“Who—Who the fuck are you? Let go of him!”
Whatever kindness had been in his eyes vanished. Darkness overtook them, turning the blue to a deep, empty gray, and finally to black. They narrowed.
“Be silent.”
Her body flipped, feet leaving the floor. Airborne, she flew across the room. She tried to brace herself, tried to cover her face, but she couldn’t move at all. When she hit the pew, she hit it hard and cried out.
She rose from the pew, from the floor, lifting into the air as weightless as a feather. She stared into the empty eyes and fear swept through her. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t fight. “Stop! Stop it!”
“That’s enough, girl,” They said, emotionless and cold. “This ends now.”
Andy
A Little While Later
Andy pushed the notebook toward her mother. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She’d made a rough sketch but she didn’t doubt for a second that it matched their shared vision. She just needed the confirmation.
Mara sighed when she picked up the notebook. “Yes, that’s it. That’s the church. The windows are different but—”
“Details.” Andy waved it off. “It’s the place. That’s all that matters. Anyone recognize it?”
Vinnie peered over her mother’s shoulder to study the drawing. “No. I’ve never seen it. Then again, we’ve never really been… church people, have we? I mean, it’s not exactly our sort of thing.”
Mara smiled thinly. “My mother dragged me and my sisters to church when we were children. It never stuck with me, but my sisters….” She trailed off from the thought. “I know the church. It’s been around for a long time. Refurbished once or twice, if I’m not mistaken. Not one I ever attended, but I know of it. Abandoned now, I think.”
Mason hummed an affirmation.
Abandoned and dark, Andy thought. The vision had come and gone, but the details stuck. A church, stained-glass, Casey, and the darkness. Pervasive. Ominous. The darkness swallowed Casey whole.
Doom. Only doom.
“I know it too,” Neoma spoke softly. “It’s a part of the Underground, but only just.” She flicked her eyes to Andy.
“This just kept getting better and better. All right, then that’s it. We won’t have to scry.” Andy took back the sketch and studied it. It wasn’t familiar to her at all but there was something dark about it. “Why would she be there?”
Mason stared at her. “Speculation serves no point. Was the vision imminent?”
Her legs shook when she stood. Gods and she thought she couldn’t be any weaker. Magic always had a price and she paid it now.
“Yeah. You got it. Imminent as fuck.”
“Then we should hurry.” Behind Mason’s stone-like facade, Andy saw a hint of concern. “Are you ready?”
She knew what he’d really asked. She wasn’t that weak. Not yet. She took a deep breath and called upon her inner strength. It took some focus, but Andy drew on her remaining magic and the forces surrounding her. The renewal wouldn’t last for long, but it only had to last long enough.
“I’ll be fine.” Andy managed a smile.
Mason looked at her skeptically but nodded.
“Should we come?” Vinnie asked, uncertainly, gesturing to herself, Neoma, their mother.
“No, Vin. This is—it’s gonna be bad.” Andy would only worry about them if they tagged along. They could hold their own—Neoma and Mara, anyway—but not Vinnie.
Pink bloomed in her sister’s cheeks when she understood. “Oh… Okay.”
Ah, damn it. Why did Vinnie have to be so sensitive? Andy couldn’t focus on her hurt feelings right now. Her focus needed to be on saving Casey.
Mara came to the rescue. “It’s okay, sweetie. We could use your help here. We don’t know what to expect and we need to prepare for anything,” she said and glanced at Neoma, whose grim face reflected the truth of her words.
“Okay. Yeah, okay.” Vinnie wiped her hands on her jeans and turned back to Andy. “Go. Help her. Please,” she said, palpable worry in her voice.
Andy turned to Mason. “Will you take the lead? Poof us there? I’m saving my strength.”
“Of course.”
“Good luck,” Mara offered.
Luck? Yeah right.
Teleportation was probably her favorite way to travel. It beat borrowing her mother’s car, and no risk of dents either. What a huge convenience to be able to instantly appear at any destination. She never feared being late.
