by R L Medina
Javi moved to the window, pushing back the curtains. “They’ll be fine. The GRIMMs will take care of them.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
I just hoped he was right. The thought of either of them hurt—or worse—because of me made my stomach sick.
“You shouldn’t have come for me, Javi. You shouldn’t have come to the club.”
He whipped to me, eyes furious. “Don’t. Don’t do that, Rose. You’re family. I never should have let you go alone in the first place.”
I blinked back tears.
“But, Javi—”
“We have to go,” he cut me off.
Grayson stood, holding his gun, watching our exchange. His face was a mask of coolness that left me unsettled. Was he seriously still mad about being out of the loop?
“The window warded?” he asked Javi.
“Of course.”
“Well, let’s get it open before the witches come back.”
“What do you think I’m doing, Chapman?”
Grayson threw up a hand and shouted a chant. The windows flew open with a bang. Javi stepped back and motioned me forward. I stared down at the street below. My head spun. That was no small drop. Moonlight shone on the buildings around us, revealing broken windows, peeled paint, and empty rooms. Were we still in the city?
“Where are we?”
“Looks like the old Witches square,” Grayson answered me.
“I’ll go first and create a landing to cushion your fall.” Javi took charge.
Before we could move, the bedroom doors burst open. Grayson was first to attack, using a chant to keep the witches from advancing. Javi’s hand shot out, casting his own magic.
They tore through their invisible barrier like tissue paper. Javi fired his gun. The bullets dropped to the floor and dissolved into thin air.
My eyes widened. To see magic at work in the movies was one thing but seeing it for real was terrifying. We were so completely inadequate against the coven. Fear took over, my whole body tensed.
The guy witch from before strode in, this time unhooded. His young, freckled face and long, tussled, brown hair made him look harmless. Like someone you’d see hanging out in a skatepark not here with a bunch of evil witches.
His brown eyes narrowed on me, a small, triumphant smile on his face. My hackles rose.
He swept a hand across the room. An icy cold buried in my skin, making me shiver. I turned to find Javi and Grayson enduring the same assault.
What was happening to us? I couldn’t move. My body stood, frozen at their mercy. Panic clawed up my throat.
“Take them to the supreme,” the witch spoke with authority.
The others rushed Grayson and Javi, who continued to struggle against the burning cold grip holding us in place.
My heart stuck in my throat. In unison the witches threw their hands out and chanted. Javi and Grayson’s eyes rolled back.
They dropped to the floor with an echoing thud.
“No! What did you do to them?” My voice rose an octave.
I tried to move toward them but couldn’t go anywhere.
My eyes shot to the lead witch. A quiet rage slithered through my chest. He’d pay for what he’d done. I didn’t know how or when, but I vowed revenge.
“Let them go.”
His gaze locked onto me. “The supreme will decide their fate. And you will face yours when its time. There is no escaping fate.”
I glared at him. “Fu—”
A blow landed hard across my face. Dark spots danced around me, my head spinning from the hit. Blind fury filled me. I looked to the witch who’d struck me, seething as blood coated my tongue.
Her eyebrows raised in warning. My muscles strained under the icy hold, my hand itching to strike back. To hurt them like they’d hurt me.
She raised her hand once more. I didn’t flinch. I refused to show them my fear.
“Leave her,” the male witch ordered.
They moved away, two of them grabbing Javi and Grayson. My throat turned dry. No.
“Let them go! I swear I’ll do whatever you want. Just let them go.”
The door slammed shut, making me flinch. A hollowness filled me. Whatever magic hold they’d put me in disappeared as soon as they left. I flew to the door and turned the knob. Locked.
My heart sank. Pounding on the door, I screamed a stream of profanity. My voice was raw, and my fist burned with pain. Giving up the fight, I crumpled to the floor.
Silence surrounded me. Visions, horrible visions flashed in my mind. What would the witches do to them? I threw my head into my hands and sank into despair. Fear and sorrow. Regret and anger.
