The grass stops swaying now, standing perfectly still.
Donovan looks at me proudly, all macho-looking, and within the next second the grass wraps around Donovan’s body. The long blades of grass choke him, pulling him into their sea.
“Donovan!” I scream. I run forward when the blades stop moving once more. I step back, unable to hear him from inside the field. I look up, noticing Emily now gone. The roots beneath me vibrate and snake out of the ground, sticking onto my legs and holding me in place.
***
“Eliza, wake up.”
My head is throbbing with pain; I open my eyes. I realize Donovan isn’t here with me.
“I said wake up!”
I sense something about to happen. Honestly, these weird predictions are driving me crazy; it’s like uncontrolled anxiety. I roll my body to the side of the bed, and a heavy object slams down beside me.
My blankets fly up, covering my face, and my heart is beating faster now that this is happening and I’m feeling the actions coming at me before they come.
Another vision runs through my mind and I’m aware of something else about to happen. Hands grip my neck, yanking me up and flinging me out of my bed. I crash against a wall and slide to the floor, the wind knocked out of me. Blonde hair swings around in front of me as this person flips in my direction. Her lips curl up into the corner of her mouth into a smirk.
Emily Woods stands in front of me. Her body is slimmer than mine, and she is lighter than me. She’s the elf who killed Stacy Meyer purposefully and the lookalike Miss Canary. I remember her talking to Stacy outside of a building, like they were planning something. Or she was aiding Stacy in corrupting her boyfriend David Small. Why did she bring Donovan and me to this place? Is this some sort of trap?
I take a breath and the air I inhale pinches inside my throat. Sunlight is warming up the room, and I remember the grass sucking me into the field before I went blank. My gaze wanders around the room.
Dark green walls glimmer against the sun’s rays with gold and silver lines, swirling on the top of the ceiling and at the bottom of the floor. The room is forest-like and comforting. Behind Emily is the bed I was forced out of; it’s buried in flowers.
My eyes search for Donovan, checking to see if he’s here. Everything is coming back to me as I vaguely recall what happened earlier. Donovan was swallowed in the tall grass, and Emily stood eyeing me like she didn’t care.
I walk around the room, exploring the large space. After everything begins to feel normal, I experience an aching pain of anxiety once more. I place my back against the wall and slide to the side. Exhaling in disbelief, the air whips against my cheek, and a sharp slice grazes the tip of my ear. I trace my skin with my middle finger and blood trickles down toward the center of my palm. In my peripheral vision there is a sharp blade lodged into the wood; it’s a silver dagger.
Taking a deep breath, I glance at Emily.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she says, smirking.
I’m becoming angrier by the second. Why would she try and kill me? First choking and yanking me out of the bed, then missing my cheek by an inch with a dagger?
“Oh, someone’s upset, I see. I can sense it. You’re filled with pitiful feelings and vexatious emotions.”
Emily whirls around, walking toward the bed. Twirling around to me, she swiftly throws another dagger. This time I’m prepared. The dagger flies my way, cutting through the air. I side-step to the left, and the dagger stabs the wall. I lock my eyes onto Emily, who’s grinning devilishly. She brushes her long, wavy hair from her face. “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. Of course, I’m not promising anything,” she sneers.
The door opens and a guy walks into the room. “Don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh, Em?” His hazel green eyes study me carefully as I stand against the wall. His defined jaw really makes him appear charming. There’s a slight grin across his perfect face and one dimple on his right cheek. “Give the witch some slack,” he says.
I allow my eyes to trace the markings on his neck all the way down into his wrinkled, unbuttoned shirt. He’s wearing cut up brown shorts, revealing his calves. I take in a sharp breath when I see the green markings I noticed in the forest last night. Flashes of memory race within my mind.
“Go back to your little treehouse, Christian. This is between me and the witch.”
Christian? I swear I’ve heard that name somewhere…
“Where am I?” I snap, annoyed from how she’s toying with me. “Where’s Donovan?”
“Don’t ask me questions. I hate them.”
I glance at the dagger in the wall next to me, grab the weapon, twirl around, and chuck it at her, ending with a sharp fling. It slices through the air toward Emily, and her eyes grow wide in shock that I’d have the nerve to throw one back at her.
Christian steps in front of the elf, snatching the sharp weapon midair. His eyes slide to me. “Well that wasn’t nice.”
