Origin: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 1)

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Was it to save face? He clearly wasn’t arresting her, so if he’d protected her from the old woman, she might have reported him. That would likely mean his job…and possibly also his life. It would make him a traitor. So, of course, he let the old woman take Adira.

  Maybe it was for the best. If the old woman killed Adira, she wouldn’t have to face a ravager or the regent.

  On the other hand, Adira had heard some horror stories of the way some vendors dealt with thieves. At least death by a ravager would be quick.

  Adira gave the woman a sideways glance. No, she wasn’t the type. She wasn’t like the butchers in the market. She wasn’t a killer.

  Was she?

  Adira was certain the stress of the situation alone would be enough to end her life. But before long, they arrived at large, dilapidated building with boarded windows.

  As they approached the door, Adira became more resistant to walk at the woman’s side. “I’ll replace the fruit,” she said. “I’ll pay you for it, or I’ll work it off somehow.”

  The old woman did not speak, and her firm grasp did not loosen. Apparently, Adira had taught her the better of that when she’d escaped back at the market earlier.

  Once inside, the woman led Adira up narrow, creaking flight of stairs, and then turned a corner to lead her down an even narrower hall with crooked floorboards. At the end of the hall, adjacent to one of the boarded-up windows where only a sliver of light sliced through, the old woman fished a ring of keys from her skirt pocket and unlocked a door.

  As it swung open, Adira realized the doors seemed to be the only thing kept up in the whole building. The locking mechanism was perfect, and where everything else in the building seemed about to crumble, the door looked sturdy and new.

  “Here we are,” the woman said with no emotion in her voice.

  Adira looked around the small, dusty room. An armoire stood catty-cornered in one corner of the room, and a metal frame with a mattress butted up against one of the walls on the other side of the room. The small nightstand beside the bed was bare.

  “Where is…here?” Adira asked.

  “Home,” the woman said. “This is your room.”

  Then she turned and left.

  Please tell me this isn’t a brothel.

  Adira’s breaths came in short. She circled the room, tight to each wall, looking for some way out. The window. She darted across the room and yanked at the edges of the plywood boarding up the window, but it didn’t budge. She tried the second window—same problem.

  It was just plywood and nails. There had to be a way to get them open.

  Adira checked in the armoire and the nightstand drawer, but there was nothing she could use to pry the boards with. Again, she pulled with her hands, her fingernails starting to bleed before she stepped back and took a deep breath, remembering what she was capable of.

  Ha. She’d spent her whole life trying not to use magic, so much so that now half the time, she forgot she could. That must have been why Alec wasn’t worried to let her go. He knew she would get out of here. Now she just needed to think up the right spell.

  She still had the cloves in her pouch from the marketplace, though that wouldn’t do her much good now. She could create a rune symbol on the plywood, but she would need something to carve with.

  Adira heaved a sigh and looked around again. Well, if all else failed, she could just break out the next time the door opened. Problem with that was, there would likely be two people there the next time…the old woman and some john.

  Adira’s skin prickled at the thought. She was not going to be that person. That could not happen to her. She would get out of here and…and…do something to get whoever else was there out, too.

  Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, Adira counted back from ten to clear her mind. Okay. When she opened her eyes, she would truly see the room. She would see past her panic and see a way out. She had to.

  Adira’s eyes fluttered open again. Once more, she scanned the room. Slower this time. Step by step. Inch by inch. Unhurried, like someone who was trapped with nothing better to do…which was exactly what she was.

  Finally, she found something—a small piece of glass. It wasn’t much, but it must have been from one of the windows before they were boarded up.

  Once back to the window, Adira carved the Uruz rune into the wood. Power. Creative force. A gateway. It was the rune she needed.

  “Osvobodit,” she whispered. Break free.

  Nothing happened.

  “Osvobodit,” she said, louder. “Osvobodit!”

  Still nothing.

  Adira’s hands curled into fists at her side. This didn’t make sense. Her magic was a little rusty, but what the hell? This was a simple spell.

  She walked up to the window and placed her palm over the carved Uruz symbol. Maybe she would get more if she asked for less. All she needed was a start.

  “Tříska,” she said firmly. Splinter. “Tříska!”

  “Damn it!” She pounded her fist against the wood, but all that did was make her hand ache and swell. “Why won’t you open?”

  Adira sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to cry, holding back the urge to rip the room apart—for all the good it would do to try when she couldn’t even get the damn plywood off the window.

  Her anger and frustration built in her until she could take no more. She was getting out of here, even if that meant using the one magical word she’d been warned to never, ever use.

  Before she could calm down, she was already halfway across the room, her arm outstretched, the angriest, darkest word leaving her lips. “Smrt.”

  Death.

  The board blew open, revealing the city in the distance below for only a moment before Adira’s world went dark.

  When Adira awoke, she was in the bed. Her gaze darted to the window. The board was already back in place.

  It looks exactly the same.

  She squinted, becoming more and more certain it was the same board.

  But that would be impossible.

