by Erin Hayes
She slammed the wall again, and the wall shook even harder. “What sort of leader would you make, sucking a Blackwood cock while you give them all of our secrets? Was I supposed to just sit back and let that happen? Was I expected to let you ruin the coven my family helped build?” She shook her head and pointed her finger at Julies. “Fuck no! And if Grandfather can’t see that he’s made a mistake, then I’ll kill his decrepit ass, too. Then they’ll all be gone. And I’ll lead everything.”
“Everything?” Julia asked, trying not to burst into tears as the urn weakened her past the point of integrity.
“That’s what the urn is for, Juju. Your stupid little fiancé thinks we’re in this together. And we will be, right up until I can usurp him. And once I funnel your magic into his urn and restore the Crawley to life, she’ll work for me, too. I’ll have the Louisiana Coven, the Moon Coven, and the Romani. With that, I’ll crush the Blackwoods and take their dark magics for myself. I’ll be the most powerful being in the world, Julia. And it’ll all be because of you.”
“I-I wouldn’t…” But she couldn’t even finish her sentence. The urn had stolen too much, made her too weak to speak.
“Well, that’s the thing Juju. I really don’t give a free flying fuck what you would or wouldn’t do. If you wouldn’t have had your head so far up Roman Blackwood’s ass all these years, maybe you’d have seen this coming. Maybe you could have even stopped it.” She nodded at her cousin. “But you didn’t. Like some moron from a romance novel, you were blinded by love. You thought it was the most important thing. Which is exactly why you’re not fit to lead our coven. Wanna know what is the most important thing in the world, Juju? The thing you overlooked? Power. You had it, you wasted it, and once I’ve stripped you clean of everything inside that troublesome little body of yours, I’ll put it to good use.”
She settled in front of Julia, grinning like a hyena. “And the best part is, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ever since he woke, Roman had been feeling her. Her pain. Her fear. Her guilt and her self-loathing. But, more important than that, he felt her location.
She was out in these woods somewhere. He knew it. The pull of her was getting stronger and stronger—but so was her pain. It had already started. The thing that Roman had the premonition about, the thing that would soon kill Julia, was already in play.
He had to move faster. He had to act smarter. He needed to find her before it was too late. If he didn’t—if she died—then all of this would have been for nothing. His life would have been for nothing. And the idea of continuing to live it with her gone—really, really gone—seemed as worthless a thing as he could ever consider.
Roman kept running. Though his lungs burned and his body begged for relief, he ran on. He refused to stop. He refused to even give an inch. He was getting closer, but her essence was fading faster than her presence was growing closer.
He felt her pulsating through him. Her taste, her scent, the way she moved—it was real to him now. She was close, and he would find her.
A loud cracking noise sounded from overhead. Roman looked up to find a tree branch coming right for his head.
He dove forward, slamming against the ground and narrowly missing the branch. Or, so he thought.
Pain rushed through his leg. He turned to find a large branch on top of his left foot, pinning him to the ground.
“Damnit!” Roman tried to free himself by pulling at his leg, but it was useless. He couldn’t get leverage from this position to move the branch, and it was too heavy to slip out from under.
He couldn’t afford this, to be slowed down, so he kept pulling while looking around for any alternative—anything that might actually work.
Instead, he saw her.
A few hundred yards off in the distance, Julia sat cross legged on the ground. Her eyes were closed, and her body was rigid.
And there across from her, sitting in a very similar position, was Cassandra.
It was happening now. And it was Cassandra. Of course it was. That image of Julia dying in front of him, it was going to happen because of that bitch.
Roman leaned up, throwing both hands against the bark. It was no use. He still couldn’t get it from this position. His breath caught in his throat, and he yanked his leg harder.
He closed his eyes and felt around for the tree’s energy. Thinking back, he remembered that green kid from the docks, the one who struggled to light those sticks on fire.
Roman felt so much like that kid now, lost and in way over his head.
But he wasn’t a kid, and he wasn’t green. He was Roman Blackwood. He grew up at the feet of masters. The dark arts ran through his veins.
And he had love on his side, goddamn it!
He forced himself to quell his panic and focus on his energy. Slowing down was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed a moment, just a moment, to focus on his energy.
Trembling with restraint, he waited until finally enough energy had regenerated for him to blast away the fallen wood, but before he could bolt to his feet, a familiar voice called from above him.
“Impressive,” Paris said from one of the trees above. He cracked down to the ground, power sparking around him. His eyes were near black with energy. “I’m afraid it ain’t going to be near enough, though.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell away from me, hayseed,” Roman said, standing up.
Pain flared through his foot, but he pushed through it. There was no time to think about that now. She was right there, right in front of him. She was in trouble, going to die, and the only thing separating him from saving her was this idiot.
“Pretend I don’t know what’s good for me, city mouse,” Paris said, grinning at him like a possessed creature. He floated up, feet lifting from the ground. “Because me and ol’ Cass here have got big plans, and I’ll be damned if I let my fiancé’s boy toy get in the way.”
