by Lyla Oweds
Voices drifted around the room, over me. As if my distress wasn’t even their concern. Which, come to think of it, it probably wasn’t.
“N-n-no…” I managed to squeak, even though I knew it was useless. But the sound was only acknowledged by one man.
Daniel Cole slapped his hand over my mouth, and his impassive gaze met mine briefly.
He seemed cautious, and slightly wary, as his eyes drifted to his hand. “Come to think of it,” he said, “I like that idea. Hand me a rag. Gagging her won’t disrupt the ritual, and I don’t trust the tricks that fae play.”
Once his hand lifted, I couldn’t even take in a breath before it became impossible to speak. The cloth had been roughly shoved into my mouth.
Now even if I wanted to plead with them, I couldn’t. My eyes squeezed shut, and I prayed this was a bad dream. But as I turned my head and my gaze fell to display of cutlery on a small wood island beside me, I knew it wasn’t.
My heart raced furiously. Dots swam in my vision. It was too late. There was no more time. The boys weren’t going to make it in time.
I was going to die.
The thought repeated itself over again as the edges of my sanity faded. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the knife.
A rough hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. Another figure moved beside me, and another, until seven men surrounded the table, looking at me and glancing at each other.
Four of them were familiar: Daniel, Dominic, Jeremy, and Ryan. I’d never seen the others before. Five of them turned their focus to Daniel, looking to him for instruction.
“There’s no reason to be concerned. We have at least fifteen minutes to work. By the time the effects wear off entirely, she’ll be on death’s door anyway. That gives us plenty of time.” He nodded at one of the unknown men. “Everyone, to your places. Prepare the spell, and we’ll gather the ingredients.”
And with that, five of the men stepped away, leaving Daniel and Ryan at my side.
Ryan was watching me with that same look he’d worn while whittling. “We’re wasting too much time. Let’s start.”
Daniel rolled his eyes but began speaking under his breath. The same monotone from Lily’s memories. It was a language I didn’t recognize, and certainly didn’t resemble the Chinese dialects I’d gotten used to hearing from the boys’ spellwork.
The same powerful feeling filled the air. My mind blanked. Pain didn’t matter. Everything faded as I twisted earnestly in my bindings. Desperately trying to find some give in my restraints.
No one noticed, or cared. Daniel remained beside me, speaking in the same way that his grandfather had done over Lily. And the others moved throughout the room.
Help wasn’t coming. I had been right all along.
I hated being right.
I was going to be eaten in a cannibalistic ritual. Google hadn’t even given me good advice for this scenario. I would have much preferred to have fallen off a building, to be honest.
The support under my head vanished, and my scream was silenced by my gag. Daniel returned, twisting his fingers through the knot of my hair. In one movement he pulled my head back further, exposing my neck.
My scalp ached at his actions, and I twisted, desperately trying to protect myself. Suddenly, Daniel’s chanting ended in a curse, and a section of my hair was ripped out as he snatched his hand back.
In his grasp was the hairpin that Titus had given me.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking at it and then narrowing his eyes at Ryan. “I told you to burn all of her belongings. You could have ruined the whole ritual with your incompetence.”
A second later, his grip returned to my hair. My view shifted, my world turning upside down. A stinging pain ran across the skin of my neck, but that no longer mattered.
Because there was only one thing I could focus on.
The bright orange flames within the hearth taunted me. And I couldn’t tear my eyes from where Daniel had, so nonchalantly, thrown Titus’s gift.
Dismay filled my senses. It was strange this would be my breaking point, but still…
That was my precious gift. It had belonged to Titus’s mother. And now, it had been destroyed.
Titus was going to be so upset.
Anger twisted through my grief, pushing away my shock. It took control of my thoughts.
How dare he. It was one thing to destroy my stuff and feast on my flesh. But how could he throw away such a sentimental item like it didn’t matter. He didn’t even care.
I hated him—more than I’d ever hated anyone before.
Beneath the anger, something stirred once again. The same feeling I’d fought earlier. Now I welcomed it, embraced it. The fury burned through me.
My chest was still heaving, but this time it was no longer from fear.
Suddenly, the candlelight flickered, and a ripple moved through the air. The change in the atmosphere was noticeable, if the exclamations of worry and alarm were to be believed.
I wasn’t scared anymore.
Not of the sudden tension in the room. Not even because I was about to die. My mind was incapable of holding on to anything beyond my rage.
And that’s when everything changed.
One instant, I was on the table. The next, I was on the floor.
It happened within a second, and I only noticed the change when the bottom of the table swam into view over me.
A shout rang through the room. Ryan and Garrett staggered backward, looking around in alarm. A second later, Ryan spotted me on the floor.
I moved.
It was different now. My body was no longer my own. I ripped out the gag as I rolled to my hand and knees. Ryan backed up, his arms in front of him. He stared at me as if I was something terrible.
“I told you,” he said, trying to distance himself as he spoke to Daniel. “I told you it wasn’t going to work. She can fucking blink.”