They were in trouble and it was my fault. I was useless against the witches. Hot tears pricked my eyes. Why didn’t my parents prepare me? I could have helped if I knew what to do. If I’d had more training.
I scoffed. Even with their training, Javi and Grayson didn’t stand a chance. None of us did. Not when it came to such power. How could we ever hope to win against it?
Pain filled me. There was nothing I could do and for the first time in my life, I wished I was a GRIMM. A real one that could stand against the coven. Someone more powerful than even the supreme.
A wizard.
My shoulders slumped. That’s what we needed now—a real wizard. But I didn’t even know where to begin to look for him.
“You did a crappy job of helping me, Mama.”
The bitterness in my voice made me cringe. Jaded at 17. This was so far from the life I expected to have. So unfair it made my chest burn.
You don’t get to choose. Tío’s words echoed in my ears.
I swiped away tears from my face. He was right. I hated it, but he was right.
The candles around the room flickered and died one by one, leaving me in pitch blackness. Even the moonlight didn’t shine through the curtains. Trying the door once more, I let out an angry breath. Still locked.
Pushing away the dark thoughts of what the others were enduring, I sank to the ground once more, bracing my back against the door.
If the witches returned for me, I’d be crushed, but I didn’t care. There was no way in hell I was going to sleep in the bed where who knew how many women had given birth in. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I inhaled the melted wax and musty smell. I closed my eyes and forced my mind to focus on the positives. There weren’t many. If Javi and Grayson followed me through the portal, maybe the other GRIMMs weren’t far behind. Maybe Tío would come.
My lips twisted in a wry smile. For once, I’d be thrilled to see my tío. Guilt filled me. He’d warned me, but I didn’t listen. If I’d stayed locked in their mansion… done as I was told, would the witches have still come?
I shook away the thoughts. It was too late now to change the past and there was no way of knowing what the outcome would have been had I stayed. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I rested my head against the door and listened for any voices or movement on the other side.
Only silence came.
Shuddering, I opened my eyes to scan the darkness. An idea sparked in my mind. The witches used conduits the same as us. Could there be something in the room that was still spelled or enchanted? Something I could use to escape? The thought gave me hope. I rose to my feet and squinted against the blackness. Feeling more confident, I moved slowly, hands outstretched as I tried to recall the layout of the room.
Bed. Cradle. Rocking chair. Tub. Toys.
My mind raced. Could the bed have enchanted metal? Or the wood? There was such a thing as wood magic, but only if the wood had come from a dryad. I bit my lip and shuffled toward where I thought the cradle would be.
That seemed the most likely to be enchanted. A chill went through me. Even if it were enchanted, how would I use it? There weren’t many chants I remembered, and my magic ability was pretty much nonexistent. I’d barely even begun the proper training, but I had to try.
This was our only hope. I pushed myself forward. I was no wizard, but I was
a GRIMM. I could do this. My knee collided with something solid, pain sparking. The cradle?
I reached down and squinted at the dark outline. My hands ran along the edge. Smooth and cool.
“Alright. Now just think of… something.”
Doubt filled me. I couldn’t sense anything special about the wood, but did that mean it wasn’t enchanted?
“I really should have paid more attention in class.” My words echoed around me.
Placing a firm hand on the cradle, I waited for it to stop swinging back and forth. I closed my eyes and tried to still my mind.
“Pulto.”
Nothing.
Not even a little spark came to me. My cheeks flamed. It was pointless. Magic wasn’t like in all the books and movies. It was hard. Really freaking hard. There were just too many steps, too many complex elements that had to come together. That and I sucked at it.
A harsh laugh escaped me. “You could have at least left me a little more help, Mom. Something.”
Dismissing the angry thoughts, I scurried toward the toy shelf, careful to skirt the edge of the bed and avoid more bruising. My lip curled. The bed would be the last thing I tried.
