Dark Bound

by Kim Richardson

  When my vision cleared for a few seconds, I could see the tips of her shoes bordering the circle. Just one more step. Come on, you old hag. Just one more step.

  Evanora watched my face, and then she looked at her feet. Her hard expression shifted and I saw the realization dawn on her at what I’d just attempted. Shit.

  It was her turn to smile at me. “Nice try.” Evanora drew back. Air flew into my lungs as I collapsed on the pentagram.

  “Rowyn, just tell her where the damn book is,” yelled Jax. “It’s not worth your life.”

  Evanora’s milky white eye rolled towards Jax. A small whimper escaped me, but I knew it was too late.

  “If you hurt any of my friends,” I screamed, thrashing madly, “the Gray Council will hunt every single last one of your stupid coven asses, and they’ll burn you. You hear me! And I’ll be dancing around the fire. Naked.” I threw myself at the invisible shield, again and again. But it was no use. I couldn’t break it.

  I looked across at Jax. His face was pale and his eyes were wide. He was bracing himself for the pain that was coming. Not Jax. Please not him.

  The witch spat a word or two, and then Evanora raised her open palm, flickering sparkles of black energy from her fingertips.

  A hurtling black sphere struck Jax in the left shoulder and exploded into shards of black ice. He let out a short, harsh grunt of pain and sank to the floor, trembling as the effects of the dark magic coursed through him.

  The blonde witch clapped her hands and jumped in the air, her eyes wide with amusement. “Do it again, Evanora! Cut his pretty flesh. Oh, so pretty, pretty, pretty. Where are your mighty angels now, eh? Angel-born,” taunted the witch, looking mad with her large eyes and matted hair as though she’d never brushed it once in her life. She walked slowly around Jax and stopped on his right, pleasure dancing in her eyes at his pain.

  I shivered to see Jax in such pain. I knew how he felt. When I saw the blood trickling from his ears, I let out a cry as my eyes filled with tears.

  A guttural growl escaped me, deep and vicious. I didn’t know where the sound came from—my inner beast, I guess. Maybe it was from my demon heritage or maybe it was my angel blood, but I was pissed. I wanted to kill this witch. No doubt she knew as soon as I was free, her ass was mine.

  “If I tell you where it is,” I said, swallowing, “will you promise to let me and my friends go?” It was a long shot. The hag had me by the balls, but it was worth a try. Who knew, maybe she could keep her word. “They had nothing to do with this. I stole your damn book, not them.”

  Bones cracked as Evanora turned her attention back to me. “Tell Evanora where the book is or he dies.”

  The blonde witch laughed and I glowered at her. You’re next, I told her with my eyes, but she just smiled at me.

  The problem was, I’d hidden the grimoire at my grandmother’s for safe keeping now that Degamon had seen it. I couldn’t risk leaving it at my apartment. But there was no way in hell I was going to give these dark witches my grandmother’s address. They would kill her. Torture her, then kill her. I would never let that happen.

  “It’s at St. Joseph’s church,” I lied, hoping that Father Thomas could handle a few witches. “Hidden in the archives in the basement. It’s hallowed ground. You can’t get through,” I lied again, knowing full well that dark witches could easily access the church being part human. Seeing Evanora’s smile, she knew it too.

  The old witch’s grin was both terrifying and revolting. “Evanora will get her book back.”

  “Okay,” I said, shaking inside. “A deal’s a deal. You know where your damn book is, now let us go.” I doubted she was going to let Tyrius go without a fight, but I would definitely smack that white eye out of her head to get him back. I raised my fists. “Let me out.”

  Evanora hobbled to the back of the room towards the long table. When she turned around she had a golden cup in her left hand and a dagger in her right.

  “Evanora is going to bleed you,” said the witch, as she shambled towards me, “bleed you to your very last drop.”

  Suddenly, the entire coven went to the table and when they moved away from it, they all had similar cups in their hands.

  A sliver of fear ran up my spine. “I gave you the book,” I said, my voice shaking. I couldn’t help it. “We had a deal.” I looked at Jax and he slowly pushed himself against the wall, the traces of pain staining his face.

