Dora smiled as she walked by the greenhouse. It was here where Willow had taught her the art of the witch’s green thumb. She remembered the brief but significant lesson.
Willow had picked up a pot of a tall wilted plant. “Go on lass, touch the tomato plant and focus.”
It looked like a dead weed. Like most of the vegetable plants in the neglected greenhouse, this one was too far-gone. “Is there a spell for bringing it back to life?”
“Only a witch’s will is needed. Just like the time you brought back your neighbor’s rosemary bush and the spa’s dead bamboos.” Willow crinkled a smile and touched the hopelessly dead plant. “Observe.” She closed her eyes and hummed a soft tune. The little plant stiffened and its leaves turned bright green. “There you see.”
Dora’s eyes widened. “Amazing.”
However, it was a short-lived success. The plant vibrated, its leaves faded from green to yellow and then fell off. “Oh, dear. My magic failed.” She blew out a short breath. “Again.”
Dora gently squeezed her shoulder. “Trust me. Creating music out of air is the greater magic.”
“Thank you, dear.” She guided Dora’s hand to the stem of the wilted tomato plant. “Revive it.”
Dora nodded, closed her eyes and imagined the bright red tomatoes she bought from the weekly farmer’s market.
“Aha!”
Dora opened her eyes and gasped. A healthy green tomato plant bearing five large red tomatoes stood before her. “I did it.” She grabbed a tomato, shined it on her sleeve, and bit in. “Yum. Sweet.”
Willow beamed. “Each growing season, Aradia witches of old guaranteed farmers would have a healthy crop.”
Dora grabbed another and handed it to her. “Taste.”
Willow took it and placed it in her satchel. “I’ll add it to my stew.”
Dora’s thoughts turned dark. “Too bad I couldn’t surround Marla with poison oak when she tried to rip my throat out.”
“Well you could have, but for that, you would have needed plant material to transform it into the itchy plant. Unfortunately, even if there was such a plant around, werewolves are immune to poison oak. Wolfsbane would have been a better choice.”
Dora whispered, “It’s forbidden within a pack’s territory.”
“True enough.” Willow’s gaze turned to the rest of the sorry state of the other plants. “Please dear, bring the rest of the plants to life so we can dine on fresh vegetables.”
That night they cooked up fabulous vegetarian eggplant lasagna.
****
Dora couldn’t wait to see Willow again. The majority of their pack, including the ravens and Willow, was now within the safety of their new home near and around Yosemite National Park. She hoped John Muir was not turning over in his grave, knowing the national wonder would be the home for shifters. Talon had informed the Consortium they would be stewards of Yosemite rather than colonists. The five hundred shifters and humans would be less of an impact than the millions of tourists that once visited the park. The ecologically-minded shifters wished to keep the wilds protected for their animal totems. Eventually, the majority of humans would move from the park and occupy the nearby zombie-free zones.
Marti on the other hand left a few weeks ago. She decided to fly out to the Everglades with a mountain lion shifter named, Amber. The cat shifters preferred their own company and Marti, a cat person, jumped at the opportunity to go. She’d even come to terms with not returning to California to capture her big cats.
Dora looked forward to meeting Dirk’s sister, Sierra, in person. Though she had spoken to her via ham radio, it’d be nice to put a face to the voice. She was also anxious to continue her tutelage with her witch mentor. Willow had spent her entire life trying to learn from the
Aradia Witch Book of Shadows
but as the older witch had said numerous times, she was not powerful. Except for the gift of conjuring music, Willow bumbled most of her spells. Her lack of talent might have been what kept her safe from the Benandanti radar. That and her hidden living arrangements within the raven shifter rookery. Never married and according to Rave, a virgin. A fact Rave couldn’t quite get over, or at least understand why anyone would be celibate. None of that mattered. Willow was soft-spoken and kind. The classic Disney version of the type of grandmother she’d always wanted. She would walk through the dark wood to deliver fresh baked cookies kind of grandma. Just avoid talking to the big bad Benandanti wolf along the way.
Dora dashed to the main entrance where the last of the pack gathered for their departure. In the trunk of the Harley, she packed her spell book and laptop. She donned her motorcycle helmet and joined Dirk on the bike.