“Stop being ridiculous. It’s a slight mishap. We still have time; just catch her!” Daniel commanded as he dropped the blood-lined knife. He moved toward me. “Even the most highly ranked can’t do it more than once in a short period of time.”
My movements came without thought. Everything was smooth and painless. My mind was drifting somewhere in a state between awareness and dreams, and nothing fully registered. My perception of the room was changing constantly. One moment I stood in one corner of the room, and the next second I was in the other.
I felt only anger, and under that, a sense of numbness and survival. Thoughts became black and white.
There were two things I knew for certain: I was trapped with people who wanted to kill me, and I had no choice but to defend myself.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a voice begged me to stop. But the sound was drowned out as I collapsed to my knees. Something had crashed into me, and I was distantly aware that I’d been shot. But still, pain didn’t register.
I was a stranger to myself. My gaze flickered through the room, searching. I didn’t know what for until I spotted it— the ceremonial knife that had recently been used against me.
Upon inspection, I realized it wasn’t a knife at all. It was a dagger.
Which was perfect—considering this was my expertise.
I was confused about my sudden thought for a second before any doubt vanished. The feel of the warm, gold handle was a comforting weight against my palm. I was screaming inside, because I had no idea what I was doing. But I was also relaxed, confident.
Another shot rang through the room, but this time it missed. My ears picked up on the panicked shouts, and I realized what had happened.
In their overconfidence, they’d trapped themselves in the room with me. Now they wanted to leave, but they couldn’t.
I could feel it—magic I could control. Spells designed to deter any interference—including astral crossing—and masked the location of this building.
My tormentors were worried. And rightfully so, they’d stupidly added extra barriers to this room.
A strange sensation rippled through me at the thought. My grip tightened on the handle.
I was alone right now, and would be for some time. If I wanted.
There were three people in the world who could break this particular spell. The first was Daniel, the original caster. He would either have to have time to drop the spell, or die. The second was Miles, the name of Tu’s current incarnation. But to break it, he’d have to know the exact location to target. A general idea would not do.
And then there was me.
The world shifted as the scene changed once again. I crouched behind the edge of a counter as my mind raced. My thoughts felt strange.
I wasn’t certain what had changed, but I wasn’t looking to escape anymore.
Instead, I knew I had to stop them. They needed to be punished. Their past victims deserved revenge. Even if Miles did find me soon, he was too soft-hearted to carry out justice.
Besides, if he did react in a fit of anger, which was rare, he’d regret it later. He was too sympathetic for his own good.
I would do it for him. It was, after all, my responsibility to rid the world of evil magic.
The thought had hardly crossed my mind when the warm spray of blood washed over me. The scene had changed again, and I knelt on the floor. The familiar feeling of flesh tearing through a blade sharpened the dull ache in my shoulder.
But it wasn’t my flesh that had been torn. A man screamed, and the once-standing body above me fell to the ground.
He was dead before he dropped.
One down. Six to go.
All my hesitations had been silenced. I was grateful. It made it easier to focus.
Tainted magic continued to move through the air. It stemmed from the ringleader, Daniel. My vision locked on to his form. He was near a closed door, working desperately to drop the spell.
He wouldn’t make it.
As if he could feel my gaze, his shoulders tensed as he turned to look at me. His pale face whitened further, and he shouted, “Shoot her already! Hurry up, and I’ll get us out of here!”
I narrowed my eyes as another wave of fury crashed through me. I started toward him, but at the last moment noticed another man out of the corner of my eye.
Dominic. The man who’d stolen a kiss from me. He leveled a shotgun in my direction. Even now, he tried to hurt me.
He wouldn’t live to regret it.
A half-second later, his body joined the other on the ground. The gun fell to the ground in two pieces. However, his death was only one part of his punishment. I was looking forward to later, because no matter what happened, his spirit was mine.
That deed done, my focus returned to the leader. He’d given up trying to escape, knowing it was useless. Instead, he’d backed into a corner near the door. Trying to bribe me in placating tones.
He was weaponless. A slight hesitation twisted in my stomach. Was I going to keep doing this?
A cry echoed through my awareness. Something was breaking, vying for my attention. But then it was gone, and I no longer heard anything outside of the ringing in my ears.
An instant later, Daniel Cole lay in a broken heap on the floor.
The moment his blood touched my bare feet, it happened. The screaming I’d been trying so hard to suppress echoed through my head.
I was evil. And with that realization, the knife dropped from my hand.
Although I wasn’t certain if it was because I’d let go, or if it was because the weapon was slick from blood. Nor did I know why the weight of the small weapon was too much. But holding on to it wasn’t something I could handle anymore.
The shooting had stopped, and so had the shouts. The remaining men had retreated to various corners of the room. Begging for mercy.
Should I let them go? Daniel was dead. The spell was broken now. Could I allow them to leave?
Yes, please.
The thought slammed through me, causing me to fall to the floor. An ocean of red surrounded me, staining my legs. Pain was still distant, but began to inch its way back into my awareness.
