10—Vs
Vasyl Van Buren phazed onto the crest of a hillside in the Nantahala Forest, hungry and angry.
He wore wraparound sunglasses, a black Prada, single-breasted wool suit, leather gloves and boots, and also a black Panama hat.
‘The Cause’ had denied him what should have been a fine meal, and now he had to hunt, rather than be served, like he deserved.
Before he hunted he had business to deal with.
Below him stood a neat little cabin in a meadow, looking like a fairytale waiting to happen. Inside that cabin was something that could be used to control switches, shifters, and even some vampires. Vasyl had big plans for it. He just had to get his hands on it.
It was daytime, but he was Fatherborne, strong enough to withstand the sun for a time.
The air near him fizzled. His twin, Vizier, appeared, his outfit the same as Vasyl’s. Their hair mirrored each other, half-black, half-white.
Vizier met his eyes. Vasyl nodded behind him, into the small meadow.
Vizier turned, crying, “There it is!” when his eyes fell on the tiny cabin. “Fia’s head is in there!”
“I know. But we can’t get it,” Vasyl said darkly.
“We should try.” Vizier held his hand out and disappeared, reappearing immediately at the front door to the cabin.
Vasyl phazed down after him. He couldn’t phaze directly into the cabin because he’d never been inside, or seen inside, and also because switch magic enlivened the small building, and helped it protect itself.
Vasyl and his brother stood on the woven mat in front of the door. Vizier reached his hand out, and POP, the cabin disappeared, leaving nothing but dirt under their feet and grass in front of them.
A bird screeched overhead. Vizier startled and cried out, then phazed away. Vasyl laughed and laughed. After some time, Vizier came back.
“That hawk has you running scared,” Vasyl said, still snickering.
“I’ll kill him,” Vizier sneered. “Again.”
Vasyl chuckled, savoring his brother’s discomfort.
After a moment, Vizer quietly said, “We need the keys to this place.”
“Yes.”
“That will mean we own it and it must open to its owners.”
“Yes.”
“Vernon Bunn has the key, he’s uncharmable, and he’s always got a shifter guard these days.”
Vasyl waved a hand. “And wherever there’s shifters, there’s switches, these days.”
“The governor?
“He says Vernon got a lawyer to challenge the case, but the judge can be swayed.”
Vizier frowned. “I don’t want to wait for a court case to play out. It could take weeks.”
“We could charm the lawyer. She could get the key from Bunn and hand it over.”
“But every time we go into town another shifter sees us, or another switch chases us down,” Vizier whined.
Vasyl thought about it. His brother had a good point.
“We’ll find some big guy to charm and have him bring her to us,” he said.
“Good plan.”
Vasyl held a hand to his head, feeling uneasy. Vizier crouched and looked ready to bolt again. Magenta light fell all around, and a glowing woman appeared where the cabin had been.
They backpedaled away from her, saying, “Warrior Woman.”
“I thought she was killed in the Reckoning,” Vizier snarled.
Vasyl only stared, thinking maybe she was a ghost, but she looked real enough.
Vizier pulled a bloodblade out of his inner coat pocket. A bloodblade was a knife infused with the blood of a little switch witch, which was spectacularly hard to come by.
“Put that away,” Vasyl snarled. “Those are only to be used on shifters.”
He reached into his own pocket and pulled out an ordinary switchblade, handing it to his brother. “Go get her.”
A blast of pink light erupted, throwing them both back. Vasyl hit his head on a tree, while his brother somersaulted past him.
Vizier got up, clutching his knife. “We’ll be back,” he snarled angrily, “And we’ll bring an army.” Black, oily magic swirled around him, and he disappeared.
Vasyl made no speeches, he only followed his brother.
He needed to feed.