Broken Magic: The Sanctuary Chronicles

by India Kells

  She didn’t hear him closing in as her body was in convulsions, trying to gulp air and survive. Her ribs ached with each spasm, and she felt herself tilt toward the floor. Surprisingly, she didn’t hit cold concrete. She was caught mid-fall. In a tangle of body and blanket, she felt surrounded in a warm cocoon, a living and breathing one. The coughing took a long time to stop. When it finally ended, and she caught her breath back, she realized that she was plastered against the golden werewolf. Her blanket had dropped and was only covering her back. Her naked front was against him. Although he was fully clothed, the unusual warmth of his body seeped and appeased her weary bones. She lifted her head, and saw he was intently looking at her, his blue eyes searing. Valeria could feel the preternatural strength of his body. One squeeze and he could easily break her in two. She couldn’t move, trapped in unyielding bands, even when he removed one arm, He gently parted the curtain of her brown hair and wiped her mouth. There was blood on his fingers. Her blood. Wasn’t it the end when the patient was coughing blood? She had been for a while now.

  The werewolf examined her as he did years ago. There was less curiosity in him, as if he was waiting to see something specific. As before, he lowered his head and smelled her skin. For the first time, she felt self-conscious. She must have smelled disgusting, and it bothered her. But there was no possibility of get away. He wasn’t allowing it. A sound brought her attention back to the room. The other man, the older man, was in the basement, putting his case on the table. With his back to her, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he turned, she froze. He had a syringe in his hand. Valeria tried to get away, but it was like trying to push a boulder with her bare hands. There was no way she could get away. The older man hesitated at the entrance of the cell and waited. A low growl under her fingers made her look up.

  “Stop fighting, you’ll only cough more.” The voice was only partially human and very annoyed. Her body betrayed her state and started shaking, more from exhaustion than fear. The hold of his captor loosened a bit, and one of his hands rubbed her back. The older man came closer, and Valeria almost tried to get under the blonde werewolf’s skin to escape.

  It was quick, and she barely felt the needle. What she felt before slumber took over was the soothing hand rhythmically caressing her spine and the warmth against her cheek. The luxury of comfort she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her last thought was of being grateful to her captor, and that weird thought made her smile.

  CHAPTER NINE

  If she was dead, Valeria didn’t like it at all. A lingering headache and stiff neck made it difficult to move, as if she had been asleep in the same position for a long while. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept that deeply since she haunted the streets. It was dangerous not hearing possible threats coming, especially since the threat could be enticed by her witch blood.

  Her body felt heavy. Her thoughts were so sluggish, it took her a moment to realize she was still in the same cell, in the same basement. Nobody in sight, she sat up, and eventually, her head stopped spinning. She was surprised to find more blankets on her cot, as well as a thick duvet that looked like a puffy cloud on top of them all. She was still naked, not a surprise there, but she was startled to see two bandages on her left arm. She remembered the older man and the syringe, but that had been her right arm.

  It took her a moment to realize something even more important. The fire inside her chest, that had been there for so long, had receded and her body had a newfound strength. She dared to take a deep breath, and it didn’t trigger a cough. She wasn’t her old self yet, but she wasn’t as tired. Energy was coming back. She didn’t know if she ought to be happy about it, or seriously worried. At least now, she was in far better shape to escape. All she had to do was bide her time and seize the right opportunity.

  For the first time since she was brought here, Valeria wrapped a blanket around her and stood up. Her cell door was locked again. She thought that nothing had changed, until she noticed a drip stand in the corner. They had put her on a drip. She now had an answer for her bandages. How long had she been out?

  Valeria didn’t have the opportunity to linger on that thought for long before someone unlocked the door.

  Part of her wondered if the dark blonde werewolf would make an appearance. His behavior had been so weird since they first met, she couldn’t guess what he wanted from her, why he brought her here. And most of all, who was he?

  Not the golden-haired man, but the older blonde woman. The very first person she had met when she woke up in that cell.

  Same woman, bringing another tray, with a disapproving look on her motherly face.

  “Well, I’m glad to see that our efforts were fruitful. You know, bringing you back from the dead had not been an easy task, young lady.”

  There was a steaming mug, that smelled like broth, and crackers on the tray. And for the first time, nausea didn’t make an appearance. On the contrary, her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

  The woman nodded. “Your appetite has returned.” She put the tray on the table and, at Valeria’s surprise, she went to unlock her cell door.

  “Don’t get any ideas, young lady. We’ve taken precautions with you. There are protective runes carved on the other side of that door in case you’re stupid enough to think about escaping. And you still need to get past me. Don’t count on that because you wouldn’t survive the attempt.”

  The woman gestured her to the table. Valeria decided there was no debate there. She needed to eat, so that was her next move. She wrapped the thinnest blanket around her and went to sit in the chair. Tentatively, she took the mug in her hands, sipping the hot liquid at a slow pace, in deference to her stomach. The woman sat in the chair on the other side of the table and observed her for a while.

  When Valeria finished her broth, she eyed the crackers, but her stomach rebelled against it, so she pushed the tray away.

  “Thank you, it was excellent.”