  The old witch crossed the room until she stood next to the circle. “Evanora will not abide to those restrictions anymore. You are the exception to every rule, every law.” Her lips thinned from a past anger, and she pointed the dagger at me. “Evanora wanted her book back, but she also wanted you. Your blood. Your blood is a gift to the coven. It holds more power than you know. It will make Evanora more powerful than any dark or light witch combined. Shadow and light flows in your veins and Evanora wants it. All of it.”

  Bile rose up in the back of my throat. “You’re sick. You’re a seriously twisted bitch.”

  The old witch thought if she drank my blood, it would give her power. Was that even possible? Was the source of my power in my blood? Evanora seemed to think so. Maybe she was right.

  My heart sped up at the greed and desire for power in her small eyes. Evanora’s triumphant, toothy smile made my blood turn to ice.

  Whatever I was, the other witches all stared at me with starving, feverish eyes like I was some juicy steak.

  But they weren’t going to eat me. They were going to drink me to death.

  17

  “My blood is poison,” I said, hating the hunger in her smile. “It’s toxic. The archangel told me just before I killed him.” Crap, I shouldn’t have said that. “Just one drop and it will kill you. You’ll die a very painful death. Slow, I imagine.”

  Evanora chuckled. Lips moving, she raised her daggered hand and I was thrown on my back as a weight held me down, my arms and legs splayed out. I was paralyzed. Fear pounded through me, but I couldn’t move.

  I hated dark witches. And now I think I hated them even more than faeries.

  “Rowyn!” This time Tyrius’s frightened voice shattered my soul. I had failed him. I should have never stolen that stupid book. Look what it had brought me. He would be her slave now. She would use him and drain him. Maybe even kill him.

  I couldn’t even see him. When I tried to move my head, it was as though it was cemented to the ground.

  The sound of metal rattling reached me mixed with a heartfelt growl. I knew Tyrius was beating on his cage. He was trying to get out. Trying to save me.

  Hot tears spilled from the corners of my eyes into my hair. My lips trembled, and I couldn’t stop them as an ache throbbed from my chest to my throat. This wasn’t how I’d imagined my death. I always thought I’d die in battle, standing up with dignity. A badass. Not lying down, helpless like a chicken ready to be slaughtered.

  “Evanora Crow will be the most powerful witch that ever was,” said the old witch as she knelt down next to my right wrist. “Eternal power,” her milky white eye was spinning. “Immortal.”

  “Screw you,” I seethed, unable to spit in her face—because I would have if I could move my head. “I’m going to come back as a ghost and haunt your ass, witch.”

  Evanora laughed, and then she sliced the blade across my wrist.

  I hissed at the initial pain, but it was nothing compared to the disgust I felt as she caught my blood with her cup, licking her lips, careful not to damage the circle.

  Bile rose up in the back of my throat again and it took some effort to push it back down. If I vomited now, I might choke on it. A lame way to die.

  The hairs on my arms rose at the sound of sudden loud chanting. The chanting took on an edge of vicious, spiteful satisfaction and continued to rise in pitch until it sounded almost like shouting.

  To my horror, the hooded witch removed his cowl and knelt to my left. I could only see half of his face in my paralysis. Candle light reflected off his dark bald head, h
is skin nearly as dark as his black robes.

  And then something hard slashed across my left wrist and I felt the cold metal of another cup press against my skin.

  “Bastards!” I shouted as loudly as I could over the thunderous chanting, blinking back my blurred vision. “You’ll pay for this! I swear it on the souls. I’ll kill you! I’ll freaking kill you all!”

  The last part came out more in a sob as my throat closed up.

  This is really happening. I am really going to die this time—

  There was a loud bang, followed by the sound of footsteps hurtling down to the basement.

  “You!” I heard Evanora cry out, sounding both surprised and outraged. Grimacing, she pushed herself straight, cradling the cup with some of my blood protectively against her chest. “How dare you interrupt Evanora!” Her shock transformed into snarling anger in a heartbeat, and spit flew out of her mouth.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the black witch dart forward, black energy spheres in his hands as he screamed words of some incantation.

