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Hayle Coven Universe: Sassafras

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. PLEASE NOTE: SASSAFRAS contains spoilers for the HAYLE COVEN NOVELS. Do not read before #7, FLESH AND BLOOD. Banished Power engulfed me, a strong hand stroking my fur as Ahbi's mind met mine. I wish you well, Sassafras, she sent. Do come to visit someday. No time to respond, not while her magic lifted me, sent me forward, toward the gap in the veil, through it— My new body fell, landed hard on cold, wet gravel, the light from the veil shining one more moment. It snapped shut behind me, leaving me alone in the cold dark. When the demon boy Sassafras breaks Demonicon’s oldest law and strips the power of another, he is sentenced to death. Only his influential father’s pleading commutes Sass’s sentence to banishment. Forced into the body of a silver Persian, his power taken from him, he is dumped in the dark streets of Victorian London and left to die. Rescued by a young witch and integrated into her family, Sassafras finds purpose at last, guiding and loving the Hayle family, sharing his heart with the remarkable coven he claims as his own.

Patti Larsen · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

Chapter 8: Persian

Rain pattered down on my fur, striking the tip of my nose, making me sneeze, shake my head. My vision had always been excellent, as with most demons, but this new, hyper-optic way of seeing the world had me feeling a little disoriented. A large puddle beckoned, as did the need to gaze upon myself in my new form, though part of me wished to find a hole in the ground somewhere in this magic-forsaken place and never emerge.

The flickering glow of a gas-powered light, the stench of the fuel that kept it burning hurting my delicate nose, offered enough light I didn't have to strain to see myself. Amber eyes gazed back at me, that much was the same, though my pupils were now slitted and the glow I was used to faded to a mere flicker. My nose was depressed into my face, pink and wet. A handful of very long whiskers stuck out from either side of my mouth, twitching as if of their own accord, letting me know the wind was picking up as it brushed over their sensitive lengths. But I was too busy to notice. Absorbed in my new look, my horror grew, from my soft and delicate pink paw pads to the thick and impossibly itchy coat of silver fur. Luxurious indeed, but sure to become a hindrance as I tried to navigate my new home. What I wouldn't have given for a pair of hands!

I found myself turning away, small, pointed ears sagging to the side, tail drooping into the wet, dirty muck coating the ground of the alley. My gaze forlornly swept the place where the veil had been while the rain picked up, falling in fat, icy drops.

My nose twitched again. The odor of open sewage and rotting refuse finally reached through my shock and drove a series of sneezes from me as I tried to free myself of the hideous stench. One paw rose, swiped over my face, only to smear mud and worse things into the fur. I backed off, shaking my head, pawing desperately at the filth. It only made things worse. I found myself splashing into the puddle, soaking my legs and belly, my tail hanging heavy behind me.

Lost, I was lost, hopeless, helpless in the form of a creature who would never survive, not without magic. But I had magic, didn't I? I reached for it in desperation, pulled it close. Yes, there it was. Just enough. I would make it enough. And gather more to me. I already knew there were those with power here on this plane. And while their magic might not have been compatible, surely I could find a way to adapt.

It would have been so easy to just give up, to let myself fall into a black pit I would never emerge from alive. But the fighter inside, the veteran of so many battles, refused in that moment to quit, to let Ahbi and Father and Mother and the demons I left behind win, beat me.

Never.

My old arrogance returned, warming me as I stepped carefully from the puddle and found a patch of gravel not quite as dirty as the rest. Time to look around, assess my situation, make a plan for my next step-to find a way home to Demonicon.

What I saw was some kind of alley, what looked like a quiet street beyond, the building beside me filthy brick, the one opposite of hand-hewn stone, both fairly old. I kept seeing things move out of the corners of my very sensitive eyes, following such movement without my own volition. It really wouldn't do to just stand here for much longer, getting soaked by the rain and made disgusting by the dirty ground.

Where to go? I hesitated a long moment, unable to force myself to leave the alley. What if Ahbi had a change of heart, opened the veil and invited me home? Surely this was enough of a punishment and she would relent any moment now?

I had to stop fooling myself. There would be no rescue, no veil opening, no return to promise never to act out again. And besides, I knew in my heart even if Ahbi did invite me home, any oath I made her would be broken. I simply didn't have the heart to live the life they offered.

Which left me with this alternative. Fend for myself in a world I didn't know as a creature I knew nothing about. Very well then, only one thing to do. Forward it was.

