Chapter 40 — Static in the Veins
Ozone sat on Becca's tongue like a penny she couldn't spit out. The air pinched at her lungs and left her hair lifting along her forearms in little prickling waves. Light kept flaring through the canopy in sharp flashes, bright enough to bleach bark pale for an instant before everything settled back into green shadow. She kept walking anyway, boots crunching needles and grit, shoulders loose the way they got before a fight.
Her crow moved above her in short hops, keeping low enough that Becca could track it between the branches. The bird clicked once, then again, and Becca felt it in her bones more than she heard it. The boar stayed close and heavy at her flank, a steady presence that pushed brush aside with snorts and stubborn momentum. The unicorn paced just behind, hooves quiet for something that large, horn angled forward like it expected the next problem to introduce itself.
"Alright," Becca muttered, mostly to herself. "You wanna play? We can play."
The crow snapped its wings and dropped to a lower limb.
A black shape slid out of the trees and into Becca's life like it had always been there. It hit fast enough that her eyes barely caught the white bolt stripe along its flank before lightning cracked across its fur. Heat licked her cheek as she twisted, and the strike punched dirt where her head had been.
Becca laughed once, harsh and surprised. "Oh, you're gorgeous."
The panther wheeled and came again.
Jolts of white-blue light snapped across its shoulder as it moved, leaving afterimages that tried to trick her into swinging at ghosts. Becca stepped in anyway, fist cutting for the line of its neck, and her knuckles brushed slick fur instead of bone. Teeth flashed near her wrist, and she yanked her hand back fast enough to keep her fingers.
"Try harder," she snapped, grin splitting her face even as her pulse spiked.
The boar lunged with a furious squeal, tusks angling for ribs. The panther slid aside like smoke and raked a claw across the boar's shoulder, sparks cracking as lightning skittered along bristle. The boar took it, shook once, and drove forward harder, refusing to be taught manners.
The unicorn moved with a short, sharp burst, not to kill, but to steal space. Its horn cut a clean line through the flashes, forcing the panther to change angles. Becca used that shift to close distance, boots digging in, shoulder lowered, hands open.
The panther hit her first.
Claws raked through cloth and skin, and pain flared hot across her shoulder. Lightning snapped across her back, sharp enough to make her jaw clench and her breath jump. The strike left her muscles buzzing, a jittery wrongness that tried to make her hands open and her knees buckle.
Becca swallowed it down and spat a laugh through her teeth. "Yeah. That's the good stuff."
She stepped in close before the panther could disappear again.
Becca reached for fur instead of trying to land a clean punch, fingers curling hard into muscle and hide. The panther twisted, teeth bared, and the bolt stripe along its flank flared bright as lightning crawled down it in a living crack. The shock snapped across Becca's forearm, pain blooming sharp enough to make her vision stutter.
Her grip tightened.
The boar slammed into the panther's side like a battering ram, and the impact drove all three of them into brush. Leaves tore. Branches snapped. The panther hit the ground, rolled, and tried to spring away.
Becca went with it.
She stayed glued to the cat's neck and shoulder, forearm hooked, body pressed close enough to feel its heat and tension. The unicorn shoved forward and held the line near Becca's ribs, horn angled low as a warning rather than a threat. The crow clicked again, fast and urgent, and Becca shifted her weight a fraction, keeping her throat away from teeth.
"Look at you," Becca hissed, breath ragged. "You're gonna be mine, and you're gonna hate it."
Lightning snapped again, closer this time, and Becca's muscles seized hard enough to make her teeth chatter. She tasted blood where she'd bitten her tongue. The panther's claws dug in with purpose, and the pain tried to pry her hands open.
Becca let it hurt.
She pressed her forehead to the panther's neck and forced her will into the contact like she was breaking a lock with her bare hands. Nothing about it felt gentle. Nothing about it felt clean. She held on through the shocks until her shoulder throbbed and her forearm went numb.
The panther's struggle changed.
Fury stayed in its eyes. Tension stayed in its body. The hatred in its posture drained away from Becca like water finding a crack, and the lightning tightened closer to its stripe, snapping shorter arcs instead of wild lashes.
Becca eased her grip by a hair and dared it to bite her throat.
The panther didn't.
