Crap. At least the barbed parts are on the outside, facing away from me.

  Before the whole thing can close in around me, trapping me within the thick element, I drop to the ground, slashing above me as I do so, severing the head of the snake, so to speak. Golden gunk spills over me. It’s actually a kinda liquid plasma... until it dries up instantly.

  Freakin’ magic. Never know what to expect.

  Kingsley is closest, and I quickly cut through his ropes, freeing him, even as I dodge and slice more of the same coming at me.

  I move on to the closest of the two Bigfoot, who’s still somehow struggling against his glowing bounds. Then again, he is utterly massive. I cut them as well, freeing him. It grunts, tries to sit up, then decides against it for now. It lays back down, gasping for breath.

  As for the first Bigfoot—my friend from earlier—he’s not moving, though he’s breathing. He’s got to be close to death. I dodge another razor-bladed rope, sever it, then cut the four holding him bound. This one might be in trouble.

  With the three captives now free, I spend a considerable amount of time protecting them, slashing at the snapping, crackling lassos, keeping those life draining devices away from them as long as I can until help arrives.

  None too soon, it comes via a kinda sorta magical carpet. Actually, it’s a sort of floating walkway that both Allison and Tammy are running along above the forest floor. Okay, that’s a crazy image I may never get out of my head.

  They stop just outside the glowing barricade of ropes. Geez, this wizard and his damned ropes.

  Damned or not, we can’t get through, comes Tammy’s voice.

  It’s a calculated move. Will the wizard lash out at the three beasts (sorry, Kingsley), or will he try to stop me? And if he does try to rope the Sasquatches and Kingsley again, do each of the three still have enough life force inside to make it through? Hard to know. The first guy, maybe not. Kingsley should be okay.

  Like I said, a calculated risk.

  I leap into the air, black wings sprouting instantly. I turn toward the closest of the rope-like barriers—complete with interspersed barbs. Sheesh, now I know what cattle feels like. My gut tells me that the entire roped barrier is all connected. Meaning, sever one and it all disappears. Let’s hope so, because the closest section is opposite where Tammy and Allison wait.

  Speaking of which, you wait there, young lady.

  Yeah, I’m good, ma. I can read minds. Not throw fireballs.

  Fat lot of good those did me.

  My daughter actually chuckles as I zip through the air.

  Luckily, I’m racing faster than the guy can keep up his attack. The lassos fall behind me, and, mercifully, he hasn’t tried to recapture his three depleted victims. As I close in on the fence-like barrier, something slams into me.

  Something... gelatinous.

  Whatever it is, it mucks up my wings and I fall like a rock. Except, I still have a lot of momentum going, and, as I fall, I find myself heading straight for my initial target: the golden rope barrier. Except now I’m out of control.

  Knowing this is going to hurt, I hold my goo-covered sword out before me and slash down hard. Two things happen at once: a massive, fiery explosion erupts all around me, and I manage to tuck my shoulder into a roll.

  Until I roll into something hard.

  Lying there in a heap, I lay my head back and listen to a series of explosions, crackles and pops, interspersed with grunts and screams, both male and female. With the barrier now down, it sounds to me like Allie is in the midst of the fight of her life.

  I want to help, but I’m gonna need a minute.

  After all, I’m pretty sure I broke my collarbone.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  No, the landing wasn’t as smooth as I’d hoped.

  Yes, I did tuck and roll, but I also slammed into a fallen log, breaking my collarbone. Already I can feel it healing, but broken bones need about ten minutes, sometimes more, sometimes less. When I finally stand, I can see some serious fireworks going on in the trees beyond.

  Did you stay put, young lady?

  Oh, hell yeah, ma. This guy is good and more experienced than Allison, but she’s a little more clever in her use of magic.

  Oh?

  Yeah, she just conjured a legit-looking, fire breathing dragon. It’s got this guy running in circles. Oh, no!

  What?

  Something’s happening to the team leader, Terrance.

  Last I checked, he was standing there looking out into space.