  What the hell was happening? Dark figures ran around my line of sight, but I couldn’t make out anything. My stupid eyes were on the ceiling. Cries and incantations sounded all around me, followed by the horrid sound of flesh being torn and the fast, thrashing sound of fists pounding on soft flesh. Again. And again. And again.

  The witches were fighting. But fighting who?

  My skin tingled and I felt a release, like a sudden unleash of a tight rope that had bound my limbs to the floor.

  I was free. I could move again.

  I rolled to my side and my eyes found him. Shirtless and barefoot, the goth-rockstar-finger-licking-good-drop-dead-gorgeous-brooding vampire snapped the neck of the black witch and tossed him easily to the floor.

  Danto.

  And what a sight for sore eyes he was. Even if he was a vamp, I could have kissed him. And he had brought two of his posse—a female vamp with black pigtails with purple tips wearing sunglasses and a thin lanky male vamp with fair hair and skin. I almost smiled.

  A dark figure ran forward towards Danto, dagger in hand. From the shadow of the wall, the witch sprang at the vampire. With impossible speed, Danto ducked to the side and sank his teeth into the witch’s neck. The witch’s eyes went wide, and I recognized the horror in them.

  “Payback’s a bitch,” I snarled and watched as Danto bit down with such force I heard the snap of bone, and then the witch collapsed to the floor.

  I pulled myself to my knees and inspected my wrists. Crap. They were in bad shape. The cuts were deep and my blood trickled down my arm. The wounds would heel, but I needed to stop the bleeding fast. Ripping the edge of my shirt, I made two makeshift bandages and wrapped them tightly around my wrists. Then, gathering up what energy I had left, I stood. Head spinning, I ignored the sudden nausea and straightened. Jax was sitting on the ground, sawing at his bonds with something sharp. He looked up and our eyes met. His mouth dropped open at something behind me, and his eyes widened in sudden fear.

  “Rowyn! Behind you!”

  I spun and faced the blonde witch. She had a black dagger in her hand, its black mist coiling around her wrist. My death blade.

  “That’s mine,” I said. “Didn’t your parents teach you that it’s not polite to play with other people’s toys?”

  The witch giggled and wiped her bloody nose. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill you with it. And I’m going to take your blood.”

  She moved forward and I backed away. My back hit something solid and I hissed as the invisible shield of the circle burned my skin. Damn. I was still trapped in the stupid witch circle.

  “Why should Evanora be more powerful than the others?” said the witch. “She’s old. Her time’s up. It should be me. I should have the power.” She had the crazy eyes all people have before they do something crazy, and she stepped over the blood outline and into my circle. “It’s my turn. Give it to me!” she shouted and sprang.

  A large cup smashed against the back of her head. With a small cry, the witch fell to the ground, splayed over the pentagram. Blood poured from a large gash on her scalp, a fatal one.

  Ugul stood where the blonde witch had been, his bound hands still holding the cup he’d smashed her head with. There was blood on it. I didn’t understand the expression on his face as he dropped the cup. He hobbled forward and dragged his foot through the edge of the blood circle making a five-inch gap. The circle was broken.

  Twice he had saved my life. Twice he didn’t look happy about it.

  And I was the asshole who would bring him in.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on my guilt. Freed, I sprang into action, grabbed my death blade and hurled myself towards Tyrius’s cage. Using the hilt of my weapon, I smashed it against the lock. It fell to the ground with a loud clang and I swung open the cage’s door.

  I reached in and pulled out my cat, my friend, my Tyrius.

  A delicate, silver collar was wrapped around his neck. “I knew you’d save me,” said the cat through heavily lidded eyes. His voice was low and weak, as though that freaking collar was draining him.

  I had just one thing left to do. Slipping my hands around his neck, I grabbed that goddamn collar, and putting all of my rage in it—ripped it in half.

  Tyrius sprang up and stretched, yawning. “Thanks, Rowyn.”