I reached a hand above my head, feeling for the wall. Coldness seeped into my skin as I ran across the peeling wallpaper and landed on the shelf. I blinked and fought the urge to shudder as I felt the rough fabric of a dress. Moving my hand to the porcelain face, I tried to concentrate.
There was nothing there. No strange sensation or wobbly vision. Refusing to give up, I skipped to the next toy and did the same. Nothing. When I reached the end of the shelf, I admitted defeat.
I could still try the rocking chair, the bed, or the tub. Though I began to doubt I’d find anything enchanted or spelled. If the witches thought I was GRIMM trained, they would be smart enough to remove anything I could use as a weapon.
Anger bit into me. The sad thing was, even if they had slipped and left something behind, it wouldn’t have mattered.
Sighing, I retraced my steps back toward the giant bed and reached out to touch the wooden headboard.
“Come on. This has to work.”
When nothing happened, I slammed my fist against the board, wincing as pain speared through me.
The pain anchored me to the present. I was not giving up. I couldn’t. Not when Javi and Grayson needed me. And Shiloh and Brady… a lump grew in my throat. The wolves. Everyone who’d tried to help me. Help me escape the fate my mom promised me to.
A promise made in blood cannot be undone. There is no escaping fate.
I shuddered at the memory of the words. Giving up now would only seal my future, but I was tired. So tired of fighting and running. I blinked back tears and scanned the darkness.
“No. This can’t be the end. I won’t let them win.”
Papi’s face flashed in my mind. Sorrow spread within me as I envisioned what he’d say. What he would do. He wouldn’t give up. I knew that.
I’m trying, Papi. I promise, I’m trying.
14
The night was long and hard. After exhausting myself trying every chant I could think of, I’d fallen into a fitful sleep.
When I woke with a start, the memories of the past events came crashing around me. My heart twisted in pain. Was it morning yet? Still night? Only blackness greeted me.
Footsteps sounded outside my door, making me scramble to a stand. When the witches came, I would not be laying on the floor like the beaten animal they wanted me to be.
The door flew open, and the candles lit once more. Sweat grew on my palms. Fire magic? Seeing herself in, the supreme stopped in front of me. Our eyes locked.
Hatred coiled deep within me. This woman had stolen too much from me. She stood there, unfazed, untouchable. Like a god, unconcerned with my feeble existence. I loathed her with every fiber of my being.
As if reading my thoughts, she cocked her head.
“You couldn’t even break a lock?” Her sultry voice was unnerving.
I didn’t answer.
She tossed her black curls behind her shoulder and studied me. The flames around us grew, filling the room with warmth and a yellow glow that made her look otherworldly.
My fists clenched. She was otherworldly. Unnatural. Human on the surface, but something else entirely.
“It’s time to move you with the others.” She folded her hands in front of herself and watched me expectantly.
I bristled. If she thought I was going anywhere without a fight, she was dead wrong.
“Where are my friends?”
Her eyebrow arched at me outburst. “Friends?”
Anger stirred in my blood. “Where are they?”
I was in no mood for her games. She’d already caught me in her web. There was no reason to play cat and mouse now.
“The GRIMMs?”
My heart skipped. Forcing the fear off my face, I glared at her.
“I could tell you, but I don’t think you really want to know.”
Her words rattled me. Made me shrink inside myself. A numbness spread deep within me. Dead. Were they dead? I blinked back the angry tears threatening to spill.
I would not cry in front of her.
“Come along, Rosita. It’s time for you to meet the others.”
I snarled. Hearing my name on her lips made me want to unleash the holy rage inside me. I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my myself before I did something stupid. Like jumping her and throttling that long neck of hers.
I was no coward, but I was no idiot either. She wouldn’t kill me yet, but she could still hurt me. I needed to bide my time and wait until I had the upper hand.
Then I could strike.
Not waiting for me to comply the witches grabbed a hold of my arms and dragged me forward. The courage I’d tried to conjure slipped. Panic hit.
No. Fight. You have to fight!