  Yeah, his brain had shut down, a command given to him by whoever’s controlling him.

  Why would he command his brain to shut down?

  That’s the part I’m still trying to figure out. But something’s happening to him.

  Happening how?

  He’s walking in circles and sort of pulling at his hair.

  Is he fighting it?

  He’s fighting something. Hang on, the command is rising to the surface. Like, it’s coming from deep in the subconscious to the conscious, if that makes sense.

  Makes enough sense to me.

  Mom. Crap. It wants him to kill himself.

  Why?

  I don’t know! He doesn’t know, either. Mom, he has a knife. He just pulled it from his pocket. How fast can you get over there?

  I’m already running through the woods. Not at full speed, but pretty close. The collarbone is a little more important than I realized; after all, with each arm movement, pain zings through me all over again. Grunting, I go as fast as I can.

  Is Kingsley cognizant?

  Almost. He’s on his hands and knees—oh wow, that’s a lot of naked man.

  Don’t look at him!

  Kinda hard not to, ma. But no, he can’t help. Head’s still foggy.

  Allison?

  No can do. The wizard created his own dragon. They’re kind of having a magical dragon face-off.

  I growl as I run. I’m still covered in goop. My wings are, too. So much so I can’t even return them to wherever it is they go. Probably another interdimensional pouch, though bigger.

  Mom! He’s holding the knife to his throat.

  Can you override the command?

  I’m trying, but I don’t have the ability to command people to do things. I can only read their minds—I’m begging him not to do this. Shit.

  What?

  There’s another voice in there. It’s laughing at me. Telling me I’m cute for trying. But it has to do be done this way.

  Why? What way?

  This guy Terrance, I’m being told, is acting as an anchor of sorts. There is a lot of dark magic involved here, ma. But the gist of it is this: unlike you, the vampire behind this whole operation can’t teleport. To arrive at a particular location, on command, he needs an anchor.

  But why is he making Terrance kill himself?

  Black magic, ma. A blood sacrifice is needed to open the doorway. The vampire is close by, sort of like at the door of an interdimensional hallway, just waiting to come in. He can see and hear everything.

  I finish moving through the underbrush, holding my still-mending collarbone, and step into the crazy clearing. There, I see a red dragon and a gold dragon fighting each other. The red appears controlled by Allison and spits a more powerful, all-consuming fire. The gold dragon is a bit smaller and less detailed—likely because the wizard conjured it on the spot, rather than having practiced much with it, as I suspect Allison has.

  And where the hell does one practice summoning a holographic dragon?

  With the witch and wizard squaring off, effectively nullifying each other at the moment, I turn my attention to the one Sasquatch sitting up and shaking his head. Okay, he seems like he will be fine. Next to him, Kingsley stands on wobbly legs. Again, fine. It’s the second Sasquatch that’s still lying unmoving that I’m concerned about.

  Oh, and Terrance at the far end of the clearing, holding a knife to his throat. Normally, I would teleport to his side and remove the knife. Or take to my dark wings and zip over to him. Or command him to put the blade down—except he’s a little too far away for the command to be strong enough to override the original prompt for him to end his life.

  I’m about to take off running to him, when I see it’s too late. Weeping and shaking violently, he slashes violently across his throat.

  As blood gushes from the wound and spills down his chest onto the forest floor, something rises up from said forest floor. Like an elevator from hell, some sort of doorway appears. Not a doorway, a portal opening... and out steps a man.

  I don’t recognize him, but that’s not very surprising. I know only a handful of vamps, many of whom I’ve killed.

  He raises his face to the sky, seems to assess the brightness level. It is, after all, late afternoon. Thanks to the heavy cloud cover, the sun hasn’t made an appearance all day, and what light there is barely filters through the tangle of branches above. Indeed, the forest floor gives the appearance of twilight or dusk.

  Apparently, this is good enough for the vamp... and yeah, even from here, I can see he’s wearing sunscreen. God, I’m glad those days are behind me.

