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We pray, oh Lady, protect us from the venom of our enemies. – Prayer to Selket, The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut, Deir el-Bahri, Egypt
The creatures’ bones poked through the scales covering the majority of their bodies. Tufts of hair or possibly feathers stuck out in odd places. The elongated snouts seemed a cross between canine and reptilian, with nasty looking fangs that matched the talons at the end of their forearms. The forked tongue of the first creature flicked out, testing the air.
Billie gulped frigid oxygen and reached under her wool coat for the handle along her spine. Panic threatened to shut down cognitive function. These monsters looked so freaking real. She didn’t for one minute believe her knife would affect these things, but maybe she could buy the children escape time.
What the hell was she thinking? The ghost children were already dead. She wasn’t. She eased the steel from the sheath anyway.
A high-pitched scream broke the stand-off. The nightmare on the angel launched itself at Marcus.
“No!” Knife in hand she leapt at the monster, blocking it from the paralyzed ghost. The nightmare backhanded her. The blow drove all breath from her lungs. She slammed into the same marker it had perched on and dropped to the ground. The nerves in her hip and ribs howled at the impact.
The attack on Billie spurred a reaction in the terrified ghost children. Screaming and crying, they raced in different directions. The other two creatures chased after them, reminding her too much of the coyotes that had gotten into Grandpa’s chicken coop one night.
Billie crawled to her fists and knees. Somehow her right hand still gripped her knife. Her diaphragm ached from the thing’s blow. Lungs cried for air.
The creature ignored her and reached for Marcus. Her own gut twisted in response the boy’s scream as the talons seemed to cut into his ectoplasmic skin. Forcing herself upright, she jumped on the thing’s back.
Shock filled her at the monster’s solidity. The heat from its scales burned white-hot compared to Sarah Jane’s touch. What the hell were these things and why were they chasing ghosts in the cemetery?
The creature roared at Billie’s weight and dropped Marcus. Flinging itself around, it tried to dislodge her. She clung to the gyrating creature, brought the knife up and plunged the steel into its back. Instead of the scales deflecting the blow as she half expected, the knife sank nearly to its hilt.
Another roar shook the night. The creature bucked and heaved, throwing Billie to the ground again. Despite the air driven from her lungs a second time, she rolled away as it tried to stomp her into red jelly on the ice and dead grass. Foor talons dug furrows across partially frozen sod. It clawed at the wound on its back and bellowed its agony to the universe. Then it focused on her, stalking her across the torn ground.
Amazement flickered through her fear that the hunting knife remained in her hand. She crawled away from the furious creature until her back ran into stone. Maliciousness shone in the thing’s eyes. It loomed over her, its jaws open wide.
Desperation drove the knife through the upper jaw and what she prayed was the brain.
The thing paused, as if surprised. One last metallic screech sent a wave of fetid, hot breath across her face.
Then the creature simply shattered. Pieces of it rained over her, hot shards getting in one last blow by singeing her face, hands, and coat.
Sucking in a deep breath, she sat upright, only to find she’d attracted the attention of its compatriots. Now, they ignored the children, including the weeping Marcus sprawled a few headstones away. Their focus carried a malignant air. She’d killed one of their own. These two wouldn’t be as easy.
Not that the first one was a piece of cake. She climbed to her feet, and adrenaline shook her knees so hard she could barely remain upright. Ignoring the part of her psyche that screamed this couldn’t be real, she tightened her fist around the knife handle.
From the corner of her eye, a shadow appeared at the top of a nearby mausoleum. The shaking moved from her legs to her arms. Crap. Another one of these monsters?
The shadow leapt from the mausoleum. Darkness resolved into two large pointed ears, a long snout, and a tail. Gold eyes reflected the ambient light bouncing off the low, wet clouds. A dog. He trotted to her side, tongue lolling when he looked up at her. His tail gave a friendly wave before he turned to the remaining creatures. An ugly growl began low in his throat, a sound that made them stop.
Strange hissing ran between the creatures. Why would a dog make these things hesitate? He barked, but the sound was more a high-pitched yelp. His hackles stood straight up, and his ears flattened.
The two monsters seemed to take the threat seriously and shifted apart. One feinted at the dog. He sprang at the creature and leapt back, keeping himself between the lizard creatures and Billie. He started shaking his head, almost as if he was having a seizure.
Only then did Billie notice the black ichor running down the creature’s arm and dripping from its talons. The dog was literally trying to shake the taste of the monster out of his mouth. She couldn’t stop the burble of nervous humor that erupted from her throat. The giggles died as abruptly as they started when eyes the color of neon pus glared at her.
More hissing between the two creatures accompanied by fierce looks at her and the strange dog. Then the leader spat a noise at the canine who made a weird chuffing. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought the dog was laughing at them.
The lead monster pointed at her and snapped its jaws, the warning unmistakable. It wanted revenge for its fellow she’d killed. Its malevolent gaze turned from her to the prone, crying Marcus. A vicious kick tore another scream from the dead child before it loped into the night. Its partner added its own kick at Marcus before it ran after the first.
Billie looked down at the dog. No, not a dog. While definitely canine, the shape was wrong. The legs too long. The ears too big. “Thanks.” His tongue hung out of his mouth, and he nodded.
No, he could not have possibly understood her. Once again, she pushed another disconcerting thought away because if she thought too much about what just happened, she’d turn into a quivering mass, too.
Billie limped over to Marcus, the dog-thing padding after her, and knelt next to his head. The boy’s sobs racked his whole body.
“It hurts, Miss Billie! Make it stop!” he cried though gulping breaths he no longer needed.
Right. Like she had a clue of how those things affected a ghost to begin with. Much less how she’d managed to kill one on the monsters. How the hell was she supposed help Marcus?
Guilt seeped through the adrenaline rush. Damn, she couldn’t even hold the boy’s hand for comfort. Only the older ghosts, like Sarah Jane, could manifest their ectoplasm to resemble a solid. Not knowing what else to do, she whispered over and over again, “It’s okay, Marcus.”
White light spread through the night, bouncing off the marble mausoleums and accumulating snow. It rendered Marcus practically invisible.
“Might have known you’d screw over someone else’s kid.” Cyrus Johnson glared down at her.
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