Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 38

The nature and equestrian trails behindus are too exposed. Retreat and regroup is not an option. The limited amount oftree cover will provide some protection.

“How should we proceed, General?” Franxasks, gesturing for his people to form a line behind him.

Leading a pack of Shifters is easy. It’sfangs and claws and causing as much damage as possible. The pack telepathyeliminates the need for verbal commands. Leading an army comprised of peoplewith varying strengths and weaknesses is a whole different ballgame.

Ogres primarily use physical strength.I’d stick them with the more magical creatures, but ogres tend to get lost inthe bloodlust. Since they’re immune to succubae, I pair Franx’s ogres with theteam of succubae. Ogres view hiding as a sign of weakness so I send them on astraight path through the clearing. Plus, this way they won’t hurt themselvestrying to be covert.

Incubi and leprechauns don’t socialize,but they aren’t mortal enemies. Both attack using a combination of magic andphysical force. Incubi are thin as twigs, and leprechauns excel at stealth. Isend them to flank around the left so they’ll come up behind the not-Shiftersand cut off the main escape route.

Centaurs get along with just aboutanyone. I put Pernice Sutherland in charge of unit comprised of centaurs andthe rest of the army. They’ll handle the right side. My people will fill in thegaps. They’re the best at replaceing and exploiting weaknesses.

It’s strange not to be at the front ofthe battle. The adrenaline sending my heart into overdrive urges me to rushahead and join my Shifters. Instead, I force myself to hang back. The shotgundoes a more than adequate job of handling any not-Shifters who manage to getthrough the ranks.

Pump, aim, shoot. Observe. Pump, aim,shoot. My head stays on a swivel. When the Incubi-leprechaun flank falters, Isend Greta’s unit over as backup. The Centaur flank is the next to falter. Ike’steam rushes to cover their backs.

Ogres love their bladed weapons, but theydon’t seem to be much of a match for not-Shifter claws and tenacity. When tenogres fall, all my relief units are already engaged. The medical teams staybusy flitting from downed fighter to downed fighter. The pack’s medicalsupplies are going to need serious replenishment after this.

I race across the ground to where theremaining ogres and succubae are holding back a band of six not-Shifters. Theshotgun is useless for up-close-and-personal fighting. I sling it around myback so that it’s still at hand, and throw myself into the battle. Unfortunately,the not-Shifters have a bit of a size advantage.

A ham-sized fist to the face sends mereeling. Stars dance behind my eyes. The world tilts and wobbles. At least Istay on my feet.

I slam my foot into the Fuglynot-Shifter’s abdomen. That buys me enough time to fight off the worst of thedizziness. I aim my hits for the Fugly’sfleshy, vulnerable parts. It’s not a perfectly choreographed fight, but I holdmy own.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch theglint of sunlight off metal and hit my knees just in time to avoid beingskewered. Franx twists the blade inside the Fugly’s chest before pulling it outand wiping it clean on the Fugly’s thigh.

“Thanks.”

Franx grins, displaying a bloody gapwhere his front teeth had been. “Good fight, General! You have great form!”

Aseven-foot, snarling Fugly tackles Franx to the ground. The ogre’s sword fliesout of his hand and lands at my feet. Tempting, but I know better than to touchanother man’s blade.

A red haze clouds my vision. Punch,parry, retreat. A fallen branch as thick as my forearm makes an excellent club.The reverberation of the club when I bash a Fugly across the back of the headmakes my shoulders throb. It’s a glorious ache.

The blow puts the Fugly face down on thegrass. Two blows take out the Fugly’sknees. A good, hearty swing shatters the Fugly’s right arm. God, I love this club.

Until the Fugly rolls over and clamps histeeth on my beatdown stick. The wood splinters under the pressure from thenot-Shifter’s jaw.

Fine.

I don’t need a stick. I have a gun.

Goodbye Fugly.

Before that one can dissolve into goo,another Fugly comes from nowhere to slice at my left leg with razor-sharpclaws. I dodge to avoid them, but I’m just not fast enough to get completelyout of the way. The sharp, burning pain from the wounds helps me stay focused. And I should be focused on the ethereal blondewoman watching like a ghoul from her position near the creek.

I shove my Fugly toward Franx. The Fuglyengages Franx until something, or someone, sends it whirling back around to me.Guess the witch objects to being watched. That’s just too damned bad.

Let’s see if she’s bulletproof.

I’m within shotgun range. The momentarylull around me makes it easy to stop and aim. Squeeze the trigger and…

The shell bounces off a blue, opaqueforce field.

Okay, we’ll have to do this the hard way.I try to maneuver the battle closer to the witch. Five Fuglies abandon theirfights to push me back a good fifteen feet. Five on one? I like those odds.

Not-Shifter fangs pierce the skin of myright calf. Blood flows freely, and I swear that my leg is on fire. I kickback, a sharp jerk of the knee, to smash my heel into the Fugly’s face. When itrises, I rake my claws across its hideous face. The damned thing doesn’t backoff like a good inferior monster.

Snapping its neck takes care of thatproblem.

Who’s next?

Taking on a Fugly by myself is difficultbut not impossible. It means taking as many hits as I give. But the Fuglies arecontrolled by someone, likely the blonde witch, and their fighting style israther rigid.

I have no problem fighting dirty. Infact, nothing would make me happier. I jab the Fugly’s eyes and punch itsthroat. Elbow to the nose. Warm blood sprays across my face when the noseshatters. My next few shots are to the joints. Taking out the Fugly’s knees andelbows incapacitates it. I sever its jugular with my claws.

Greta howls. The fur across hermidsection is matted with blood. Her face is red and a chunk is missing out oneof her ears. Ike flies to his wife’s aid like a furry rocket. He rips into theFugly with a ferocity I’ve never seen. A not-Shifter leg sails through the airto land at my feet. Greta shows her appreciation by nipping her husband’s tail.

Shoulda known better than to take Greta’skill.

The fight spreads across the field. Asmore and more Fuglies disappear, the numbers definitely shift in our favor. Atthis rate, we’ll be done in time for dinner. Assuming Greer doesn’t drown me inpaperwork afterwards.

Something sweet and floral cuts throughthe nearly overwhelming tang of blood. Magnolias? In the park? I stop battingaround my Fugly long enough to peer at the entrance to the clearing. My momentof distraction allows the Fugly to wrap one hand around the back of my neck. BeforeI can shake him off and get back to pounding his face, an enraged ocelot slamsinto the Fugly’s side.

Thank you, Jose. There’s a newcomer toour party that I need to deal with.

A newcomer who, last I checked, was doingher best Rip Van Winkle impression.