But this time, it was a very real fear. They might not get there in time.
The walls of the Kindheart Coven melted away. The temperature dropped and Andy inhaled sharply. Inside the church, the darkness pressed in. It always took one or two seconds to adjust to a new environment. Andy had learned to adapt pretty quickly. Shaking off her disorientation, she gave her surroundings a quick check. Her gaze swept the interior of the darkened church and settled on Casey, seated before the altar.
Her knees were drawn up to her chest with her arms at her side and her head erect. She stared straight ahead, right at them, with wide eyes. Her lower lip trembled. Around her, sigils etched into the floor pulsed with a red glow. A perfect circle surrounded her.
Shit.
A summoning circle. More than that, Andy knew, when she recognized many of the symbols. Her breath caught. A sacrificial summoning circle that required blood. Death.
They’d been wrong. It wasn’t Andy’s blood after all. Any blood would do. Casey’s blood.
Fuck!
The emanations of power were incredible, breathtaking, and the chill sank down into her bones. Thick magic hung in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Every time she did, something of that force seeped into her. Through her skin, her mouth, her eyes. Everything hummed.
Mason stood straight and tall beside her, his gaze fixed too on the circle surrounding Casey. He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw. His arm, loose at his side, moved with the gentle motion of his curling fingers. He spindled the power between his fingers and a subtle red glow formed as the energy took on a tangible form.
“The circle,” he murmured. “We need to disable the circle.”
“No shit.” Her shoes made little sound as she walked down the aisle.
“Andy—Andy, I can’t move.” Casey’s voice wavered.
“That’s a good thing right now because we’re gonna need you to be absolutely still. We’re gonna bust through this circle, all right?” She spoke calmly, trying not to incite a panic.
The power swelled the closer she edged. Just as she feared, the circle was also a barrier. It would take hefty spells to break through it but they could do it. Andy always came prepared and Mason never had to worry. They’d have the circle down in no time.
A knot formed in the center of her stomach. Oh, it wouldn’t be that simple. Great.
Mason stepped up beside her. He stretched out one hand and the glow of magic in his palm grew brighter. His eyes narrowed slightly, lips set into a thin line. With slow steps, he walked the circumference of the circle.
“Is this gonna take long?” Casey asked, with more bravado in her voice. The presence of two powerful witches seemed to bolster her confidence.
“Why? You got a hot date? Somewhere you need to be?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m dying to get outta here.”
Dying. If Casey knew she was in the middle of a death circle, she might’ve chosen her words more carefully.
Mason returned to her side, stone-faced with concentration. Both palms burned red and black.
A cold chill raced through her. Andy pulled her arms around herself to stave off the cold. “Well?”
“This power is familiar. I have encountered it before. And recently.”
Andy didn’t doubt that. She unfolded her arms, letting her hands drop to her side. Tendrils of magic immediately passed between her fingers and curled around her hands. Damn, was it strong. She wanted to drink it all in.
She took in a deep breath and force
d herself to ignore the allure of the coven’s magic. “Yeah? How recently? The demon summonings?”
“Yes. A few hours ago. It is the same as what channeled through the revenant.” His brows drew together.
Damn. Andy crouched to peer at the markings on the floor. She recognized most of them but a few were a mystery. Darkness. Death. Chaos. She knew enough to understand.
“The demons that have been summoned over the past few months… they came from here.” The barrier around the circle pulsed when she neared it—and it buzzed when her finger brushed it. A shock jolted her and Andy jerked her hand back. “We need to get her out of there right now.” How much stronger was this power inside the circle? No wonder Casey couldn’t move. Even someone like her, someone with no magical aptitude had to feel it pressing in on all sides. Crushing her. “Do you know how to break it?”
“I have already attempted. My magic barely touches the exterior. This is cumulative power. This is the work of many strong witches.”
Andy rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Then we’ll pool what we have together. Your magic, my magic. We can call Mom and Neoma. Wren. Even Vinnie, if we have to. We’ll redirect the magic. Whatever it takes.”