  Now, it’s time I introduce myself.

  And dang... poor Terrance.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Not exactly how we drew it up,” says the man to himself, though loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

  Definitely a vampire. No aura, and his thoughts are hidden from me. He tugs at the sleeves of his suit. Yes, suit. Who the hell wears a suit into the forest? For one, a vampire who obviously just stepped out of the comfort of his home, or castle, or wherever the hell this creep lives. Anyway, the guy is devilishly good looking in a Jared Leto sort of way, which, for some reason, irritates me. Not the Jared Leto part. The good-looking part. He’s immortal, obviously rich, and good looking. He has it all.

  Then why be so damn greedy? So destructive?

  He’s bored, ma, says Tammy in my head. He’s been around since the beginning—though he had a falling out with Elizabeth long ago and sort of formed his own vampire coven, if that’s what they’re called.

  Sounds right to me. Wait, are there more of them coming?

  And just as I ask, more men appear through the wavering, flickering portal. Seven in total, all dressed as nice or nicer than Leto the vampire. All are relatively handsome and fit, though there is a smallish one with a bit of pudginess around the middle. That said, he might be the best looking of them all.

  Be careful, ma. These guys intend to kill everyone here, Bigfoots included.

  Will do. And just as I think this, Allison’s massive, holographic red dragon lunges forward... blasting through the golden dragon with a torrent of fire, dispersing it. Next, the red dragon promptly chomps down on the dumpy wizard. Of course, it’s only a holographic image, so...

  Wait. Never mind.

  The dragon’s magical teeth cut clean through the guy, biting him in half. The creature throws its head up and swallows the upper part of the man down its see-through gullet. But, again... holographic.

  In a display of gruesomeness that I doubt anyone here will not soon forget, I watch as the top half of the man tumbles down the non-existent neck of the dragon, pauses briefly in an area where the stomach should be... then plops all the way through the hologram and splats on the forest floor, just as the red dragon disappears.

  “Oopsie,” I hear Allison say from maybe fifty feet away. “Got a bit carried away.”

  “It appears your witch bested my wizard,” says the vampire leader, moving in my direction. His coven of vamps follow behind him, all scanning the surroundings, taking particular note of the two Sasquatches still on the ground. One’s still moving, the other, not so much.

  “She’s not exactly my witch—but never mind that. Why is your wizard even here?”

  “To bag me a Bigfoot, of course. Don’t look so horrified. Someone has to feast on them.”

  Allison jogs over to my side, slightly out of breath; Kingsley makes his way over, too, though he’s still looking a little shaky... and a lot naked.

  “Allison...?” he says, motioning toward his hairy torso. He doesn’t have to finish.

  “On it,” she says, and waves her hand and a pair of old-fashioned trousers and a pirate-looking shirt appear. The shoes are old school boots, from an indeterminate time period. Truth be known, he looks a bit like Garcon from Beauty and the Beast. Did my best friend just dress my man up to look like a rogue?

  Short answer, yes, comes Tammy’s voice. Long answer... you don’t want to know.

  I shake my head, knowing Allison has always harbored a crush on Kingsley. At least he’s dressed. “How are you feeling?” I ask him.

  “Getting there. Was pretty wiped out.” He must have been, because he’s completely unaware he’s dressed like Fabio.

  “I might need you in a few minutes.”

  Kingsley nods, cracks his neck. “They’re just measly vamps. I got this.”

  “Am I just a measly vamp?”

  “You’re so much more than a measly vamp.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.” He sucks in some air, shakes his great, shaggy head. “Almost there.”

  “I’ll stall for time.”

  “You guys know we can hear you, right?” says the Jared Leto vampire. “I mean, we’re all vampires here. Supernatural hearing and all that. There’s no need for violence. We only want the one monster. The other can go. I have another wizard who can help me teleport this thing out of here. Of course, it will take another blood sacrifice.” He looks at the group of team members still lying across the forest floor. I realize now that most have been drained of their own energies, except they’re nowhere near as robust as Kingsley to come back from it any time soon.