Behind the double iron fence, thousands of zombies moaned. Some shook the fence, many sniffed the air while others barked in rage, denied fresh flesh. Talon shouted above the din, “The back entrance is clear. If confronted, save your ammo and use swords and machetes. Use your rifles only under my command. Move!” He nodded at Dirk.
“Hang on babe, we’re leading the caravan.” They turned away from the agitated zombies and headed to the rear of the property.
“I hate to use my ‘I’m the valuable doctor card’, but don’t you think we should be in the middle of the bunch?”
He laughed. “No need to. You get to use the, ‘I’m the alpha’s mate card’. Nothing is going to touch you. Besides, the pack guards are already ahead scouting out zombie danger zones. Believe me, babe. I’m not going near them unless we’ve no other choice.”
“Well don’t think I’m taking flight at the first sign of danger. I’m not about to leave my mate in a zombie crisis either.”
“Humph.”
She gripped him tight about his waist as he zoomed out ahead of the others. They’d had this discussion last night. He ordered her to fly off to Yosemite if trouble arose. She refused his demand. Not that she was being brave but there was no way she would lose him. Though the shifters were superhuman, heck, she’d seen Dirk in battle mode, but even they couldn’t withstand a clash with thousands of zombies. The betas and omegas could only become werewolves on the full moon, and then, they only became massive bear-sized wolves rather than the alpha male Hollywood style werewolf. Though they were immune, the betas and omegas smelled human enough to attract hungry zombies. The alphas would protect the pack and so would she. If need be she’d use some new witchy maneuvers.
****
Before the zombie apocalypse, the drive would have normally taken six to eight hours. They’d been on the road for two days in order to avoid zombie swarms and in search of a fuel-carrying train, Falco had spotted last month. Along the road, they had not met any humans, not even the raiders who ransacked homes and businesses then sped away. On occasion, the caravan had to take back roads rather than going through towns that contained the scent of a swarm.
The jeeps ahead with the guards came to a stop. Dirk slowed the motorcycle. He sighed deeply. “I smell trouble.”
“Zombies?”
“That’s a given but with the stench of the Benandanti. About two miles ahead and directly in our path.”
Talon pulled his vehicle behind them and stepped out. He flared his nostrils. “The Hounds of God.” He growled and kicked dirt behind him, like a dog’s territorial behavior after hiding a bone. “Damn, we don’t have enough fuel to turn back.”
Dora sniffed. “I smell garlic and smoke.”
“Valeray must have set a garlic fire to confuse our nose. It’s strong but I can still smell their wet dog odor,” snapped Dirk.
“Must be a field of overgrown garlic laid to rot.” She glanced at Dirk. “Are werewolves allergic to garlic, or is that just vampires?”
Dirk shrugged. “I love it in pasta but the spice does cloud our sense of smell.” He gave her an incredulous look. “You know vampires are not real.”
She scoffed. “Of course they’re not. That would be as impossible as werewolves and zombies.” At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if the Tooth Fairy existed.
A high-pitched whistle blasted his eardrums. Dirk sank to his knees, lurched forward, pressing his hands to his ears. He and the other werewolves writhed in pain, while wailing and whimpering in a din of agony. Blood spilled out of his ear canals as the high frequency assault ripped through his brain like an explosion of glass shards. Then just as suddenly, the torture stopped.
Dirk lay sprawled on the ground and blinked. Dora knelt beside him, mouthing muffled words to him. He felt deaf as if a bomb had exploded on his lap. Pointing to his ear, he shook his head.
She entered his mind. “
Dirk, are you okay?
”
“Someone just blew a Kindred whistle.”
The pain, now just a residual twinge passed and Dirk sat, his world still spinning.
“A what?”
She helped him stand and balance.
Around him, with aid from the bird shifters, the other werewolves recovered their bearings. His ears still ringing, sound slowly returned. “It’s a weapon used by werewolf hunters to deaden our superior hearing. It usually lasts for a day, less if you’re an alpha.”
Dora raised her voice, “How well can you hear now?”
“About as well as humans and hawk shifters.”
Phoenix dusted off Talon and shrugged at her. “We raptors rely on our sense of sight.”
Talon narrowed his eyes toward the horizon. “Blasted Benandanti think they can hide their presence from us.”
Phoenix squeezed his arm. “Honey, I’ll check it out. It could be a Kindred trap, using captured Benandanti to confuse your scent.”