“You mean the fiancé you’re actively trying to kill?” Roman asked, circling the warlock and looking for an opening to strike.
“Details, details,” Paris said, arching an eyebrow. “But don’t worry, Blackwood. I’ll let you have her corpse when we’re done. I figure it’s the least we can do.”
“How about, instead of that, I promise to kill you quickly? How does that sound?”
“Like delusions of grandeur.” Paris chuckled. “But hell, what do I know? I’m just a Grade A warlock badass with enough pent up energy to blow a hole in that handsome face of yours.” His licked his teeth. “Hey, there’s an idea! I’ll mess that pretty mug up a little bit. Let’s see how the ladies like you after that.”
Paris blasted a stream of energy toward Roman.
His aching foot and the pain radiating from Julia nearly trapped him in place, but he narrowly jumped out of the way. The power struck a tree behind Roman and turned the damn thing to stone.
Okay, so this wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as Roman thought.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julia ached more than she ever thought imaginable. The urn was burning through her, taking her energy as its own in an effort to wake a strange Romani woman known as the Crawley. Julia was about to unwillingly help Cassandra cement rule over all the witches in Savannah. And for someone like Cassandra, that wouldn’t be good enough. She would never stop.
Julia knew that hunger. She knew the way Cass got when she was on a roll. Savannah would soon look like small potatoes. She would go for Georgia, then the Southeast. Maybe she’d try to rule America altogether. And what then? Would Cassandra try to slam a Wiccan iron fist down on the world as a whole?
And this is where all of it would start: with Julia’s failure, with her death, here in a room that only existed in their shared consciousness. Never had Julia thought she would use her ability to “visit” people to visit Cassandra. Up until now, this type of “travel” had always been reserved for Roman. And yet, here she was, and it was th
e last place she wanted to be.
Maybe Cassandra was right. Maybe all of this could have been avoided if Julia had just kept her eyes open, kept vigilant the way Grandfather had always taught her to.
What would he think of Julia now, as he watched his own daughter die, helpless to stop it? Certainly the old man was flabbergasted, amazed at the shambles his family was now in.
“You have to stop this,” Julia said weakly. The energy was too much. It was searing her, reaching into her and taking everything away.
Cassandra scoffed. “Do I, Juju? I have to stop this? And why would I do that when I’m so close to having everything I ever wanted? When Savannah is teetering on the edge of a knife and only I can control which way it falls?” She looked Julia up and down, disgust plain on her face. “I am a heartbeat away from complete power, from no one ever being able to tell me what to do ever again. Never again will I feel second best. Never again will I look at you and see anything other than a joke and a failure—the woman who let her heart and libido blind her so much that she let her entire coven crumble around her. You’re the past, Julia. You’re the past, and I’m the future. So no. I don’t think that I have to stop this.”
Julia took a deep breath, closing her eyes and listening to the voices in her head. “I wasn’t talking to you, Cass.”
The ancestors roared into her head, pushing through the pain and the fear, breaking past the ringing in her ears and the taste of blood that had permeated her mouth.
She listened as they gave her pieces of a spell unlike any she’d ever heard before. This magic didn’t require elements or herbs. It didn’t even require words and emotion.
She just had to tap into what they were handing her. The ancestors were giving Julia a gift. All she needed was to accept it.
She opened her eyes as the ancestors’ spell went into effect.
A pulse of energy, running concurrently with her heartbeat, shot out from Julia and passed through the room. A blinding light accompanied it and, when it passed, the urn fell away from her, clanging against the ground below.
She felt her power rush back to her and gasped as the energy pumped back through her veins. She felt free now, whole in a way she never realized could be taken away.
And more than that, she felt determined.
“Don’t make me do this to you,” Julia said. Her voice was strong again, but her heart was breaking. Cassandra had been her best friend, the closest thing she’d ever have to a sister. Reality simply could not wash away years of memories and emotion.
“Don’t worry, Juju,” Cassandra said, power floating around her in bright red waves. “You’re not going to do anything to me. I promise.”
Cassandra clapped her hands together and hands jutted from the walls. They grabbed Julia’s arms and legs, holding her in place.
There had been a time when this would have made Julia panic. That time, however, had long since passed. She wasn’t the squeamish girl who refused to listen to the dead people whispering in her ears. She was the girl that had been through hell and came riding out the other side with Satan’s scepter as a trophy.
She had been through worse than a couple of ass grabbing walls. When she was done though, they wouldn’t be able to say the same.
She closed her eyes and whispered an ancient incantation. Julia’s entire body went electric.
The hands jerked away, retreating back into the walls and freeing her.
“Impressive,” Cassandra said. “But parlor tricks won’t save you.”
“What about a tornado?” Julia asked.
“What?” Cassandra answered.
“A tornado,” Julia repeated. “Will that save me? Because there’s one behind you.”
No sooner had the words left Julia’s mouth that a swirling twister formed behind Cassandra’s back. It was swift and terrible and it sucked the wicked witch up like some postmodern ironic twist on the Wizard of Oz.