Walking was awkward when I stopped to think about it rather than letting my new body move. The tail was the problem, really, until I raised it over my head like a beacon. At least then it was out of the way and not pushing my balance askew. Managing four feet instead of two required a certain amount of rhythm which I was fortunate to possess. I paced the length of the alley a few times to practice, hopping up on the odd fallen brick or loose board piled against the stone wall for practice.

Claws were an interesting addition, though extending and retracting them would be a bit of an adjustment. I knew if I just let my cat body take over I would have little to worry about, but the stubborn part of me who still insisted I was a demon, thank you very much, refused to listen or relent.

Until my cat eyes were drawn to movement, my ears swiveling to catch the soft sound of a growl, the pad of a large paw. I spun, tail smacking the ground, logged heavily with water, to find three large dogs pacing softly toward me.

My cat body tensed immediately. It seized control, shoving me down into a crouch, ears flat back, a moaning snarl coming from my mouth. All of my fur attempted to stand on end despite the wet. The dogs didn't pause, their lean, wiry muscles as bunched up as mine, fangs gleaming.

Dogs, indeed. Pathetic mutts. They dared challenge me? Without thinking, my demon past still a fresh memory, I reached for my power and slapped them aside.

Tried to, indeed I did. The flutter of my answering power was just enough to deflect the lead dog just as he lunged, sending him tumbling into the brick wall with a soft yip of pain. But the other two still came for me. Their leader pulled himself to his feet, shaking the rain out of his coat, before joining them in their advance again.

I stood there, shocked, knowing I had to move, but unable to believe I didn't even have enough power to defend myself. What was Haralthazar thinking? I slunk back, heart pounding, terror taking over.

And the cat I was welcomed my fear. The moment I sank far enough into it, my body responded without needing me to interfere. I spun, racing down the alley toward the quiet street, the dogs pounding behind me as my flight woke their instinct to chase and kill.

I heard them coming closer. Slap of paws, snapping teeth. I streaked out the end of the alleyway and dodged to the left. It was a race down the dirty sidewalk as the dogs missed the turn. Three starving canines, ribs showing in their patchy coats, entered my peripheral vision before coming after me again.

A second alley appeared on my left. I swerved into it just as a set of teeth closed over the end of my tail. I felt the jerk, pulled free with a howl of pain and fear, slipping under a loose pile of rubbish. Dog noses snuffled along the refuse pile, searching for me. I wormed my way through the debris, coat hooking on a nail, leaving a patch of fur behind from my right shoulder. I squirmed between two loose boards and climbed a third as fast as I could, claws digging into soaking wet wood.

I heard the dogs barking, turned as they leaped toward me, the lead mutt rattling my ladder, shaking my hind end loose. Death hovered below me, jaws wide, willing me to fall even as my front claws caught. I pulled with all my strength, back legs thrashing, hooking the edge of the board. My claws had just enough purchase to propel me forward and higher until I crouched on a windowsill. The ledge was barely wide enough for me to stand on while the lumber I'd climbed to reach safety fell with a clatter to the ground below, scattering the dogs.

I hovered there, heart beating so fast I felt certain it would stop from sheer exhaustion. Panting deep breaths through my mouth as my three attackers circled below, whining and pacing. A door opened, light shining out. A man's voice yelling at them, a rock thrown. With one final look upward they scattered, leaving me to inch my way across the sill to a large pile of garbage heaped beneath it.

The debris shifted slightly as I stepped down, but settled. On more secure footing, at least for now, I huddled as close as I could, tail wrapped around me, and tucked my nose under it, squeezing my eyes shut.

This couldn't be happening. I had to have at least enough power to save my own life from those who wanted to hurt me. But Haralthazar had left me what he could and I chose to believe it would be enough.

I was such a fool.

Water dripped continually on my fur. I caught myself licking at one paw, forcing myself to stop as my body tried to take over. How disgusting! And yet, when my paw raised yet again, my tongue sweeping at the filth, I found the act oddly comforting.

Too weary to do much more, I shoved and maneuvered myself a little depression in the stack of abandoned lumber and refuse, before curling into a tight ball and closing my eyes again. Sleep would do me good, rest. I hadn't had much, not since before the banquet. Was that really only tonight? Last night? Time could be different here.

The moment I began to drift, a sound woke me. Whiskers quivering, ears on constant swivel, I eased out of my little hole and came face-to-face with a pair of angry yellow eyes.

***