Beware the Night

Christine scanned the bar patrons, looking out among those who leveled their own inebriated gazes back at her in challenge, or dropped their eyes completely, not wanting to get dragged into another’s problem. Not seeing any real takers, the witch’s questing gaze landed upon a short guy leaning up against bar. He was grinning cheekily back at her, like he knew just how much trouble Christine was in.

No, not a guy, Christine realized. Just her flippant luck, a Wood Elf. The pointed ears were a dead giveaway, along with the evergreen colored hair, and nut brown skin that was textured like thin bark, denoting his clan.

As much as she would have loved to avoid dealing with the Fae, Christine gritted her back teeth, reminding herself that beggars, especially desperate ones who were horribly outnumbered, absolutely couldn’t be choosers. Her knight in not so shining armor was dressed for the night life, leather and sheer material all worn too tight to be considered reasonably comfortable. Despite her situation, Christine felt a little sorry for the Wood Elf’s balls. The cut of the clothing said whore, but an expensive one. The arch in his eyebrows clearly stated that he was going to be a pain in her ass.

Feeling the presence’s powers beginning to press closer to her back, Christine sighed as she quickly moved toward the Wood Elf. Along the way, the witch cursed and thanked the powers that be in the same breathe, at least the ones that were on her side. Magic had a sense of humor. At the moment, she just didn’t appreciate being made the butt of the universe’s joke. If Christine survived, she might laugh about it later.

“Sweetheart, there you are.” Christine cooed, slapping on a smile as fake as a tinsel Christmas tree. She pressed herself up against the Wood Elf’s lean frame. Much to her relief, he let her. A tricky, dangerous move on her part as their different magical properties sniffed at each other like a pair of dogs meeting for the first time. Like the pro she just knew he was, the Wood Elf reciprocated smoothly, never missing a beat.

“Hiding in plain sight, lover.” was enough to make Christine almost consider dealing with the interdimensional presence hounding her all on her own. She tapped down the urge to beat the Wood Elf’s head into the bar, the smug bastard grinning in open amusement at her barely contained disgust. Wrapping her arms around his slender shoulders, Christine leaned in. To anyone else, it would look like it she was kissing his neck.

“Help me out here, and I’ll buy you your next round.” Christine hissed the words just below his pointed ear. The Wood Elf tipped her head back with thin graceful fingers so that he could place light teasing kisses along her jaw line.

“Make it two.” he mouthed into her skin, nipping a mark into it. The witch’s skin sparked in retaliation. “Whatever it following you is worth that much. It’s playing merry hell with my wards.”

Leaning in to touch their foreheads together, the pair looked wrapped up in their own world. “And they say chivalry is dead.” Christine said overly sweet as poisoned honey as the Wood Elf played with her curls..

“You’ll be deader than that outdated concept without my assistance and protection. Take it, or leave it. Mind you, I could care less, but believe me when I say that my offer is way better than what that being has in store for you, lover.” the Wood Elf chuckled, glancing casually over the witch’s shoulder. Like her, he could see the horror than most humans in this bar were just shrugging off as a mounting bad feeling.

“Make it look good then.” Christine sighed, knowing he was right, “I’m the love of your life.”

“Hardly, but tonight you are.” The Wood Elf snorted as he started to cast something as equally nasty to make Christine’s little problem go away for good. “I don’t suppose your name is Jane?”

“That’s random. If that’s your best party trick, maybe I should just let that thing eat me.” Christine said, looking back unimpressed as the Wood Elf started to slow dance with her to hide what he was really doing. All the lighting in the bar shuddered from the conflict, making the patrons look up from their drinks when a lightbulb or two blew, the tables beginning to shake a little all around them. “Do I really look like a Jane to you? I think I am more of a Chris.”

“Touché.” the Wood Elf said with a strange smile, twirling them as even more glass started to explode. “I think you are more trouble than you’re worth. This is a lot of effort on my part for two measly drinks.”