Slowly, it seeped into my pores. I couldn’t breathe and was becoming fizzy with sick. I was gagging when I heard it.
A horrifying roar. A sound so furious it caused my bones to shake.
Titus.
Somehow, I knew it was him. Although, he sounded so far away.
The survivors began to scramble for the door—they’d heard him too. They stumbled over the bodies of their fallen comrades in their haste.
But my mind pulled back from them, and from the bodies on the ground. Instead, I focused on the dagger. It lay some feet away, covered in the evidence of my crimes.
I couldn’t think too much on it, or I would go crazy.
The events of the last few moments replayed in my head. But still, it didn’t make sense. There was no way I would hurt people.
I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t.
I latched on to that reality as I huddled over, trying to block the sight of the room. But as I pressed my face to my knees, it only drew my attention to the floor—then to my hands—instead.
They were stained with blood. There was so much evil. I didn’t deserve to live.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bianca
White
The remains of magic fell as the door slammed open.
They were here. I was safe. But it didn’t matter. Nothing could change what I’d done. I didn’t even glance up at their arrival. I couldn’t look away from my hands.
A warm body crashed into mine.
The movement jarred me, moving me so I could see my surroundings again. I spotted Titus. He was in his dragon form, and had descended on the men who’d attempted to flee. A yell echoed through the room—Damen racing after Titus.
But my attention couldn’t remain on anything for long.
“Bianca…” Miles’s presence surrounded me, and his arms trembled around my frame.
He held me to him. I wanted to push him away. I didn’t deserve comfort right now. But, despite my self-incriminating thoughts, I couldn’t move. I needed him.
He said my name again, his tone slightly more panicked. I couldn’t find the energy to respond.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
Julian didn’t respond at first, as he directed Miles to hold me against him.
“Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s in shock,” Julian replied. “But I don’t know if any of this blood is hers…” His voice trailed off as his fingers touched my neck. He shook as his other hand reached for my shoulder.
There was a brief moment of silence before he cursed, and his tone was authoritative when he spoke next. “Damen, forget about them. Find me something to help stop this bleeding.”
Something was draped over my legs, and I was moved until my head was pillowed in the space between Miles’s arm and chest. Julian moved in front of me, and my gaze wandered to him.
He was focused on my wounds, his face paler than I’d ever seen it. I wanted to speak to him, but couldn’t think of anything to say. A moment later, Damen stepped into view, holding a dish towel.
Julian directed him to hold it against my neck, and my attention drifted again. I barely noticed as Damen followed Julian’s instructions, or when he pulled out his phone with his other hand. Instead, my focus was captured by the intense expression on Julian’s face.
He looked so worried, but why did he care so much? The evidence was everywhere, showcasing to the world the kind of person I was. How could they even think to be concerned? “J-J-Julian?”
His eyes flickered to my face. “Bianca.” Relief colored his voice. “I’m glad you’re still with us, but don’t talk. Thankfully, the wound on your neck isn’t so deep, but it’s concerning enough. You’ve also been shot. It’s
a miracle you’re still conscious.”
“What happened?” Damen asked me, putting his phone on the floor. Blood was splattered across his chest, although his face was as flawless as ever. Even with the dark circles under his eyes.
I didn’t like seeing him so upset.
Julian glared at him. “I just told her not to talk! Her throat has been cut and there’s a bullet lodged in her shoulder. You can be nosy later.”
How could they still care?
Then, something occurred to me. Something far more important than anything I was suffering. I was so ashamed that I wanted to die.
The boys exclaimed in surprise as I scrambled to my feet. And I dodged their reaching hands as I rushed toward the hearth. Titus was ripping into a pile of human flesh, and I felt terrible that I was thankful for it. Because he was distracted, he might not notice. He would never need to know what an irresponsible person I was.
Before I could get close enough, Damen intercepted me.
“Hold on.” He grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled me to his chest. “What are you—”
“My pin,” I gasped out, my voice scratchy. I twisted my hands, trying to pull from his hold. I had already screwed up everything else; I couldn’t mess this up too. “Let me go.”
“Darling, relax and let us handle it. You’re going to collapse.” Julian stepped beside me, touching my face. His blue eyes swam in my vision, and I slumped into Damen’s hold, suddenly overcome with a sense of peace.
But it only lasted a second before the memories returned. Their blood was still wet on my skin. The smell of death still thick in the air.
The feeling of someone’s life draining away under my hands was not so easily forgotten.
This was the only thing I could do right now. So when I was sent away, Titus would still have a part of his mother with him. A sick sweat had begun to break out over me, and I could feel my body trembling. “No!”
“Titus!” Miles’s urgent voice snapped in the background. “Get over here!”
Almost immediately, he was at my other side—naked, of course, but my mind was too full to care.
Titus picked me up without a word, holding me to him as if I weighed nothing. His firm touch, rather than frightening me, soothed the raw edges of my panic. He might hate me soon enough, but he wasn’t going to hurt me right now.
