By the time the high priestess noticed her, Thea was already speaking, her voice growing louder and more angry with every word.
“Neath silver moon or dark of night,
In shadow deep or brightest light,
From this hex none shall be spared,
For wrath knows not peace nor care.
Betrayers! Gather close and hear.
I damn you to your darkest fear.
I bind you to dread’s cold embrace
Until your truth you boldly face"
My darkest fear? Blair thought to herself in a panic as an explosion rocked causing a green mist to rise and hit everyone around her, and they topple to the floor like dominos.
Her ears rang as her body hit the floor like a rag doll. She could hear everyone screaming, but they sounded far away. Her vision was in tatters as the green mist choked her eyes. Flashes of color, people running, rubble falling… but nothing in a full coherent image.
What was her darkest fear? She quickly racked her brain as pain flooded her body. She needed to know what it was so that she could fight it when it came. Was it death?
Quickly, she clenched her fist into a tight ball and was filled with relief to see that she could move and therefore must be alive. An even worse thought suddenly came to her; what could be worse than her own death? Her sisters.
Forcing herself to ignore the pain, Blair dragged herself to her feet. She had to get to her sisters. She had to warn them. Had to save them.
With a limp, she began trudging her way through the ballroom, forcing her aching legs to keep pushing forward. She didn’t look around, didn’t try to help anyone or look for the woman who had just cursed them. If Thea was going to kill her, she was going to die trying to get to those who mattered most to her.
Something worse was coming for her, however – something so much worse. Blair could feel it, dread building in the pit of her stomach, growing greater with each step that she took.
Finally, she saw it. The thing she feared most. Even more than her own death or that of her sisters.
Hexxa.
Her mother’s twin sister, a witch of darkness who had turned evil. Before she could reach her full power, her mother had made the hardest decision of her life, and with the help of her family, they had banished and imprisoned Hexxa. Her entire life, Blair had heard stories of her mother’s twin the way that others heard stories of the boogie man.
For every act of love her mother carried out, Hexxa performed an act of evil. For every bit of help her mother tried for, Hexxa cast curses of hate.
She stood a towering six feet tall, nearly covering the entire doorway, dark brunette hair flying around her like a wind storm. It was horrifying to see her own mother’s face but twisted in a way that could only be described as evil.
Where her mother, Lanore, had smooth, pale skin and never wore make up, her natural beauty simply shining through, Hexxa had caked on dark purple eye shadow and lips. Her skin held deep wrinkles, almost as if her hatred, just as deep, had caused them. When she saw Blair, her mouth split into a terrifying gash, and a cackle like none she had ever heard before sent a shiver up her spine.
“I can smell Lanore in your bones.” She pointed a crooked finger at her, and Blair fought back the bile.
“My mother and our family banished you as punishment for your own crimes. When you put so much evil and hate into the world, that evil and hate comes back to you three fold.” Blair refused to let her voice shake as she spoke. If she died here, she would die defending her family.
“Aye, pretty one, the rule of three,” she cackled again. “But thanks to a powerful evil witch, the ring of Ra, and a very powerful curse, here I am again. You’re here all alone and far too weak to stop me. All you can really do is stand there and die.”
With the last word, green, noxious gas swirled around Blair, and she heard a crack of lightning before fire hit her veins and she went down hard.
As everything around her went dark and she accepted her own death, her ears were filled with the sound of that cackle.
~
Once her magic had worn off of him and Terrance was able to move again, he had worked all night and followed all of his resources until he finally found the witches ball.
He shouldn’t have been able to just walk right in, but when he found the mansion, there was no one guarding it. No magic protecting it from intruders. Almost as if everyone was either unconcerned or gone for the day. Had he missed the entire ball?
That’s when he felt the ground rock beneath him and an explosion go off.
Something was wrong here.
Once he was able to get up, he rushed to his feet and lurched forward. He had no idea where he was going or why he was heading towards danger, really. The only thing he could think of was that he had to see if the evil witches were here before he left, or he would never be able to forgive himself.
Even if they were having some type of nuclear fallout situation, he needed to check before he left.
If she was there, he would kill her or die trying. He had already made peace with the decision. His friends and family, what little he had, would forgive him for it. And if they didn’t… well… he’d already be dead, so to hell with it. He would be dead and wouldn’t know the difference anyway.
All around him was pure chaos. A dark haired witch was looking triumphant as everyone else cowered below her, but he knew she wasn’t the woman he was looking for.
When he had met witches in the past who belong to the coven that tortured him, his scars would burn for them as if he was being branded all over again. He didn’t have that feeling now, so he knew even though this witch was evil, she wasn’t the one who had caused his suffering.
If he was able to, he would have killed her too, but before he could even begin to formulate a plan, he felt it… the burning.
She was here. He scanned the area and finally saw her emerging from the rubble.
Terrance had never seen the leader of the witch cult, but by the intensity of his burning scars, he knew this was her. His flesh felt like it was burning off; so strongly it ached that it knocked him to his knees. He struggled to rise and realized that the witch had found her way to Blair, the beautiful witch he had met earlier.