It stayed rigid beneath her palms, breathing low and heavy, gaze cutting through the trees as if it expected something else to try. The bolt stripe along its flank glowed faint, then settled into a stark white line against black fur. The air stopped scraping Becca's lungs, and her hands stopped trembling.
A laugh broke out of her, ragged and real. "Oh my god. You're a menace."
The boar paced a tight circle, still angry, still ready, then snorted and settled into a low grunt. The unicorn stood close enough that Becca could feel its warmth at her back, horn lowered now. The crow perched on a low branch and watched with bright, unblinking eyes.
The panther took one slow step forward.
Becca's body tensed on instinct. Her beasts tensed with her.
The cat stopped beside her instead of through her.
Its tail flicked once, irritated and sharp, and lightning popped off the tip into the dirt with a sound like a snapped wire. The panther's ears angled forward, listening past Becca, scanning the world like it belonged there.
Becca lifted her injured arm and winced as fabric pulled at blood. "Yeah, okay," she muttered. "We're gonna have words later."
She took a careful step. The panther moved with her.
Becca took another, testing whether it would peel away into the trees the moment her guard dropped. It stayed close, head low, eyes bright, and the stripe along its side stayed steady as a scar. The crow hopped forward again, leading. The boar resumed its stubborn trot. The unicorn fell into step beside Becca with a snort that sounded offended on her behalf.
"Let's go," Becca said, voice rough. "Before the next thing shows up and decides I look tasty."
The panther's ears flicked. It kept pace.
—
Jasmine's phone buzzed on the edge of her bed, and the sound felt too loud in the small room. Her hands shook when she reached for it, and her fingers fumbled the first time as if her body had forgotten how to hold things. The screen blurred and sharpened in a slow pulse that made her stomach roll.
She'd sent the message. She'd stared at it until her eyes burned. Waiting didn't make the pressure ease.
Jasmine forced herself to stand, and the room tilted.
Her knees locked, then loosened without permission. A cold flush crawled up her spine, followed by a wave of heat that left her skin prickling. Breath caught halfway in, and she had to fight it down into her chest like she was trying to fill lungs that had shrunk.
She took one step toward the door.
The second step never landed cleanly.
A surge hit her from the inside, sudden and violent, like a tide slamming into bone. Light flashed behind her eyes, and her vision filled with gold-white sparks that had no business existing in her bedroom. Her muscles seized, fingers clawing at empty air as her body went rigid.
Jasmine tried to call out.
Sound came out wrong, a thin, broken noise that didn't match the panic in her chest. Her heart hammered hard enough to shake her ribs, then stuttered in a way that made her throat tighten.
She fell.
The floor struck her hip, then her shoulder, and pain cracked through her in bright lines. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and the next inhale didn't come. Her mouth opened anyway, dragging at nothing.
The surge swelled again.
Heat rolled through her veins, too full, too fast, and her body went slack as if someone had cut the strings. The sparks behind her eyes widened into a white glare that swallowed the ceiling. A deep, heavy pressure gathered in her chest, and her heartbeat faded into something distant.
The phone buzzed again somewhere near her hand.
A voice cut through the haze. "Jas?"
Footsteps hammered down the hallway, fast and uneven. A door banged against a wall. Raven rounded the corner with her backpack half off one shoulder, hair messy like she'd been running, face already tight with worry.
Raven saw Jasmine on the floor and went pale.
"Oh my god—Jasmine!"
She dropped to her knees so hard the sound cracked. Her backpack hit the floor without her looking at it. Raven's hands shook as she grabbed Jasmine's shoulders, trying to lift her head gently, trying to find her breath.
"Hey. Hey, look at me," Raven said, voice sharp with panic. "Jas—breathe. Please."
Jasmine's eyes stayed half-lidded and unfocused. Her chest barely moved.
Raven's breath came fast. She fumbled for her phone with one hand, fingers clumsy with fear, then dropped it when her grip slipped. Raven swore and leaned closer, pressing her ear near Jasmine's mouth as if sound might prove life.
"Okay. Okay, I'm here," Raven whispered, and the words shook. "I've got you."
She slid one arm under Jasmine's shoulders, the other bracing her at the waist, and hauled her up a fraction with frantic care. Raven's voice broke into something raw as she looked toward the door.
"Help!" Raven shouted. "Somebody help—"
She moved, dragging Jasmine's weight toward the hallway as if sheer will could pull her into safety.