Feral Magic

cooks for you.”
Zak made to protest, and his face went red. “Yeah, well, she seems to enjoy it.” He scratched the back of his head and Vixin smiled at him and the shame now playing on his face. At least he’d appreciate his mother more when he returned home. Not that Zak seemed the type to take his mother for granted.
Vixin refocused her attention to the task at hand. They couldn’t sit here all night. Boxes lined the building and weapons hung along the walls. A lot of weapons. And armor. One would think these people were preparing for war. Is that what it’d come down to eventually? One faction fighting another?
Vixin crept toward the leather and carefully picked through it. She tugged on a piece, twisting the material in her hands before setting it down to examine another.
She donned a pair of forearm guards, then eyed some long knives hanging against the back wall. The craftsmanship was exquisite. Far better than what she carried now. Someone here knew what they were doing.
“Find anything worthwhile?” Zak eyed her weapons but made no move to reach for them.
“Yeah.” She tossed him a vest. “And this ought to fit you.”
“Thanks.” He glanced around. “So what now?”
“What kind of weapon do you prefer?”
“A sword.”
She clicked her tongue. “How typical.” Vixin ignored his ‘what did you expect’ smile and studied the weapons around the room until she eyed one suitable. She picked it up, tested it then, handed the blade to Zak.
He swung it once. “It’s light.”
“Speed is your friend in a fight. That other one you carry is too heavy. Just leave it here.”
“You sound like some old war veteran from the mid-century.”
“I’ll try to take that as a compliment. Friend.”
“Of course it’s a complement. How many girls do you think would even have a clue—”
“Shh.” Too late. She’d noticed too late.
Vines crawled up their legs, twisting themselves around both her and Zak’s limbs. Thorns grew from the stems and leaves unfurled in a pattern she recognized. Nothing deadly, but they pinned her arms before she could reach for her new weapons.
Both were lifted from the floor and five guards entered the room, each eyeing them with disdain. The vines holding them captive brought them forward, as if they were floating across the room.
A burly man with a receding hairline lifted his chin to examine them. He stood with one arm draped over his sword and knees bent. Ready. He wouldn’t go down easily.
“Looks like we’ve caught a couple of thieving rats.” He glanced her over and then eyed Zak.
Zak struggled and the vines clamped down on him, thorns digging into his flesh until he winced. She remained perfectly still.
Vixin cocked her head. “I wasn’t taking anything you’d miss.”
He stared at her for a moment, then a smile broke across his pockmarked face. “And you think that somehow justifies your actions?”
She tried to shrug. “I hadn’t planned on getting caught.”
He shook his head, still laughing. “Well, now you have been, and I don’t think you’re going to like the consequences.”
Vixin jerked her chin toward his guards. “If they were better at their jobs, I wouldn’t have been able to sneak in. Honestly, you should be thanking me. Or better yet, why not offer me a job? I’m sure I could teach your men a thing or two.”
He marched right up to her, the vein in his forehead bulging. She’d take a slap to the face for that one, but Zak’s voice broke the tension first. “Get away from her!”
The man paused, glanced at Zak, then gave him the most sickening smirk she’d ever seen. “Don’t worry, you can have her after she’s learned a lesson.” He licked his lips and lust-filled eyes ran along her body. “Or two.”
Just like that, her playfulness vanished. Despicable. The men behind him no different. She remembered a time when her father had warned her about such men. About how dire circumstances could change a person. How power could alter their core values, turn them into monsters or cowards. It was a rarity that people remained who they claimed to be.
Vixin glanced toward Zak, half wondering what kind of man he’d prove to be, but her lips parted upon seeing the fear on his face. Not fear for himself. No, far from it. His eyes darted from her face to the man with a wicked grin and then back to her. He struggled and, in that moment, she knew Zak wasn’t a coward. He bled as he fought against the thorns, but the blood rolling down his arms wasn’t for himself. He bled for her.
Vixin offered him a reassuring smile, but Zak didn’t return it. She shifted her attention back to the man still prattling on about what he was going to do to her. All the ways he might teach her a lesson. She’d all but drowned him out. Any moment now—
His companions hit the ground. Their vile leader spun around, his booming voice commanding them to stand until he grabbed his chest and sank to his knees alongside them. The vines fell from Vixin’s body and she rotated her wrists to bring circulation back to her limbs.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Their leader twisted around, spittle dripping from his mouth, but his face hit the dirt floor before he could utter another word.
The vines holding Zak captive fell at his feet. He stared in silence, looking from her to the motionless bodies sprawled before them.
“I don’t understand,” Zak whispered.
“Poison. Not the most exciting method to get rid of someone, but definitely effective.”
He gave her a blank stare.
“I hit their ankles with it earlier. I know you don’t like—”
Zak’s arms were around her before she could finish her sentence. Her first instinct was to put him on the ground, but