  The second, bigger Sasquatch is sitting up, looking for all the world like a massive gorilla in the wild. A true ape man. His shoulder is still bleeding from the damage done by Kingsley’s wolfman, but that certainly isn’t affecting its current miasma. No, it has been drained as long or longer than Kingsley has been, and perhaps with even more gusto.

  The Leto vampire stops twenty feet from the unmoving Sasquatch, the one I had gotten to know. This group of smartly dressed vamps is bugging me. They look so ridiculous out here, so out of place, and yet so blood thirsty, that I wish like crazy Wally was here.

  Dammit, Wally. Why did you have to attack me? These are the true bloodsuckers. Could have used you about now.

  “This one,” says the Leto vamp. “He’s as good as dead. We’ll take him and be done with it. No one else has to get hurt. Or bitten in half by a magic freaking dragon.”

  Speaking of which, I note Allison isn’t doing too well, either. She’s leaning to the side, sweating and taking deep breaths.

  She’s exhausted, ma, says Tammy. Conjuring that dragon took nearly as much out of her as those magic lassos did Kingsley. And then, summoning Kingsley’s pirate outfit, put her over the edge.

  Poor Allison.

  Exactly. She needs a little more time, too. More than Kingsley. She won’t be of much use, ma.

  That’s okay. I can bring in a real dragon, if need be.

  Indeed, as a practice run, I conjure the single flame, which appears in my mind, strong and firm. With the destruction of the gold barrier, teleporting has returned. Thank God.

  “No,” I say, stepping forward. “You can’t have him.”

  “Perhaps you don’t know who I am,” says the Leto vamp.

  “A bloodsucking creep would be my first guess.”

  “I would say the same of you.”

  “Then you would be wrong.”

  He studies me a bit, perhaps noting my dark wings, which are still stuck in goop at odd angles, and the sword I’m holding in my hand. “Ah, you are an angel of death, of some sort. Your sword...”

  “Will kill you dead,” I say.

  “Of that I have no doubt. Well, I am Sigmund Meinecroft.”

  “Did he just say Minecraft?” asks Allison breathily, swallowing. “Like the game?”

  “Meinecroft,” says the man again. “It’s German.”

  “I’m still hearing Minecraft,” says Allison.

  “Me, too,” I say.

  Me three, says Tammy in my head.

  The man clenches his hands, clearly annoyed. “Meinecroft. And I rue the day that blasted game was ever created.”

  I snicker at this. So does Allison, weakly. Tammy is guffawing in my head. Kingsley looks confused. Trust me, I would look confused too if I didn’t have kids.

  “It’s a video game,” I say to my honey bunches. “I’ll explain later... if I can.”

  Meanwhile, Tammy gives me an update: Kingsley is getting close to being at one hundred percent. Allison is at like forty percent. There are seven of them and three of you. Mom, they are old-timey vampires. Stronger than most, with all sorts of tricks up their sleeves. All they want is the one Sasquatch. If they get him, they might leave without a fight. The Devil Killer scares them.

  As well it should. Is the Sasquatch going to make it?

  He is comatose; his brain shut down. I almost get a zombie-like vibe from him. Like, only a small part of his brain is functioning. That which keeps his vitals operating. I don’t know, ma. He seems pretty far gone.

  Are there any other Bigfoots in the area?

  She pauses. Nothing within five miles. I’m sensing this was the last of them, before they made a leap into another world. They were warned there was danger here, and had nearly escaped. The one sitting up—his name is Sentinel, by the way—had a few stops along the way. They are friends here with some of the forest creatures. They were saying their goodbyes when they stepped into the wizard’s trap.

  How did the wizard trap them?

  I don’t know exactly how. The guy got bit in half, remember? But my guess is Terrance used the combined knowledge of all those present, along with his software prediction technology, and determined this was a likely route or corridor for the Bigfoot. It was then the wizard was brought in to lay the trap.