“So make them doubles, and get on with it.” Christine said, gesturing to her company to pick up the slack, and introduce himself. Not that she expected him to tell her his real name. The Fae never did. Names carried a very certain power to them after all.

“Puck.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am as serious as your current problem in life.” The Wood Elf who called himself Puck pointed out. Grimacing, Christine had to admit to herself that he wasn’t wrong. Currently, she was running too low on power to add her own into the fray just yet. Healing was not her forte so it took a lot out of her when she had to do it. She had an ace up her sleeve though, but one she only wanted to use as a last resort.

“Where the hell did you pick up this thing? I always thought witches were at least smart enough not to let anything from the Shoal in onto this plane. How disappointing.” Puck grimaced as more things started to explode around them in the bar. The ruined bottles of liquor were alcohol abuse in his opinion. Other things weren’t going well in the bar either, the humans in it finally beginning to panic.

Taking advantage of the situation, Puck pulled Christine backwards towards the shadows so that they use them, the pair falling through a wall to exit the bar. The humans may have changed the world in their absence, but the Fae could still find all the backdoors left in place by them so very long ago.

“This isn’t amateur hour, you prick. I was at the Hodge Podge, minding my own damn business when things went sideways. I didn’t let it in. That thing got out of the Hodge Podge’s inventory while the shopkeepers were too busy trying not to die. I’ve been trying to kill it, or contain it since I got back. Unfortunately, it arrived here in far better condition than I did, considering that I was dragged ass backwards through the Bramble.” Christine said as they took off running.

People were screaming ugly and wet in the bar, so Christine assumed it as safe to say that anyone could see the horror now. The intruder was getting used to this plane of existence, finding some stability in it, which was a very bad thing for anyone who didn’t want to be eaten alive. The witch still had no clue what it was. All Christine knew that it was big, ugly, and powerful enough to bypass the Shadow Path’s protections to enter this world via a Night Door instead, all while the witch threw every incantation she knew at it to keep it from coming here.

“You look good for being mostly dead.” Puck said, trying not to show how impressed he was by her moxie. Very few mortals could have done what she did with Shadow Paths and Night Doors while surviving, and yet here this witch was, standing on her own two feet while bantering at his side.

“I bet you tell all your clients that.” Christine muttered, looking around for anything she could work with. If she could tap into a ley line, or some random deity, Christine knew she could pull enough power to banish this thing from their plane of existence. “How do you feel about fire?”

“I can’t say I’m particularly fond of it, considering most of the trees I love are made of wood. Why do you ask?” Puck asked, already getting a bad feeling as he watched Christine fish out a vial from her pocket. It was glowing, which could be a very good thing, or a very bad thing. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends on what you think it is.” Christine grinned. Though cut grossly short, her shopping trip hadn’t been a complete bust. For once, Christine had found exactly what she had been looking for. The choice now was to do it the right way where she risked being killed, or do it the wrong way which involved running away with a ‘thoughts and prayers’ goodbye. As tempting as the latter was, karma was very real, and an utter bitch to negligent witches.

“If I’m not mistaken, that is a Salamander, and a particularly powerful one at that. You can’t be serious.” Puck said, calling upon his own element to keep the horror in the bar at bay for a moment. The Big Bad was almost done eating everyone in it. His efforts weren’t working as well as Puck would have liked though, not that he would ever admit that aloud.

As it emerged from the bar looking like a seething, oozing cyst on tentacles, more solid in putrid form and face, the monster covered the Wood Elf’s defenses in something similar to rancid tar, its inner poisons dripping over onto anything it came into contact with.

“That isn’t some ordinary glowworm of a Salamander. That’s basically a comet trapped in a bottle. That is a source, not some mere essence.” Puck winced from the onslaught. “You’re out of your mind. You’ll burn up before you can make a contract with it. Even worse, you’ll take out everything within a five mile radius if you can’t sweet talk that spark into working for you.”