Talon drew her in and gave her a concerned look. “Be careful, love.”
They kissed with the passion of newlyweds. Mated for over twenty-five years. Dora wondered if she and Dirk’s love would stand the test of time.
Phoenix stepped back, flapped her arms and as a white goshawk flew to scout the enemy.
A guard asked Talon, “Sir, should we engage?”
Dirk, already partial werewolf with extended claws and fangs growled. “Yes!”
Talon shot him a fierce look. “Control yourself! Remember who the alpha is, nephew.” He bore his fangs and though shorter than Dirk, he still had a strong dominant presence.
Dirk bowed his head, wincing in an effort to control his seething rage. “They want Dora.”
“She’s a member of the Arbor Pack and we’ll all protect her, but maybe we should listen to what they have to say before we judge them as they would judge us.”
“Are you kidding?” Dirk asked. “Remember, they used silver and happen to be on our fucking territory.”
“A witch is not the only problem the Benandanti face. Millions of zombies roam the earth. The only way we’re going to take back the planet is with cooperation.”
The piercing scream of the white hawk drew their attention to the sky. Phoenix dove and landed on Talon’s outstretched arm. She leapt from him and before touching the ground, she shifted to her human form. “They are about a mile from the fuel trains.”
Dora bit her lower lip. “Maybe they just want the fuel?”
Phoenix shook her head. “No. They blocked the road with two huge eighteen-wheelers on each side of a long passenger train. Two helicopters are sitting on the road and behind the train, five trucks. Alpha Valeray with two dozen of his pack are waiting for us. And get this, I saw him holding the Kindred whistle.”
“Didn’t they hear the sound?” asked Dora.
“They wore their anti-frequency device plugs,” said Phoenix. “Werewolves who hunt the Kindred bring along a pair of AFDs, just in case. But amongst werewolf packs it’s not proper etiquette to use the whistle.”
Dirk scoffed. “Or use silver bullets.” He muttered, “Valeray is so dead.”
Talon scowled and talked in a calm controlled tone. “What weapons are they carrying?”
“Only swords. They’re in full Benandanti uniform,” explained Phoenix.
Dirk sneered. “Their holy crusader war costume.”
“They are outnumbered, twenty five to our forty. Maybe he just wants to talk,” said Phoenix.
Dirk’s reddened face matched his flaming hair, a sign he was going to change into raging wolf form. “No, he wants Dora!”
Talon furrowed his brow. “Enough!” He turned to his men. “If a peaceful solution cannot be agreed upon, we’ll kick some Benandanti ass.”
The pack cheered and everyone returned to their vehicles, anxious to meet the enemy.
Dora had hoped she would break the twenty-seventh birthday curse but once again, it struck. She mounted the bike and they all proceeded toward the blocked road. The field near the tracks had been set on fire and then snuffed out so only a plume of garlic smoke remained. It smelled as if they had fallen into a pot of spicy spaghetti sauce. Benandanti alpha, Valeray waited in front of the helicopters with his pack guards. Others leapt onto the top of the trains. They stood at attention, attired in their weird white Templar Knight tunics. How did they know they would be on this road? The pack’s territory was in the Great Lakes region.
A white-masked woman with a similar cloak and long red hair stepped into view. Dora gaped. “Looks like your ex, could that be Marla?”
Dirk narrowed his eyes at the masked woman and growled. “The traitorous bitch joined the Benandanti guards.”
Talon nodded. “That explains how they found us. Marla was part of the fuel reconnaissance team.”
The other masked woman next to Marla flashed her fangs. “What’s up with that?” asked Dora.
Without taking his eyes off his former lover, Dirk lowered his voice, “Women, who take the vows of the Benandanti hunters, wear a mask so they may kill.”
She didn’t understand the logic behind that but gazed back at the female werewolf who glared at her behind the white mask.
Valeray stepped closer and smirked at Dirk. “Your former girlfriend and rightful mate, Marla, informed us where the witch would be.”
Dirk snarled at Marla. “How can you betray the Arbor Wolves?”
She grinned, flashing long sharp fangs. “You’re the one who betrayed the treaty, lover boy.” She stood beside Valeray and glowered at Dora. “Hmm. What are you going to name your devil child? How about combining your names, Dirk and Dora. He can be Dork.”