Would-Be Witch by Kimberly Frost

blood welled. The red swirled before my eyes, and I felt dizzy.
    “Don’t. Don’t faint.” He squeezed my arm with his unwounded hand. “Promise me.”
    “I promise,” I said, my blood draining to my toes as he knelt and marked the floor with his blood. I braced my hands against the walls. And then Bryn stood and marked the walls with stars and a crescent moon as he muttered some enchantment.
    The door splintered, and I heard the most horrible sound I’d ever heard in my life. A snarling howl. A pack of huge werewolves rushed the room, long muzzles with dagger-sharp teeth bared. A couple were only partially shifted, taking the form of wolf-men covered in fur with clawed hands and feet, faces deformed and feral.
    I slammed my back against the wall for support and couldn’t breathe. Bryn shouted something in Latin and flung his arms out, advancing. The other witches and wizards threw spells, too.
    The wolves tore through the magic, and one ate the parakeet in one gulp before they knocked down the old witches. Two pounced on the Cajun and tore his chest open. Blood splattered.
    I shrieked and flung an arm across my eyes. I didn’t want to see them kill me. The growls were deafening, and so were the sounds of bodies falling and witches and wizards screaming.
    Finally, things went quiet, except for the wolves’ growling. I opened my eyes and saw Bryn on his knees, arms outstretched. Lennox had a hand on his son’s right shoulder and the amulet in the other. Astrid too had a bloody hand on Bryn’s left shoulder and one hand out. Some of the beasts were dead or seriously wounded, but the ones who weren’t leapt forward, blood dripping from their jowls.
    An invisible barrier repelled them, but when they bounced back they recovered immediately and slammed forward again, battering the magical energy and forcing the trio back.
    A huge clawed pair swiped through the barrier and Lennox fell, cracking his head on the floor.
    Astrid, breathless and limp, sank down onto her hands and knees, and a wolf towered over her. I screamed as it gnashed its teeth and tried to bite her spine. Bryn kept his arms up and the wolf ’s mouth slid just shy of Astrid.
    I could see Bryn struggling to hold them back, his arms shaking slightly. They surrounded him, looming huge and vicious. Sweat dripped from Bryn’s hair and the veins on his neck popped.
    Too many of them. They’ll wear him down.
    He was splitting his strength to shield me. And we were both going to end up dead if someone didn’t help him. I needed something—a weapon. I looked at the table service. I hoped it wasn’t just butter knives wrapped up in the linen napkins.
    I stepped forward, and the bubble popped. Bryn gasped as the power sling-shotted into him.
    “No!” he yelled, glancing back as two wolves jumped, sliding over the shield and coming straight for me.
    I saw the steak knives on the buffet. I ran toward it.
    “Carpe facto!” Bryn shouted, and I felt myself flung forward. I closed my eyes and screamed, feeling my hands close on cool, wooden knife handles.
    I crouched and spun, thrusting my arms out. I fell back when they slammed into me, and I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my fists forward as hard as I could, burying my hands in fur up to the wrists. I felt the knives plunge into the wolf-men, then they were off me.
    I realized I was screaming and stopped. The room was deathly quiet. I opened my eyes, tears already flowing. Bryn bent over, gasping. Blood flowed from a wound on his side.
    I stood and swayed, but caught myself by leaning against the table with my elbow. The crimson scratches on my legs stung. I dropped the steak knives; raw meat hung along the serrations. I staggered, feeling sick. I grabbed the table and bent my head to sob. I didn’t want to look at the bodies, half eaten by the wolves, rank as a sewer.
    “It’s okay,” Bryn said, sounding far away, though he couldn’t have been, because I felt his hand against my head. “Let’s