Julia winced as she heard her cousin howl inside the twister. Still, she knew it was necessary. Evil had to be stopped, regardless of the cost.
Julia breathed a touch easier but it would prove premature.
From inside the tornado, she heard another cry from Cassandra. This, however, was a single word: “Thicken!”
The winds slowed, grinding to a halt as they formed a still, glasslike structure around Cassandra.
Julia’s eyes went wide as Cassandra punched the glass, shattering it.
The pieces floated in midair, obviously under Cassandra’s control. Julia turned away to shield herself as the glass shards flew toward her. The first of the shards drove into her back, causing her to stumble forward.
They came faster after that, a torrent of sharp hell unleashed on her. Small cuts became large divots in her flesh, and she tasted blood strong and metallic in her mouth.
So this was it. After all she had been through and overcame, this was how Julia would die.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The stone piece of the tree snapped in half. With the bottom half still wood, it didn’t surprise Roman that it wasn’t able to support its new weight.
Still, for the second time in just a few moments, Roman saw a tree falling toward him. This one, however, would crush him if he didn’t move his ass fast enough.
He rolled, whispering an incantation as he did.
The grass was full of chlorine and, long ago, his father had taught him to use that to make himself invisible.
It would take a lot but, lucky for Roman, he had to roll a long way.
He pulled at the grass as the stone trunk shattered into a thousand pieces just shy of where he lay.
Paris stood over him, power still crackling around him. “You should get comfortable down there,” he snarled. “Because you ain’t never getting’ back up!”
He blasted another bolt of energy at Roman who spun again, this time uttering an enchantment. Pulling at the elements covering him, he bent the light around himself.
Paris blinked hard as he looked around. Obviously, the incantation had worked. Using his newfound invisibility, Roman rushed toward Julia. He had come here to save her, and nothing short of that would be a victory.
Let Paris scream and shoot stone magic until his red hair turned blue. None of that mattered. He was going to save his girl.
As he neared Julia, his heart sped faster. Sweat gleamed off her forehead, and a pained expression marred her features. She was hurting, perhaps even dying.
Roman reached for his love as he neared her, but a jolt of energy knocked him flat on his ass.
“Fuck!” he screamed as the power shot through him. She was spelled. The jolt shook his concentration, and the bend of light around him fell away.
Paris’s attention snapped toward him. “Thought you could run?” he asked, starting toward him. “Or is that considered hiding? I can’t ever get the straight of that.”
Paris shot another bolt of energy at Roman. The damn Louisiana boy was right: there was no use running anymore, and there was sure as shit no sense hiding.
This was happening now, right this instant. Julia needed him, and if he had to beat Paris to death with his bare hands to get to her, then that was what he would do.
Roman threw his hands out, ready to take the brunt of whatever Paris had to throw at him. The Louisiana warlock was strong. Roman knew that firsthand.
But as he braced himself, the dark magic of his family bubbled up in his gut. It wrapped around him, lighting up his insides with a fire unlike any he’d ever known and seeping out of his pores.
Paris’ magic struck hard, knocking Roman backward but not harming him. The dark magic had formed a barrier. Wrapped him up and provided a shell against the other man’s onslaught.
Tapping into the anger that had been simmering within him for the last eighteen months, Roman fought back.
Energy swirled around him, lifting him off the ground and holding him steady. He could feel everything now, including the magic that surrounded Julia. It was strong, fatal even in
the right doses. Too powerful for even the likes of Paris.
Cassandra had undoubtedly created this. Which meant that, even if he did take Paris out, the barrier between him and Julia would still be up.
Paris screamed something at Roman that he didn’t care to understand. The red-headed man’s next energy blast was as futile as it was short-lived.
Roman snatched him up, using his dark magic to hold the man still. Then, with rage slamming hard against his brain, he threw Paris toward Julia.
He wanted her. Well, now he was going to get her.
When Paris knocked into Julia, he got caught up in the electric energy surrounding her body. It shook him violently. He tried to move, but Roman wouldn’t allow it, holding him in place while the failsafe Cassandra put in place toasted him.
The dark magic dulled all of Roman’s senses. There was nothing but magic. No feel. No sound. Paris’ face twisted, his skin turning red, his mouth wide open.
He was screaming. Though Roman couldn’t hear it, it still rattled him. Paris was far from his favorite person, but to watch someone in such pain was torturous to Roman’s soul.
Still, it needed to be done. Roman squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. Julia was priority number one, and using Paris was the only way to save her.
When Roman sensed calm, he turned his gaze back to Paris. It was over. The Louisiana boy was quiet. Still. Slowly Roman’s senses filtered back in, and he watched as the energy around Julia popped and disintegrated.
Finally, he dropped Paris, leaving him unconscious on the ground below.
After all he had done to Julia and all he planned to do to his own coven, Paris deserved to die. But that was not Roman’s decision to make. It was no more his choice to play god than it was Cassandra’s, and he wasn’t about to become anything like the person he hated most right now.
Rushing to Julia’s side, Roman wasted no time putting his hands on her shoulders, trying to connect with her however possible. Wherever she was, he needed to follow.