“Then we must hurry.” Mason side-stepped to get into position. Andy mimicked him until she stood opposite him outside the circle. He stretched out both glowing hands until they met the invisible barrier. The air vibrated.
Andy barely pressed her hands to the barrier and it struck her all at once. As shocking as jumping into a pool of ice-cold water, it took her breath away. She couldn’t move. Her limbs were frozen, mouth open and slack. Her eyes rolled back.
Gods. This was power. It had been such a long time since she’d sampled the Hallowed Circle’s brand of magic. It invaded her senses, foreign and familiar. Fuck, a witch could get used to it again.
“Andy!”
Casey’s shriek came too late.
The wave waylaid her, took her off guard. She careened through the air, into the pews, and slid along the floor. She rolled and tried to right herself.
Another wave struck harder and, this time, her back collided with the wall. She winced, unable to cry out. Pressed into the wall, she couldn’t move either. On the other side of the church, she saw Mason pinned too.
The revenant’s arms stretched out in a perfect T between them—one hand pointed to Mason, the other at Andy. Power channeled through the corpse, threads of it visible in black and red upon the skin.
“You’re too late,” They said. Their voice reverberated with enough power to rattle the stained glass. Dead eyes locked onto Andy’s.
Slowly, the revenant’s eyes filled with black. Spilled ink, it looked like, tainting the iris, the sclera until nothing remained of them. The smile They gave her sported equal parts cruelty and superiority.
It chilled Andy right down to her bones, but she still managed a defiant, “Fuck you.”
“How very rude,” They said coldly. “Now what are We going to do about that, hmm?”
Gods, she didn’t want to know.
Patrick
Tears were more than he could bear.
Fits of rage, emotional outbursts—Patrick could handle. Amelia had been prone to quick anger and his daughter had the same white-hot rage. He could handle anger, could deflect rage.
But not tears. Not pain. Not fear.
And he saw that and more upon her face. Absolute anguish. She screamed something, but he didn’t hear her. Raw magic roared in his ears, deafening him to anything else. He wanted to tear his eyes from Casey, still bound in the circle, but he could not. He could do nothing but what They commanded.
Powerful and powerless all at once.
Mason and Andy strained against the powerful bonds holding them in place. Andy put up the most struggle, her blue eyes bright with fury and indignation. “Let us go!”
No, They would never relent. “Quiet now or I will quiet you permanently.” A well-placed silencing spell would suffice, but so would ripping out the tongue. Either or. Patrick hoped for their sake they listened.
Power rushed from him like an extension of his arm. They were strong. It happened before he knew it. Mason flew to the back of the church. Pews broke apart with incredible force as They tossed him back and forth and shook him like a rag doll.
“No!” Andy shouted.
Mason dropped to the floor and went still.
“You piece of shit!”
Patrick had been called many things over the years. Piece of shit. Bastard. Fuck-up. He bore them all with the same dismissive attitude, with apathy. He didn’t care. He’d known what kind of person he was and he made few apologies for it. And though Andy’s words were directed at the ones controlling him, she wasn’t completely wrong.
He was a piece of shit.
But They didn’t take kindly to the insult. They threw Andy too, her body tossed aside with no more consideration than a child discarding a toy. She yelled when she hit the floor then went silent.
They turned quickly to the right and intercepted Mason as he rushed forward. The man moved fast, quicker than anything Patrick had seen before. It was startling. He might have jumped, had he been in control of himself. But They—They stood ground easily. It didn’t surprise them at all and They lifted his hands. Red flashed, the air crackled, and Mason vanished in the pulse of violent and forceful magic.
“What did you do?” Andy stood, feet planted apart. “Where did you send him?” Her hands balled into fists and she thrust them forward. Her purple-tinged magic struck its mark. They tumbled back across the floor but Patrick felt nothing. He never felt anything. Feet sought traction and found it and They pulled themselves up, standing taller. Magic cascaded around Them and filled the space between witch and revenant.
