the flower bed, I felt a band of worry tighten in me. As David had said, the only way you could be a Were was to be born that way. The bandage-covered tooth gashes on my knuckles and neck from Karen would soon be gone with no lingering effects but for what remained in my memory. There might be a charm in the black arts section of the library, but black earth magic used nasty ingredientsâlike indispensable people partsâand I wasnât going to go there.
The one time I had considered using black earth magic, I came away with a demon mark, then got another, then managed to find myself said demonâs familiar. Lucky for me, I had kept my soul and the bargain was declared unenforceable. I was free and clear but for Big Alâs original demon mark, which Iâd wear along with Newtâs mark until I found a way to pay both of them back. But at least with the familiar bond broken, Al wasnât showing up every time I tapped a ley line.
Eyes pinched from the sun, I smeared dirt over my wrist and Alâs demon mark. The earth was cool, and it hid the upraised circle-and-line scar more reliably than any charm. It covered the red welt from the band the Weres had put on me, too. God, I had been stupid.
The breeze shifted a red curl to tickle my face, and I tuckedit away, glancing past the rosebush to the back of the flower bed. My lips parted in dismay. It had been trampled.
An entire section of plants had been snapped at their bases and were now sprawled and wilting. Tiny footprints gave evidence of who had done it. Outraged, I gathered a handful of broken stems, feeling in the soft pliancy their unstoppable death. Damn garden fairies .
âHey!â I shouted, lurching up to stare into the canopy of the nearby ash tree. Face warm, I stomped over and stood under it, the plants in my hand like an accusation. Iâd been fighting them since theyâd migrated up from Mexico last week, but it was a losing battle. Fairies ate insects, not nectar, like pixies did, and they didnât care if they killed a garden in their search for food. They were like humans that way, destroying what kept them alive in the long term in their search for short-term resources. There were only six of them, but they had no respect for anything.
âI said hey!â I called louder, craning my neck to the wad of leaves that looked like a squirrelâs nest midway up the tree. âI told you to stay out of my garden if you couldnât keep from wrecking it! What are you going to do about this!â
As I fumed on the ground, there was a rustling, and a dead leaf fluttered down. A pale fairy poked his head out, the leader of the small bachelor clan orienting on me immediately. âItâs not your garden,â he said loudly. âItâs my garden, and you can take a long walk in a short ley line for all I care.â
My mouth dropped open. From behind me came the thump of a window closing; Ivy didnât want anything to do with what was to follow. I didnât blame her, but it was Jenksâs garden, and if I didnât drive them out, it would be trashed by the time I convinced him to come back. I was a runner, damn it. If I couldnât keep Jenksâs garden intact, I didnât deserve the title. But it was getting harder each time, and they only returned the moment I went inside.
âDonât ignore me!â I shouted as the fairy disappeared inside the communal nest. âYou nasty little twit!â A cry of outrage slipped from me when a tiny bare ass took the place ofthe pale face and shook at me from the wad of leaves. They thought they were safe up there, out of my reach.
Disgusted, I dropped the broken stems and stalked to the shed. They wouldnât come to me, so I would go to them. I had a ladder.
The blue jays in the graveyard called, enjoying something new to gossip about while I struggled with the twelve-foot length of metal. It smacked into the lower branches as I
Janwillem van de Wetering