paused. I knew all too well from Bubba, Maddy’s cjinn—all cat, part djinn—that Jinn wishes came with a price, and that price usually involved twisting the request in any way, shape, or form that amused the Jinn.

  “Thanks, I’ll be all right if I can just rest here for a little bit. Thank you, anyway.”

  He stared at me, eyes gleaming. “Pretty woman.”

  “Umm...hmmm, thanks.” I eased myself back toward the tunnel leading out. I didn’t like the flickering gaze in the efreet’s eyes—and by now I was certain I was facing an efreet. It was too covetous, too calculating.

  “Stay and talk? I’m lonely.” He was winningly pathetic, in the way a con man might coax Miss Lonely Hearts to go out on a date even though she knew nothing about him.

  I shook my head. “Thanks but my...boyfriend...he’s waiting for me.” Sometimes the Jinn would back down if you mentioned a boyfriend. Most of them were caught up in a massive whirl of gender roles and expectations, and mentioning that I “belonged” to another man might just get him to let me go without harm. Of course, I’d be coming out face-to-face with Bigfoot, but if I could duck past, I might be able to outrun him.

  “Rest, I insist.” The efreet moved closer, and I could smell the faint wisps of charcoal wafting off his skin. Yeah, from the plane of Fire all right.

  “Thanks but no thanks.” I turned and dove back into the tunnel, crawling as quickly as I could. I dreaded coming face to face with Sasquatch but at least I wouldn’t have to outthink him like I would the efreet. Just outrun him.

  “Sandy, you really got yourself mired in a quandary this time. What the hell are you going to do?” But I had no answers as I reached the other end of the tunnel.

  From here, I could see Bigfoot, he was standing outside, staring at the hole confused and looking irritated. The last thing I needed was an angry ape-man after me, as the efreet had so succinctly named him.

  But there, behind Sasquatch, a tiger loomed up. He was running now, straight for Bigfoot. Max. It had to be Max. I glanced behind me to see the efreet peeking down the tunnel. Before I could do anything—either way—Bigfoot saw Max and raced off, crashing through the forest.

  “Max!” I scrambled out of the tunnel, falling into the snow in front of it. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw the efreet. He had stopped at the entrance.

  “Why don’t you ask me to come out so I can help you?” His voice was oh-so-silken.

  I frowned. “If you wanted out, I doubt if you need my invitation—oh!” It hit me then. That’s why he was being so slick, offering me favors. “You’re stuck, aren’t you? Somebody locked you in. The genie in the bottle...or cave, rather.”

  He grimaced, giving up the pretense. “You got me. I can’t get out unless someone asks me for a wish. And so far, you’re the first one to stumble over me in fifty years. Just one wish—give me the chance to fulfill a wish and I’ll be gone and never look back.”

  I would rather have rubbed Bubba’s belly than ask an efreet for a favor. While I wasn’t generally one to vote for locking people up, efreeti were dangerous and their favors never came easy. Besides, I didn’t have time to dilly dally. Max was tangling with Bigfoot, Jenna was stuck in a tree, and I just wanted the day done.

  “I don’t think so. Besides, my friend’s off tangling with Bigfoot right now.”

  “I could help...” Again, the silken whisper.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t want your help.”

  He let out a sigh. “It’s lonely here.”

  “Enough!” I had no patience for whining. “Fine. Here’s my wish: I wish you would come out of the tunnel and go back to your realm without bothering me or anybody I know. You’re free—go on. Scoot.”

  He laughed, then with a whoosh, appeared before me. “Clever woman. All right, I’m feeling magnanimous, so I’ll head back to my realm. But...I’ll remember your favor to me, and someday, when the mood strikes, I’ll grant you a real wish. One you will thank me for.” And with that, he vanished, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

  I tensed, but nothing happened. The efreet was gone and there didn’t seem to be any fallout. I turned back to the woods where Bigfoot and Max had vanished. The trail was eerily silent and I realized that Max might be in very real trouble.

  “Max? Max? Are you there?”

  I cautiously moved forward in the direction that I thought they had went. But then I stopped. I wouldn’t be any use against Bigfoot and in the lull, I might be able to get to Jenna. I turned back to the trail. Pulling my phone out, I brought up the Friend-Finder App and there she was, about a quarter of a mile away.

  I clawed my way up the side of the ravine, slipping on the snow and bruising my nose when I fell forward onto a rock, face-first. I wiped my nose and grimaced when my glove came away bloody. Lovely, I was going to have a delightful contusion there.

  By the time I reached the top, I had to use my flashlight to see my way through the undergrowth. The storm had brought with it dark clouds and the snow fell silently, almost sleeting down. Grateful for the goggles, I found a tissue in my pocket and stuck it up my nose to stanch the bleeding, then plunged into the undergrowth.

  Ten minutes later, I began calling out for Jenna. On my third call, I heard a faint cry.

  “Aunt Sandy?”

  I rushed forward, flashing the light around. “Jenna? Jenna? Where are y
ou? I hear you!”

  “I’m up here—be careful! There’s a—”

  Before she could finish, I tripped, screaming as something sharp clenched around my ankle, piercing right through the boots.

  “Oh mother-pus-bucket, what the hell?” I struggled to sit up, shining the light on my leg. A damned rabbit trap. Hunting wasn’t allowed on Bedlam, given the number of shifters here, so whoever had set out this trap had done so illegally.

  “Are you okay?” Jenna was huddling on one of the lower branches, shivering. She swung down, gingerly dropping out of the tree, and knelt by my side. “Should I try to get the trap off?”

  “Honey, I don’t want you hurting yourself. Let me see what I can...crap, that hurts.” I tried to focus on the trap, to remember how to call the spirit of metal so I could command it to open, but my thoughts were so laced with the pain that I was having trouble focusing.

  Jenna, took my flashlight and shone it down at my ankle. She dug around in the snow till she found the peg holding the trap steady and pulled. At least I wasn’t anchored to the ground anymore. “Are you alone?”

  “No, but the man who came with me is off chasing Bigfoot, who was headed toward you.”

  I winced, leaning forward to look at my ankle. It was broken—no doubt about that, and the jaws of the trap had firmly settled into my boot and in the flesh beneath the leather. At least it hadn’t been a bear trap, which would have been much bigger and more deadly.

  “Honey, listen to me. I’m going to tell you how to get out of here. I’d call the ranger, but they’re a bunch of blooming idiots down there.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.” Jenna was shivering in earnest now. She was a slight girl, with pale blond hair and a naturally thin build. And her coat was soaked from the day’s exposure.

  “Here.” I motioned to my backpack. “Help me get this off.”

  She removed it for me, and I opened it up, pulling out one of the thermal ponchos and the third pair of goggles. “Put on the poncho and the goggles. The wrap will help hold in your body heat.”