  I smiled and tossed the collar. “You bet.” Tyrius’s fur was dull and he swayed on his feet as though drunk. Not wanting to take any more chances with him, I picked him up and draped him around my shoulders, his favorite spot. Once I knew he was secure and safe, I spun around, dagger in hand. I was going to kill that old hag for what she had done to Tyrius and what she had planned to do to him.

  I darted back into the fight, my eyes flitting around the basement looking for Evanora. Only then did I realize the sounds of battle were gone. There was just the sound of my blood hammering wildly in my ears. The fight was over.

  Five witches were dead on the basement floor, some with their necks torn and bloodied. But there was no sign of the old witch.

  Danto crossed the room towards me with a predatory grace that only he could pull off barefoot. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “You okay, Rowyn? Tyrius?”

  “We’re good.” I sheathed my death blade, just noticing that my wrists had stopped bleeding. I felt my skin prickle and tighten as it was already starting to heal. Where was my soul blade? “I don’t know how you found us, but we owe you.” I sighed loudly, not even knowing where Evanora had taken us. The last time I’d seen the vamp, he’d been really pissed. He was the last person or half-breed I would have expected for a rescue mission. But here he was. Interesting.

  I smiled at the vamp. “Thank you.” A feeling of nausea rose at the thought of the witches drinking my blood.

  Danto’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes were hard. “Do you even know where you are?”

  “No,” I said glancing around. “Should I? I don’t recognize this place.”

  A frustrated sigh slipped from me, catching as my gaze fell upon Jax. He stood in the shadows of the basement, rubbing his wrists. There was an odd expression on his face as he kept his distance from the vampires. I looked away before he caught me staring at him.

  Ugul sat next to the bloody circle, his hands and feet still bound. He gave me a hard look. I would deal with him later.

  “You’re in Mystic Quarter,” said Danto, and I spied his two vamp friends exchanging words. “My friends saw the witches drag three bodies into their shop. When I heard that they might be angel-born, I had a feeling it might be you. You do have a talent for attracting trouble.”

  “Thanks.” My face warmed. “This is a witch’s shop?” Figures it’s where they’d assemble and do their dark magic crap.

  “The Rusty Cauldron,” said Danto. “I believe the owner is the young witch with a cracked skull.”

  My gaze swept the room. The metallic smell of blood was mixed with the scent of candles and incense. Th
is had been self-defense, but still, I didn’t know how we were going to explain five dead witches. The bite marks would definitely alarm the Witch Courts. They would take this as a vampire attack. How could I explain that the witches were about to sacrifice me for my blood and the vampires had come to rescue me? And from what I’d heard Isobel say about Danto, he wasn’t favored among the courts. I didn’t want to cause him more hardship for saving my ass.

  There was also Ugul to think of. The Gray Council would take him into their custody and bring him to Isobel instead, and I would lose my money.

  “I see you’ve found your faerie,” said Danto, following my gaze. His brows creased in a frown. “His name sounds familiar. I thought so the first time I heard Isobel mention it. I’ll have to do some more digging, but,” he said turning his gray eyes back on me, “are you sure you want to take him to the fae queen? There’s something she’s not telling us about him.”

  I knew Danto and the queen shared some history, but I wasn’t about to give away my chance at saving my grandmother’s home just because the vamp hated the fae queen. Hell, I hated her too, but I was going to see this through. I had no choice.

  “How do we dispose of the bodies?” I asked, wishing to change the subject.

  A knowing smile curved over him as his eyes fastened on me. “We’ll take care of them.”

  “Good man, uh, vampire,” muttered Tyrius, his voice heavy with sleep. I felt him purring against my neck.

  I couldn’t believe our luck, but something told me I wasn’t finished with the old witch. A feeling of unease pulled at my chest tightly.

  Evanora Crow was gone. And she had a cup of my blood.

  18

  I sat on the dirty floor, my back against the wall as I watched the vampires haul the bodies up the basement stairs. I marveled at their strength. Even the female vamp, whose name I heard was Vicky, was as strong as an ox, and she was shorter and more delicate that I was. But that was just an illusion. She could probably kick my ass.