Even as my instincts screamed at me, I knew it was useless. My foot swung out, trying to connect with one of my captors, my body going into survival mode even though my mind knew it was hopeless.
I writhed and thrashed like someone possessed. Adrenaline pumping through me. A ringing sounded in my ears, piercing and high as it drowned out the inhuman sounds coming from me.
Tired of my hysterics, the supreme threw her hand up. A bolt of power hit me, making me reel. The room spun around me, and my stomach jumped to my throat. Was I falling? I reached out trying to grab onto something, anything. Then, I blacked out.
Voices murmured around me. My eyes flew open. Pain radiated through every part of me, making my stomach church. I sat up and stifled a groan. I blinked the fog away trying to catch up to the present.
Faces stared back at me—unfamiliar faces. Luna Negra. I recoiled, the movement making my head pound.
Glancing around the room, I tried to steel myself.
Twelve. There were twelve of them and only one of me. We were in some dimly lit basement and it smelled like rotting wood. The light overhead flickered and water dripped from somewhere, the sound echoing loudly in the silence.
One of the witches approached me. She didn’t look much older than me, but her blue eyes were shrewd and hard, her lips pinched tightly together.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
I bristled at her tone. Giving her my falsest smile, I rose to my feet and met her stare.
“Who are you?”
Her face scrunched up as if trying to figure out if I was being difficult or just stupid.
“I’m Ash,” she finally replied.
Not expecting her easy response, I hesitated. Were these witches part of the coven? They didn’t look dangerous. All of them were young, but their eyes held a haunted look that spoke of a jaded past.
Like me.
“Don’t give her your name,” a boy hissed.
I tore my eyes away from the girl and looked at him. His dark brown eyes reminded me of Javi. Sorrow pierced me like an arrow. Where was my cousin? Was he okay?
“Shut up, James. She’
s one of us,” the girl, Ash, retorted.
Fury swept through me. “I am not one of you.”
Her brow furrowed. “Then why are you down here with us?”
My mouth dropped open. Confusion washed over me. The last thing I remembered was the supreme ordering me to be taken… to the others.
“Aren’t you a firstborn?” the girl pressed.
Firstborn. Pledged to the coven. The blood oath.
Cold dread washed over me. I was one of them.
The boy leaned toward Ash. “She could be a spy.”
My eyes snapped to his. “I’m not a spy. I… I am a firstborn.”
Ash shot him a look equivalent to ‘told you so.’
He shook his head at me, distrust written on his face. The others watched the exchange, their reactions a mixture of disbelief and fear.
A girl stepped forward, eyes wide with fright. “If she’s a firstborn… then…”
“They have all 13 of us,” Ash finished. Her eyes bore into mine, sharp and accusing.
One of the youngest looking witches burst into tears. The broken sob echoed around us, ringing in my ears. Fear crawled up my spine.
“All 13 of us… for what?” My voice barely concealed the growing panic.
The boy, James, curled his lip at my question. “The ritual, dumbass.”
My cheeks flamed. I glared at him. “Well, excuse me. Your supreme didn’t exactly lay out her whole evil plan wh—”
“She is NOT our supreme.” Ash jabbed a finger at me, her eyes furious.
Angry murmurs of agreement sounded. The little girl broke into more sobs. I scanned their faces, hope flaring to life. These weren’t enemies. No. These were allies. We all wanted the same thing—to not be killed by the coven and unlike me, these were trained witches. Maybe, together, we actually had a chance of surviving, of escaping.
“When is the ritual?” I looked to Ash, who I assumed was the leader.
She shrugged. “We don’t know. We’ve been locked down here for too long. I don’t even know what the date is right now.”
I grunted. “I couldn’t tell you either.”
My heart twisted with pity for them. How long had they been trapped there, waiting for death? Some of them still glared daggers at me, but I couldn’t blame them. After all, I was the last mark for the ritual. Now that I was there, their time—our time—was up.