  “For someone so smart,” came a voice from by the door, “you are very stupid.”

  Adira’s gaze darted to the voice, finding none other than the old woman standing there. She walked farther in to the room, the door already closed—and undoubtedly locked—behind her.

  “What do you want from me?” Adira asked, sitting up and moving as far from the woman as possible.

  The woman’s mouth puckered into a scowl, and she looked down her nose at Adira. “You have potential for greatness, but you run from it. You hide. You are perhaps the strongest witch in this sector that I have ever witnessed, and yet you use magic like a child!” Her tone turned angry at the end, and she threw her hand throw up. “Psh. All emotion. No sense. No control.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Like a bulldozer,” the woman muttered. “Because you were so wrapped up in yourself you didn’t realize the window was enchanted. You could have removed that spell and plucked the board right off the window with mere human strength. But look what you did instead.”

  Adira stood now. “If you know so much about this, then why even leave me here alone? If I could have, like you said, so easily escaped.”

  The old woman waved her off. “Aye, I had you pegged for a fool the moment I laid eyes on ya. I just wanted to see what you would do if left on your own. Now come on. Dinner won’t eat itself.”

  This time, the woman opened the door and walked down the hall without Adira firm in her grasp. And Adira followed. Down the hall, down the stairs, past the front door—Adira’s path to freedom—and down another, wider hall that led into a large room overflowing with chatter.

  The old woman never looked back to see if Adira was following. It was as if she knew. She had Adira’s attention now. Her curiosity.

  As Adira stepped into the great room, she saw where all the noise was coming from. Over a dozen children, small to tall, sat around one long table. They laughed; they shared food. One of
the younger ones floated a roll from across the table, then grabbed it midair and dipped it into gravy. Another child stole a handful of grapes from a platter. None of them seemed to even notice that Adira and the old woman had walked in.

  Except for one—a lanky young man with dark hair and round, wire-frame glasses. He swiveled in his seat to face the dining room entrance.

  “Miss Balek,” he said.

  The old woman raised her hand. “Settle down, settle down. We have a new arrival.”

  The room grew quiet. All eyes turned to Adira.

  “This is Adira,” Miss Balek said.

  Adira’s eyebrows knit together. “I didn’t tell you—”

  “And yet I knew,” Miss Balek said with a smile. “You have a lot to learn, but I think we should start with what a full belly and a proper sleep feels like. Please. Sit down.”

  Miss Balek swept her hand toward the table, and the lanky young man moved over, making room for Adira. She sat beside him, realizing now that the man wasn’t as young as she originally thought. His jaw was shaded with a light shadow and he was, perhaps, a good head taller than she was.

  He broke some bread and put it on Adira’s plate. “Radana has cooking duty this week, so it’s all edible,” he said, using thongs to place some meat on Adira’s plate along with a handful of grapes and cubes of cheese. “Trust me, you’ll want to get your share now, because Kveta takes over tomorrow, and she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what we eat.”

  Adira used her finger to pull the plate closer and rip off a piece of bread to nibble on. “Thanks,” she said between bites. “And you are?”

  The young man dusted his hand against his pants, then held it out to her. “Erik.”

  She took his hand and gave it a quick shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adira. But I guess you already knew that.”

  “Not until a few minutes ago,” Erik said, his eyebrows rising. “That’s Miss Balek’s thing. I can’t read minds, and frankly, don’t want to. Would you want to know everything everyone is thinking?”

  The thought turned over in her mind. “To be honest, right now, it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Erik’s finger punctured the air beside his head. “That’s what you think!”

  A short girl with long, raven curls bustled past them, picking up Erik’s plate along the way.

  He lunged after her. “Hey, I wasn’t finished!”

  “You are now,” she said, throwing a smirk back at him.

  Erik locked his gaze with Adira’s. “Be right back.” He leapt over the bench seat and darted after the girl, who ran off in a swirl of giggles and bouncing curls. Erik pursued her until he seemed to slam into an invisible wall, which made the smaller of the children at the table burst into a fit of laughter so sincere that one of them fell over sideways.

  Adira slouched in her seat, picking at the meat and cheese. This place was…nice. Happy. And the food was good. But she felt wrong eating it, wrong being here. After all, she’d tried to steal from the woman who’d brought her there.

  Adira looked up at Miss Balek, who was smiling warmly at her. As if all was forgiven. As if she were happy Adira had stolen from her cart. As if everything was going to be okay.

  And maybe it would be. Until Alec came for her.

  Then she would be forced to face a ravager, and there was no way this place could teach her all she needed to know to survive that. Not in thirteen short days.

  Chapter 10

  Alec stood at the entrance of a dilapidated building, plum in hand. The gift of tracking was the only permanent gift bestowed on the witch hunters by the regent. It was the only magic they had from within. Once a witch had used magic—once they had left their mark on an object—the witch hunters could use that object to track the witch down.

  In this case, the witch was Adira.

  He was just glad she hadn’t attempted to block him. He would have hated to use the raidō mark he’d left on her. That would be…painful. For her.