Andy’s hair spilled into her face and she shoved it back. One hand extended and trembled with the effort. Fury darkened her eyes from blue to gun-metal gray. The glow of energy surrounding her made her resplendent and ethereal, hair lifting from her face and shoulders. She became a terrible, reckoning force.
The borrowed magic coursing through his dead body withstood her onslaught. Energies pushed one against the other, sparking apart like opposing magnets. Neither moved, rooted in place, fighting the surge swelling before them. Andy broke first. Magic thrust her back into the wall. Once again, They held her firmly immobile.
“You’re weak, girl. You didn’t save your strength at all.” An English accent barely touched the words. His mouth twisted to accommodate them. Lips pulled tightly, cracking the skin around his mouth.
“Where did you send him?” she demanded. “What did you do with Mason? Where did you send him?”
“He won’t be permanently damaged. He’s resilient. He was in the way, you know.” The words had a bite to them.
“Bring him back.”
Vision blurred. Darkness descended within his mind. The world went fuzzy and wavered. The power around his body lessened and the hum of it became a low purr. Then nothing.
Andy spoke fast, lips moving quickly to throw out words and curses imbued with her immense power.
“Dimittere eum,” she said, eyes locked with his. The world grew hazy again. Those words—he didn’t have to understand them to know their meaning. “Dimittere eum!”
Release him! Release him!
For the first time in years, fresh pain tore through his body. It ripped apart the inside of his head and a scream echoed and bounced until he could no longer stand it. His skull filled with Them, with pain and fighting and hate. He was overflowing, unable to stop it, unable to do anything more than be wrenched apart by power and wills not his own.
“Dimittere eum!”
“No!” The word forced its way from his throat. Power erupted in a violent rush and the pain vanished. They—They’d won this round. “You cannot send Us away, Andromeda. You’re no necromancer.”
“My name is Andy, you fuck—” Her words cut off abruptly. Her mouth opened, moved, but no sound came out. She gasped f
or air, unable to breathe, and her eyes widened in fear.
“That’s enough!”
They released her from the chokehold. Andy sucked in a breath, coughing loudly once or twice, and was silent. Her glare spoke volumes. With Andy sufficiently subdued, They turned him, finally, to face Casey.
It struck him how much she looked like Amelia. She had the same big, cornflower blue eyes. She wore her dirty blonde hair in a similar style—pulled back in a high ponytail. The only difference was the sweeping pieces of bright pink framing her face. Fear took away her color and made her peaked and small.
How old was she now? Patrick had tried to figure it out, once, but time became such an unreliable thing. Days, weeks, months, years—they all blended together in muddled confusion.
Casey lifted her head. Bruises on her throat darkened with the circle’s red light. He’d done that, hadn’t he? Or They had. Still, it had been his hands tightening around her throat.
Anger and contempt flashed in her eyes. Her cheeks glistened with tears. Trapped and unable to move, her body trembled. “Stop it. Let us go.”
Patrick wanted to tell her it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t himself. He’d been dead for years. They were controlling him.
Maybe it was his fault. If he hadn’t been so stupid to go chasing after witches on a quest for vengeance, he would never have died. They never would’ve ended up here. Though he could shift the blame to any number of sources, the truth remained—it was on his hands. Casey knew it too, when he looked into her eyes and saw the fear and anger within them.
And he couldn’t even apologize.
They said nothing at all but stepped forward with Patrick trapped inside his skin and bent to face Casey. The ceremonial dagger appeared in hand. It’s dangerous blade caught the light. “No,” They said simply before They withdrew and stood.
It all became so clear. Patrick understood. Fear gripped him but he couldn’t fight back. The end—They’d reached the end. All those endless months and years of building power—it led to now, to this moment. He couldn’t stop it. No one could. They raised the dagger for its deadly strike.
Witch Way: The New Ashton Chronicles Page 14