From their conversation, he realized that Blair was not only too weak to stop this Hexxa but that she most likely was going to be killed by her.
He didn’t know why, but something in him wanted to protect her. He knew she was a witch, one who had literally just put a spell on him, but all he could think about was that smile of hers and how it had lifted, if only temporarily, the ache in his chest.
He forced himself to his feet and raced as fast as he could to her, but it was too late. The magic reached her faster than a human could, and he watched her crumple lifelessly to the ground as Hexxa made her exit.
Skidding across the floor, he scooped her into his arms.
“I wasn’t fast enough.” He ground his teeth and offered those words as an apology. “I wasn’t fast enough.”
In his strong arms, Blair blinked weakly.
“I’ll stay here with you,” he whispered. No one should ever die alone. “I’ll tell your sisters what you did for them. I heard everything. I’ll get revenge for you… I’ll get it for both of us.”
True to his word, he didn’t leave her side. He just held her tight until another witch approached, one with an almost Goddess like grace and beauty.
“She’s not dead.” The woman’s voice came out like a whisper, and he knew she must be truly wounded as well.
“What’s wrong with her then?” he asked, looking down at Blair’s glassy eyes and faintly rising chest.
“If Hexxa was stronger, the curse would have killed her; but because she is so weak, the curse merely broke her body. But even that won’t be permanent.”
“She’s going to recover?” He felt his heart jump but pushed the feeling down. He refused to be that excited for her. She was a witch after all. Of course she would
recover. They weren’t like puny humans.
“Her own magic is much stronger than she realizes, and Hexxa isn’t yet strong enough to do any real damage. In time, Blair will be back to herself, but so too will Hexxa. To break the curse she’s placed on Blair, the only options are to wait for time to heal her, or chase after Hexxa now.” The woman pointed out the door as if she actually wanted him to sling Blair over his shoulder and go sprinting after the magic maniac.
“Why do we both have to go after her if Blair is barely breathing? And how do we defeat her for good?” Terrance felt himself grow more and more annoyed with the situation he was in. He had come here to kill witches, not team up with them.
“You won’t be able to find her alone, not without magic; and Blair, being her kin, is the best person in this room to take with you. You won’t be able to defeat Hexxa, not without all seven sisters. Only Lanore and her children can defeat her, and this time, she won’t be able to be simply imprisoned. She will have to have her body and soul destroyed. Something that big takes more than one witch to accomplish, and will take many years to gather everything necessary. The most you can hope to do, is slow her down, maybe even stop her from reaching her cult, throw obstacles in her way to keep her from reaching her full strength, until Blairs mother is able to find everything to complete the ritual. Once I’ve tended to the others here, I will contact her coven,” the Priestess in front of him dished out orders that he didn’t want to follow, but for the sake of his own vengeance, he wasn’t sure he had a choice.
He would have to help witches in order to kill the one witch he wanted more than anyone. He would have to wait years for his revenge. He would have to hope and rely that these sisters came through on their end and would do everything necessary to defeat Hexxa. Could he really wait that long? Did he really have another choice?
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
“Tell me how to follow her, and I will,” Terrance relented, finally accepting his fate.
“You have the heart of a king, but I will give you the blood of a wolf.” The Priestess pulled a vial from deep inside the folds of her gown. “This will not turn you into a werewolf, but it will allow you to borrow from their power for a short time. Nothing on earth can track better than a werewolf, but once you fight her once, the spell will be broken, and you will no longer possess the strength, endurance, or senses of a wolf. If you wish to keep them, you will have to seek them out on your own and pledge allegiance to their kind.”
Her beautiful hands held out the vial full of dark liquid, and Terrance hesitated to grab it. He didn’t want to be a werewolf even if it was temporary. He didn’t want to have anything to do with supernatural creatures except for destroying the evil ones. If he wanted to kill Hexxa though, he once again didn’t really see a choice.
How could he track her on his own? Especially carrying Blair the entire time, who might take weeks to heal enough to be able to walk or move again.
Angrily, he snatched the vial and downed it before he could talk himself out of it. It was time to nut up or shut up, and he had never been the quiet type.
The high priestess smiled so widely, for a moment, he regretted his decision, thinking he had fallen for a trap. But then his body began to change.
Terrance felt his muscles double, then double again in size, becoming bulkier than they had ever been. Suddenly, he could hear and smell everything around him, the unexpected rush of overstimulation causing him to lean over and retch.
“That will pass,” the priestess assured him. “Now, breathe deeply, take in the full scent of Hexxa, take Blair, and follow her. This will be a dangerous journey, but in the end, if you survive, you will receive what your heart wants most.”
What his heart wanted most? He closed his eyes and thought of it now. Revenge. The word was so cold and sweet as he held onto it.
With that, the priestess was gone, off to help others who had been affected by the curse, and he was left alone to chase after his destiny.