  “And she speaks! Since your arrival, the only sound I heard from you was your coughing.”

  Valeria sat back, rewrapping her blanket on her shoulders while looking around.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Three days. The doctor said you had a severe case of pneumonia and he had trouble rehydrating you well enough. Same for your sugar levels. He said it was common for people living on the streets for a while. Malnutrition can cause such a thing.”

  Valeria nodded and looked at the crackers again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep them down if she ate them now. But it was hard to control her instinct around food, especially after being severely deprived, never knowing how long you would have to survive without it.

  If the woman saw her hesitation, she didn’t say anything about it.

  “Would you like more broth? I can fetch another cup for you.”

  Valeria swallowed and shook her head. “Maybe later?” Damn, her voice betrayed her longing for more.

  The blonde woman nodded and reached for something in her pocket. She retrieved two small carved bracelets that appeared to be made of silver, but Valeria had seen such a thing before. They were made of a material stronger and much older than silver or steel. Older and rarer. They were used on witches and wizards to prevent them from using magic. A sort of shackles. The werewolf was stronger and faster than her, even if she appeared older and more fragile. By asking her to wear those, she would be able to overpower Valeria even more easily. If the woman only knew.

  “I thought the whole room was safeguarded against what I can do.”

  The woman nodded. “You’re right. But I thought you would like to take a shower. No offense, but you reek, my dear.”

  Valeria smiled a little. “Especially with your nose, it must be terrible.”

  The ghost of a smile bloomed on the older woman’s mouth. “You have no idea.”

  Again, she presented the shackles. Valeria remembered a time when it would have been abhorrent to wear such contraptions. Magic for her had been like b
reathing her whole life. Now, when using it was no longer an option, it made no difference to wear them or not. Valeria extended her arms over the table, and the woman only hesitated a second before locking the bracelets around her wrists.

  Valeria felt her powers hum over her skin for an instant before they settled. When she looked up, the shifter woman was frowning, eyeing her in a weird way.

  “What?”

  Her captor shook her head. “I’ve lived a long time, child, and you’re the first witch I’ve seen accept those bracelets so willingly.”

  Normally, Valeria would swallow a frog rather than wear the bracelets, but for now, she examined them again. “You don’t know me well enough.”

  “In fact, child, I don’t know anything about you. What’s your name?”

  Valeria didn’t even blink. She doubted very much that they didn’t know who she was. And it was the probable reason why the golden werewolf had prevented her from drowning. Now, she needed to find out if they had contacted the Enforcers yet.

  Valeria angled her head and waited. The older woman sighed.

  “I’ve broken more stubborn than you, young lady. And before I change my mind, let’s go for that shower of yours.”

  Still wrapped in her blanket, Valeria followed the woman out of the room. She took a quick look at the protective runes over the doorframe and almost laughed. Those would not prevent any magical being from using their powers while locked in here. The symbols carved into the woods were all wrong. And quite new. Did they google that nonsense? What they did was make sure any magic done inside these walls would stay in it. Nobody outside the room would be able to detect it or be affected by it. Was this a mistake? Or a trick? She didn’t have enough time to assess it.

  The hallway was sparse, very similar to her room, and at the end was a staircase. The woman stopped and opened a door, leading to a small, but functional bathroom. There was a large shower, a sink, and a mirror. Valeria had to admit, the thought of showering was enticing.

  “The door cannot be locked from the inside. There are soap and towels in the cupboard.” The woman hesitated before closing the door. “If you need anything, just shout. My name is Ellen.”

  Valeria didn’t know if she was more stunned by the prospect of taking a shower or by the suspicious woman revealing her name. A name had power in her world, and probably in Ellen’s too. She had to admit, her knowledge of the shapeshifting community was limited. Her father had taught her the many variations on how to track, capture and kill shifters, but not much on how they lived. Valeria started the shower and let it run for a moment before stepping in. As the water heated up, she dropped her blanket and took a good look at her body in front of the mirror. Something she hadn’t done in two years. Ignoring the dark brown tangled mess of hair around her shoulders, she was surprised that, despite starvation, illness, and beatings, her frame was not only skin and bones. Magic in her body must have maintained her weight somehow, kept her alive. She had never been this pale, though. Scars and bruises popped out in a painful reminder of her struggles.

  Valeria shook her head and grabbed the soap before stepping into the shower stall. The first spray of hot water was almost blistering, but she didn’t care. She would enjoy it as if it were the very last shower she took for the rest of her life, scrubbing, cleaning every inch of skin and hair several times. At first, the water going down the drain was muddy brown, but at the last rinse, the foam remained bubbly white.

  Valeria could have lingered, and she was tempted to do so, but she forced herself to shut off the water. Drying herself off and brushing the knots out of her hair, she saw that Ellen had placed a pile of clothing by the door. Worn jeans, a sports bra, panties and a long-sleeved blue t-shirt with a matching pair of socks. As she took them in her arms, she couldn’t help but bring them to her nose and inhale the fresh smell. It moved something inside her, memories she didn’t want to bring to life.