  Alec’s ability to find her was a reminder of the importance of his life and role within the sector. Regent Dvorak had sacrificed a great deal of magic to pass this tracking ability on to each witch hunter, and should Alec die or fail, the regent would have to find someone to take his place. That meant wasting more magic, which meant Dvorak would run out of magic sooner.

  Which meant…the death of everyone in Sector One.

  Unacceptable.

  He’d promised her thirteen days, and he would honor that, but damned if he wouldn’t do his part to increase the odds that she would succeed against the ravager.

  With one hand gripping the plum so firmly that his fingers dug into the flesh, his other hand banged against the old wooden door.

  When the door swung open, no one was there.

  Something tugged at Alec’s pants. “Hello, mister.”

  His gaze tracked down until he settled on a small girl standing before him. “Oh, hey,” he said, trying to soften himself as not to scare the child. “I’m looking for someone. Perhaps you can help.”

  The girl looked up at him with big, green eyes. “That depends. Are you good or are you bad?”

  Alec pressed his lips together. Good question.

  There was a time he could answer that without hesitating, but right now, faced with this child, he had to admit his role was subjective. To the girl, a man who had come to take someone from her home and bring them to the Guard and into a possibly deadly situation was surely not a good guy.

  But Alec’s reasons were noble, his cause just.

  “Good,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Are there any adults here I can speak to?”

  No sooner had he spoken the words than the old woman came up behind her, resting her palms on the child’s shoulders. “Aye, come already?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re looking for Adira?”

  The little girl tipped her head back to stare up at the old woman. “Why is he looking for Adira?”

  The old woman rubbed her hand down the girl’s arm and smiled. “Don’t worry, Anastazie. Just get along to your chores. Those floors won’t sweep themselves, you know. I’ll take care of our guest.”

  The little girl bounded with amazing energy down the hall and around a corner to a room unseen.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” The old woman held out her hand, drawing Alec’s attention back to her. “I’m Miss Balek.”

  Alec took her hand and dipped his head in a small bow. “Alec, ma’am. Nice to meet you. Formally, that is.”

  Miss Balek stood back and motioned for Alec to come inside. “Adira’s upstairs. Turn right at the landing, last door on the right.”

  “Thank you,” he said, ducking a little as he stepped in. These old building weren’t made for people like him. “I’ll show myself out when I’m done here.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Miss Balek said before shuffling away down the hall.

  Alec took a moment to absorb his surroundings. There was definitely…something…going on here, but he couldn’t quite place it. And yet, the old woman had invited him and left him unattended, as if she had nothing to hide.

  Brushing off his unease, he started up the steps. Some creaked, but it was the one’s that made a splintering sound that worried him.

  A strong wind could blow this place over.

  He hurried up the stairs as gently as a man his size could, then turned down a hall so narrow his shoulders bumped the walls a few times on the way to Adira’s room. When he reached the end, he turned to the door on the right and knocked with more force than he intended.

  “Adira?” he said through the wood.

  No answer.

  Oh, no. Now it made sense. How could he be so easily fooled by such an old trick? While he was winding his way through this maze of a building, Miss Balek was surely sneaking Adira out the back. He knew something was off.

  He pulled at the board blocking the window in the hall in an attempt to see what might be going on outside, but the board woul
dn’t budge.

  Ridiculous!

  He pulled again, harder this time, but nothing. Fury swelling in his gut, he punched the door and cursed under his breath. “When I find her—”

  The door swung open. “When you find me, what?”

  Adira stood before him in a white slip of a dress, her hair falling in loose waves just past her shoulders.

  “You,” he said, scowling at her.

  “Me?” she asked. “You’re the one who almost took the door down because you couldn’t wait two seconds for me to finish getting dressed!”

  Alec stepped into the room and slammed the door behind him. “I thought—”

  “I don’t care what you thought,” she said. “This house can’t take that kind of abuse.”

  “No kidding,” he mumbled, looking back at the door behind him. Normally, his fist would’ve gone straight through. “At least most of it. Apparently, some parts have held up better than others…”

  When he turned back to Adira, she was grinning.

  “I thought I had thirteen days,” she said. “Or are you just that in love with me?”

  With an irritated grunt, Alec reached behind him and pulled out the book he’d taken from the regent, then pushed it toward her. “Here.”

  “Oh,” she said, her expression falling as she assessed the book. “What is it?”

  “It’s a spellbook. I thought it might help you prepare.”

  “Ohhh,” she said again, the utterance even more deflated than the first time.

  “You are working to prepare?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Aren’t you?”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, the book resting in her lap. “I am. Well, I’m trying to.”

  “There is no try. There is do or don’t do.”

  Adira rolled her eyes. “Thanks for that.”

  Alec crouched in front of her on the balls of his feet, resting his elbows against his knees. “What is it?” he asked. “You are strong. You are fast. You are smart. And if the device the regent created is any indication, you’re also extremely powerful.”

  “Forget it,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t get it.”