Staring down, he thought Blair looked so fragile and breakable, such a far cry from the beautiful, confident woman she had been earlier. He picked her up gingerly and carried her through the doorway.
Terrance hoped what he had picked up on was Hexxa’s scent. It was dark and spicy like wine but tinged with a sour note that turned his stomach. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would better match that description. So, with Blair in his arms, off they marched.
After three miles of walking, Blair should have felt heavy in his arms. His muscles should have been shaking from the exertion, but they weren’t. He didn’t show a single bead of sweat, didn’t even seem to notice the woman in his arms.
Except when he couldn’t stop himself from staring down at her.
She hadn’t opened her eyes the entire time he was carrying her… maybe she couldn’t. Either way, she looked like a porcelain doll wrapped in his arms. She didn’t seem stressed or like she had any worries about being with him at all. She didn’t seem to fear him even though she had seen his scars.
Earlier when they had spoken, she wasn’t afraid of him, but she had had all of her powers. Now, she was helpless. If he wanted to kill her, there would be nothing she could do to stop it.
You have the heart of a king. The words drifted into his thoughts. What had the High Priestess sensed in him that made both women feel comfortable with entrusting her to him?
Whatever it was, he certainly could not sense it in himself.
~
After two days of being carried by Terrance, Blair could feel the muscle strength returning to her eyes. She fluttered them opened and closed but, after a few times of doing so, felt strain set in, so she stopped and let them rest again for a while.
Not before taking one long, last look at the man who was carrying her, though. She remembered him from a time that felt like ages ago, when she was strong and full of life and this man was filled with hatred.
Now, as she was silently pressed against his steady heartbeat, she didn’t sense any of the anger from before. It seemed more like he was filled with purpose and drive. Maybe having a goal before him had chipped away some of the rage inside him.
Whatever it may have been, she was glad that he had let go of it and agreed to help her. If he had chosen to kill her instead, something that she wouldn’t have put past the man she met days ago, there would have been nothing she could do about it except for lay still and die silently.
Noticing her eyes open, he looked down at her, and their eyes met for the first time in days. She expected a smile from him, or at least some acknowledgement that he knew she was awake, or hell, that he was impressed she was alive.
She clipped her eyes shut twice, trying to show him some sort of irritation.
“Don’t glare at me. I didn’t do this to you,” was all he said back.
Blair wanted to roll her eyes at him but simply didn’t have the strength, so instead she closed them again, hoping that when next she woke, she would feel stronger.
If she could just get her voice back, she could at least give him sassy remarks in return.
Hours passed with Blair sleeping soundly, but finally at the sound of voices, she kept her eyes closed but awoke from her sleep.
It sounded like Terrance was having a conversation with another man.
“My girlfriend partied way too hard, so I figured instead of trying to drive home, me a little tipsy myself, I would just pull off here and get a room for the night,” he said to what she now assumed was the check in person at a hotel. Suddenly, she realized that she was not in his arms, that he had set her down somewhere, probably on a couch.
This caused a great deal of panic in her. She had been safe while she was cradled in his arms, and now she was left open and exposed to the elements. By the sound of his voice, she knew he was close by, but she still would have preferred to be in his arms.
“Smart thinking,” a voice that sounded like it came from an older man replied.
Rates and money was exchange
d before she felt herself being scooped back into his arms and whisked away. Her stomach lurched, and she knew they were on an elevator. After a short ride, the doors dinged open, and she felt him juggle her weight as he opened the hotel room door.
The room smelled clean and nice. He hadn’t picked a roach motel, and she was thankful for that.
The moment he placed her on the bed, she suddenly realized how very alone and vulnerable – and on a bed in a hotel – she was. If he wanted to rape her, there would be nothing in the world she could do to stop him.
Instead, he left her completely alone and walked off. She could hear his footsteps softly thudding on the carpet. Peaking her eyes open, she saw him head into the bathroom and then heard the shower water start running.
Blair would have given anything to take a shower, but that would mean being stripped down by a stranger, and that was a hard pass for her.
Steam slowly filled the room, and she liked the way it felt on her skin. He didn’t cover her before he left, so she was a bit chilly. But it wasn’t like she could let him know about it.
When he got out of the shower, she couldn’t help but crack her eyes open for another peak. He had apparently washed his clothes in the bathroom sink because he walked around the room with a towel draped low across his waist as he hung the clothes on any surface he could to dry.
She did not mind the view one bit. Yes, his scars were large, and to people not used to magic, they could probably seem intimidating. But they didn’t bother Blair in the slightest, and she was much more focused on all of his muscles.
He was twice the size he had been when they had met in New Orleans, and he had been a big guy then. Now, he was just enormous.
“You know, if the tables were turned and I was gawking at you while you were in a towel, you would probably hex my eyes right out of my skull.” He cut his eyes at her, and she snapped hers shut. She had been so wrapped up in staring at him that she hadn’t even noticed she had been caught.
Wicked Hunt Page 2