“I can be very persuasive.” Christine said, already thumbing at the enchanted bottle’s stopper.

“Not from what I’ve seen. You couldn’t convince that thing from coming here.” Puck pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I got you to do that for me, so I’d say I’m doing pretty damn good right now.” Christine grinned like a cat on crack, opening the vial with a soft popping sound. The glowing thing inside perked up, especially when blood began to drip into the vial, the witch having bit her fingertip to bleed freely into the container. Saturated, the glowing thing absorbed all the blood before following the flow to its source, the Salamander crawling bodily into Christine through the wound. It was similar to a surge of electricity coming into contact with a puddle of water, making Puck wince for the witch as she screamed.

“Crap.” Christine gasped out as all the veins in her body began to glow like they were suddenly being filled of molten gold. It hurt like hell, bright white light pouring out of Christine’s eyes and mouth as the witch fell over, curling up into fetal position to keep somehow from dying. Holding onto herself, Christine could feel the force moving through her begin to settle into the place she had created for it in and on her body with tattoos made from blessed ink.

The being of the bottle wasn’t too happy about being confined for so long, but luckily for everyone present who wished to stay in one piece, the Salamander was intrigued by the witch’s offer. It wasn’t everyday that something made from such fragile materials offered up itself as an all-in-one avatar and mobile altar.

“Are you going to explode?” Puck asked, flinching as the gross thing that wanted to eat them next bodily slammed itself against its cage. “If you’re not, could you be a dear, and pitch in here? I can’t hold this vile thing in place forever. The smell alone is beginning to make me weak with nausea.”

“Fuck off.” Christine rasped out, breathing in deep through her nose to expel pain and more light out through her mouth. Need, want, and belief were the core trinity of magic, all of which Christine had in excess.

“Naptime’s over. Come on, come on, come on. Wake up.” Christine whispered, watching as the veins in her arms pulsed with new power. The pain of being burned out from within was finally beginning to recede. It still hurt, but in the good way a workout did, one you really pushed through. She was the giddy sort of exhausted, feeling half dead covered in sweat, but still ready to take on the world.

“Dare I ask why you are talking to your shoulder?” Puck said, studying the witch. The gold was beginning to leave her veins the same way magma cooled down before going to ground. Light was still pouring from her eyes, but it was in more shades of the setting sun, all in shades of orange, pink, and red instead of high noon’s blinding white.

“Because I want to look insane.” Christine snapped, ignored the Wood Elf in favor of her shoulder. “This isn’t exactly easy, you know.”

“What? Looking insane?”

“I’m talking to him, smartass.” Christine said, flicking her fingers at something on her right side. Puck ended up doing a double take, and for good reason as he watched a frog tattoo inked with starlight sleepily crawl across the witch’s back, and up onto her shoulder to peer back at the Wood Elf. It wasn’t everyday one met a Skin Witch and a true Salamander, both a rarity among magical users.

“There you are.” Christine cooed, running her fingers over the creature inked into her skin, the light pouring out of it cooling down the longer the witch spoke to the Salamander. The fire elemental leaned out of her skin as far as it could to get more pets from its new servant and home. “This is Skarl.”

“Cute frog.” Puck snorted, because he really couldn’t help himself at times. He ended up jumping back with a yelp when the ‘cute frog’ emerged from the witch’s skin with a spray of blood, and the tearing of her skin. A true Salamander, looking far more reptilian than amphibian now, sat fat and huge across Christine’s bloody shoulders, curling its long tail possessively around her left arm. Its scales looked made from hammered rose gold, brass, copper, and bright Inca yellow gold while its eyes were the kind of blue only found in flame. A second skin of perpetual fire covered the Salamander from tip of tail to its nose, its long flickering tongue shedding sparks as the Salamander leveled an impressive glare at the Wood Elf.

“You just became much more interesting, my dear.” Puck said with a grin to receive a flat look from both the witch and her newly bonded elemental.