  Someone coughed outside the door, an impatient sign from Ellen. Valeria put the clothes on quickly and, although a bit snug, they felt good on her skin. She pulled her sleeves above the bracelets and opened the door.

  Ellen looked her up and down and nodded in approval. Valeria saw the nostrils of the woman flickering. “You clean up good. You look human again, witch.”

  “You mean I smell less like trash and shit?”

  Ellen’s mouth quirked and she signaled her back to her cell.

  As she walked back in, Valeria noticed that the bed was neatly made with fresh linen.

  “Do you want me to remove your bracelets before I lock you in again?”

  Valeria considered it for a moment. It was an added safeguard for when she was sleeping, and never thought they would be a helpful tool until now.

  “No, I’ll keep them.”

  Another raised eyebrow, but no comment this time as Ellen turned the key.

  “I’ll come back with your medication and more broth, later.”

  Valeria watched her go out. Her jailer had forgotten to turn the lights back on. The only source of light came from the cracked frame of the sealed window.

  Daylight. It may have been day, but she felt tired. The whole shower proved that her body was still weak, despite the rest and medication. She lay down on top the pillowy comforter and closed her eyes. Blanking her mind was no easy task, but she perfected this skill after her escape. Otherwise, she would have gone crazy with grief and worry. Was her father okay? Still an unanswered question. In the shadows, huddled in a corner, hiding in plain sight, she had seen people of her own world passing by as she remained unimportant, invisible to them. She heard whispers, but none of them about her family.

  A very faint sound, almost like shuffling, came from the door. She didn’t move. It wasn’t Ellen, as the older woman purposefully made extra noises to announce her presence. This intruder didn’t want to be advertised.

  No other noise, but she recognized a faint smell, one of warm earth and crushed leaves specific to the golden werewolf in the forest; the same scent she had recognized when he held her up for her injection. Werewolves clung to smells of specific environments they particularly liked or holding a special significance. It was instinctual.

  Valeria opened her eyes and saw him, just outside her cell.

  He was just standing there, about two feet from her cell door. He looked at her, his arms alongside his tall, muscular body. His blonde hair was slicked back from his face, apart from a single rebellious strand that fell near his fiery blue eyes. Predator’s eyes. Valeria wasn’t fooled by his stance. On the other side of the bars stood a very dangerous creature. She didn’t know what had triggered his hatred, or why he saved her, but she wasn’t putting her fingers through the bars. That was certain.

  Slowly, she sat up on her cot, her back against the concrete wall, legs crossed. Where her father had only taught his daughter tracking and killing methods, Valeria’s mother had the greatest respect for their kind, considering them the perfect representation of nature. So, her wise mama gave her a glimpse of their world and reminded her to never forget their true nature. It was at the core of who they were, and how they reacted.

  Valeria took a deep breath and relaxed her posture. She didn’t want to become a menace to him in any way. She wouldn’t win, not without her powers. Her gaze shifted and started to take account of the rest of his body. She remembered how he moved and how he felt against her. He moved like a dancer, fluidly graceful, with an admirable economy of movement.

  Valeria’s head snapped up when he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t moved, or maybe he was now frowning, difficult to say, when partly hidden in darkness.

  A low growl came from deep down his chest as he finally moved toward her. When he gripped the bars over his head, his stance assessing and dangerous, Valeria did her best to remain stoic, although her stomach clenched at the sight.

  “You can’t hide anything from me, witch.” His voice was low and raspy, devoid of any warmth. “I can smell fear and arousal on you. But don’t worry about
your virtue, I don’t fuck murderers.”

  Valeria angled her head. The man may be a specimen of sheer male beauty in her eyes, but his ego dampened her desire quickly.

  “I have no plan of being another notch on your belt. As for fear, anyone kidnapped and imprisoned here without a good reason would be afraid.”

  The werewolf angled his head, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  “Oh, there is a good reason, witch. One I will make you confirm, even if I have to peel your skin, inch by inch, from your body.”

  Valeria crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow.

  “And what are you accusing me of, dare I ask?”

  The bars creaked a little as his hands tightened on the metal, reminding her of his tremendous strength. “Is your soul tarnished by so many sins and crimes that you need me to tell you which one you need to remember?”

  Valeria ground her teeth against his accusation. “For the last two years, I was forced to survive on the streets, but I didn’t commit any crime, wolf.”

  She stayed silent for a moment, her eyes glued to his. Anger and hatred poured from him in waves.

  “Nobody hides on the streets without fleeing from justice, or your own conscience. Don’t play the innocent, I won’t believe it.”

  His voice rose to a growl, his breath harsher. Valeria hesitated but didn’t offer more explanation. What was eating at him? What was he accusing her of? He couldn’t know what happened to her mother? Or maybe word went around. She wouldn’t be surprised if a bounty on her head would have enticed even the shifter community.

  “Why do you keep me prisoner? Why not call in the Enforcers, if you think I committed a crime?”

  The stranger released the bars and straightened up. Valeria blinked on how fast he donned his civilized veneer once more.

  “Maybe because I don’t believe in the same justice as you do. I prefer the truth to pretense. Be assured, witch. As soon as you admit your crime, your death will be swift. I can promise you that.”