munched away. `Sorry, then.'
`Apology accepted. What's your father doing?' She looked up as Mason stepped out onto the patio. A cold finger poked in her gut as he looked to Wilson and back to her.
`Here.' He held out her handbag, his smile stiff.
Wilson slipped his hand into the towel on the table beside her. She glimpsed a muzzle. `Thanks.' In her bag lay one of Mason's pistols.
`You ready?'
`Yeah.' Wilson flexed his neck, mimicking Mason. Vertebrae clicked.
Shit. Ruth swallowed. They were serious. Her hand tightened on the pistol as Wilson's face went hard.
`About two hundred and fifty metres, east, in the tree line. It's… different.'
`Yeah.' Wilson stood up. `It's not a Bloodells. I saw it earlier today watching me and Sally on the beach. Using some sort of glamour to try to make itself invisible.'
Ruth found herself standing. Whatever `it' was had followed Wilson and Sally, her family. Anger came quickly to her — fucking Unnaturals. `Go get it.' She flicked the safety switch off and blinked.
Mason was gone. Wilson was halfway up the slope to the tree line as she leapt off the patio.
`Holy crap,' she muttered, pumping her legs hard. Mason had become a blur; bushes and tall grass rippled where he had passed. She caught a glimpse of movement as he disappeared into the tree line.
`Wilson!' He didn't hear her but did his own disappearing act into the tree line. Her legs began to feel heavy as she pushed herself up the steep incline. Something wailed ahead of her, sending goosebumps across her flushed skin.
Shouting erupted. Wilson.
A fresh rush of adrenaline surged through her. Red flashed through the bushes just as she burst through, pistol held ready to fire as she had been trained.
Anything hurting Wilson was going to die.
`Oh.' This wasn't what she had seen before or been trained to kill. These didn't look like Bloodells.
`Butcher!' The red-haired girl trapped in her husband's bear hug snarled. `Bastard!' Her long red hair writhed around her as she struggled in his grip.
Ruth's aim faltered as Mason snarled, his face nothing like the man she loved. She saw a hatred and viciousness there, that sent her hiding behind a tree. He looked more dangerous than the woman he was fighting. What was happening? She shook her head. The Bloodells who had tried to kill her were all silent, lethal men.
`Let her go!'
A second voice made her look around the tree for Wilson. She found him with his face ugly with hate, gun raised, moving in closer to a small, dark-haired woman.
`Get down on your knees, hands behind your head!' he shouted. His finger was tight on the trigger. But how was the dark-haired woman a threat?
`Not going to happen.' The woman stepped towards Wilson, unafraid. White energy crackled across her hands. `Let her go, Butcher, or I fry the boy.'
A witch.
`Don't fucking move.' Ruth stepped forward and pressed her pistol against the witch's temple. She sagged and splinters of energy shattered into the trees. A dark, ugly bruise raced across the witch's skin and Ruth found herself smiling. `Get down on your knees.' Nothing happened. She lashed out, kicking the witch in the back of the knees so she fell forward.
`Hah!' A third voice echoed in glee above her, but the witch had her attention. She pushed her to the ground.
Wilson edged closer, pistol aimed high; he was scanning the treetops. `Show yourself!'
Ruth knelt on the witch's back, grinding the pistol against her temple. `If you move I will kill you.' It was the truth, and the witch did not struggle under her.
`Get down here.' Wilson still circled, watching the treetops. `I can see you. Either you come down or I shoot.'
`Eek!'
Ruth risked a glance upwards. Leaves and bark fell as a skinny girl moved lizard-like down the tree trunk.
`Move over there.' Wilson waved the girl around so Ruth could see her as well. She looked terrible. A metal collar bit into her neck. Blood and leaves were stuck to her… Scales?
Ruth realised the girl was naked. `What the hell are you?'
`Scarla,' the lizard-girl whined, revealing fine sharp teeth. `Please, help me.'
Cold washed over Ruth and the witch stiffened. The girl, Scarla, had disappeared. `Where'd she go?'
`I think she teleported,' Wilson stuttered.
Mason roared as Ruth watched the red-haired girl tear a muscled arm free from his grip. A warning died on her lips as he reacted.
`Enough of this!' He flung the girl into the air. She spun mid-air and dropped back at him with long, darkened nails. Ruth's vision seemed to blur for a second as Mason lashed out. The sound of him striking the girl made her eyes water.
The girl slammed into a tree. Blood sprayed and bones snapped.
`Animals.' The witch writhed but Ruth shoved the pistol into her again.
`You're the animals, coming here to our island home. Attacking my family.' Ruth enjoyed the sound of pain the witch made. She grabbed a hunk of dark hair and yanked. 'You have made a very big mistake by coming here.' She yanked at the witch's hair with each word, the pain on her face igniting a sensation in Ruth she had not felt before.
`I didn't think you were like this,' Mason said, dropping the battered redhead beside the dark-haired witch. He rested a hand on Ruth's shoulder. She almost gasped at his touch. Everything around intensified, the sounds, smell and… desire.
She looked down at her white hand, holding the witch's hair. `What's happening?'
`It's our gift. It's what came to us the day of the funeral. It gives us the strength to protect our family.'
`I don't want to be like Butcher.' The words lost meaning as her skin passed beyond white and began to marble. It was as if Mason's touch fed the strength she already had in her. The witch under her squirmed but Ruth pressed down and the movement stopped. She had done that. She had hurt an Unnatural. It made her smile.
`You won't be.' Mason's lips touched her ear and a sound began to build deep in her. `You're different from me. You protect and love. I hate and hunt.'
Ruth felt her body respond to the truth of his words. Her skin softened but his strength still flowed through her.
`Mum, please.' Wilson's voice came faint amid the rush of noise in her mind. A sensation on her shoulder — Wilson's hand — made her look away from Mason.
Why did Wilson have tears? `Mum, please don't change. Don't become like Dad, please. We don't need to…'
Ruth was confused for a second. Wilson had gone. Her face was wet. She heard Mason's howl of rage as red hair swirled and the witch writhed under her.
Wilson. She realised he was the crumpled shape on the edge of the clearing. He lay motionless, with blood streaming from his head. Her hand touched the wetness on her face. Red smeared her fingers. Wilson's blood.
Her hand marbled rock hard as a dark rage welled up inside her and the darkness took over.
Wilson heard it.
A sound that made him move. His mother's voice distorted in a dark rage. Blood filled his vision as he tried to stand up. Pain sparked inside his head with each movement.
`No. Stop!' He managed to wipe enough blood out of his eyes to see.
Everything was wrong. `No, Mum, put her down!' He staggered closer as Ruth held the witch up by the throat, her feet kicking clear of the ground.
Mason circled the now healed redheaded girl.
Fear screamed at him. The women were terrified.