“Oh joy. My life is complete.” Christine said as she adjusted her shoulders to better accommodate the Salamander. She could feel the wounds made from his exit already healing up, the spilled blood being baked right off her skin into floating bits of ash. “Keep that interest to yourself, or I’ll feed you to Skarl in pieces.”

“He looks heavy.”

“Yeah, and water is wet.” Christine rolled her eyes. “If I put him down, he’ll eat through the pavement. I don’t know about you, but I’m not in the mood to play ‘the floor is lava’ for real. I think we’ve got enough on our plate already.”

“It’s breaking through.” Puck informed her, lighting a clove cigarette as he took a step back. Puck had a pretty good feeling that his assistance was no longer needed, but he also wasn’t about to miss out on this fight for anything.

“Let it.” Christine grinned as the Salamander lit up her body and aura from within, making Puck shield his eyes as the Skin Witch become a being of flame and wicked intent. With a pass of his hands, the Wood Elf dropped the remnants of his defense as he watched the witch run forward, straight towards a gaping maw full of dripping ichor and teeth. Without hesitation, Christine jumped in, taking Skarl with her.

As far as Puck could tell Christine was swallowed up whole, the foul thing rolling its body like it was laughing, the air about it tangibly smug. That feeling didn’t last long, its many eyes opening wide all at once in white ringed, surprised panic.

“I don’t think you are going to live long enough to regret doing that.” Puck told the monster as it began to violently convulse. The Wood Elf decided to err on the side of caution, making a run for it to take cover behind some cars. It turned out to be a very wise decision on his part, considering the monster blew up only moments later.

Brushing broken car glass off of his shoulders and out of his long hair, Puck stood back up to survey the damage. He stepped away from the car he had been using for cover as it slid into the crater left behind by the monster’s annihilation. Christine had succeeded in blowing the damn thing back to a realm of Hell, the Shoal, or wherever else it had come from. All the rest was collateral damage, the dive bar gone, along with any proof that the vile creature had been there at all. What little that remained was ash floating down like strange snowfall.

“What a shame.” Puck sighed, “Interesting humans are so rare.”

“I’m not dead, you asshole.” Was said from somewhere behind him, Puck whipping around to find the witch in relatively one piece. Her clothing was a lost cause, but Christine was alive and well, smoking a procured cigarette from the Maker knows where. Skarl looked particularly smug from his perch, using his new avatar’s head, neck, and shoulders to lounge on like a bordello chaise.

Christine had not emerged completely unscathed though. Her once fair strawberry blonde hair was burned by the Salamander to a dark red that was almost black, and her honey brown eyes were stunning aquamarine now. The Wood Elf toyed with the idea of letting the witch know this, but decided to leave it as a surprise for later instead. Puck also planned to be right there by her side when she did.

“I had complete faith in your considerable abilities.” Puck grinned as the witch rolled her eyes at him. “Besides, you don’t get to take the easy way out. You and I have a deal. I believe you owe me quite a few drinks. Doubles, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I am a woman and witch of my word, but my wallet has been incinerated. However, I do have a very well-stocked bar at home.” Christine told him, “Take it, or you’ll have to wait until I can dig up some cash.”

“I think my help in the matter is worth more than a few drinks.” Puck said, gesturing up and down with a flourish and a leer.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d rather chew glass.” Christine snorted, leveling a look at the Wood Elf as Skarl hissed and sparked at him. “Besides that, I don’t think he likes you very much.”

“I am very likeable.”

“That remains to be seen.” Christine said, getting a very distinct feeling about the Wood Elf. There were threads of Fate at work here, settling in place to bind them together for whatever reason. The witch just hoped and prayed it was a good one as she came to a decision. “If you don’t want cash, and I’m not offering ass, I also have all the channels, apps, and wifi.”

“You already said the magic words, Glinda. You had me at ‘very well-stocked bar’. Let’s go."