“You tried to kill me?” Emily says in disbelief.
I imagined her falling down with the dagger stuck in her face, and my heart sinks as soon as this thought runs through my head. I push the thoughts back deep down inside my skull.
“You’re a witch all right. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Christian says, tossing the dagger on the bed.
“Killing mystics is kind of our thing,” I say.
The two elves in the room look directly at me.
Emily darts toward me at the speed of light, flips, and tumbles, coming to a stop in front of me. She slaps my face, grips two handfuls of my hair, and slams me against the wall. She jabs me in the stomach with her knee and I huff in pain, falling to the floor.
“Welcome to Ellevil,” she says.
She yanks the other dagger she threw at me from the wall. The two elves soon leave out of the room, muttering something I cannot hear to each other.
Their movements are as light as a feather, and not a single sound is made.
Chapter 2
I skim the white floor with my hands; it’s so clear I can see my reflection. I stare at my face. I flutter my long eyelashes, revealing my light green eyes.
“She’s tough.” I glance at the person standing in the middle of the doorway. Donovan’s blue eyes scrutinize my every move.
“I guess. I don’t know.”
“Looks like you got your ass kicked. What a rookie you are.” He lifts his hand, covering his mouth to contain his laughter. His leather jacket crackles with his movements. He steps across the floor to where I lay paralyzed. Cool, he witnessed a brutal cat fight. I lift up my glare to look around him.
“Why are you such a jerk?” I say under my breath.
I stand up, fixing myself. My jacket is on the bed in front of me, and I snatch it up. My broomstick is lying on top of the scattered bedsheets. I close my eyes as everything fades to black. I inhale the cold air through my nose; a massive headache pounds against my skull. I remember my mother on the cold ground and a white haired guy walking through a portal in my living room. The image flashes to Jared sitting on Eric’s shoulder. They are all out of order, and none of it is making any sense to me.
Rubbing my forehead, I sigh in annoyance, tucking my broomstick into the strap around my waist.
Donovan walks toward me carefully and reaches for my broomstick, his chest bumping my back. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing,” I say.
He takes my weapon as the button glows red, hovering his thumb over it.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking if it’s hexed with some weird elf shit. I don’t want them killing you off so fast. Not saying you’ll make it through or anything.” He studies the weapon and then tosses the broomstick up for me to catch.
“Don’t smirk like that. You look like your brother.” I roll my eyes, brushing by him and hearing his raspy chuckle.
Donovan is the guy who’s been saving me from mystics. Eric, his brother, is evil. He sent corrupt mermaids out to
kill me in Virginia Beach. I don’t know why he would do such a thing though, and if he’s a witch like Donovan, aren’t we supposed to be all on the same side? Even though in my grimoire, a book that’s been passed down from witch to witch in my family, it states not to ever trust a male. Basically, all guys are part of the Verel, an evil male witch gang. I’m sure if Donovan was one he’d use me to carry his evil witch children. Sure, I might’ve skimmed through some parts in the book, okay maybe the whole book, but seriously missing key information about the Verels in witch culture just isn’t a smart thing to do.
I purse my lips, flip my hair, and walk to the door.
“God, I love that attitude.”
We walk down a hall in the castle we are in, me trailing my fingers along on the felt-type wallpaper. I glance back and see Jack Ass has his hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.
“Love the hair.”
“Shut up.”
He glances away from me, directing his gaze somewhere else. I chuckle and stroll toward a big clear window through which some sun creeps inside the castle. Placing the tip of my fingers on the glass in front of me, I gaze off into the world we jumped into. Donovan stands next to me, his shoulder brushing mine. His jaws clench, outlining his face.
White doves fly by in front of our eyes. I look down at the tall grass that swallowed Donovan, and across from the glittering grass is the crystal blue ocean next to the forest we ran out of. Above it all, the leaves dance with the wind, allowing their pink and green mist to color the sky. My eyes follow the waves of mist, landing on a guy who is running into the woods. I notice the markings on his leg and can’t help but think if this is the guy who caused Donovan to hallucinate.
The tiny hairs on my skin prickle up, causing me to shudder slightly. Donovan’s hands are around my hips. I twist around, looking up at him. His chest stops moving for a second, and one last breath leaves his parted lips.
“Calm down, your broomstick fell.”
I guess I didn’t notice it dropping to the floor.
“It’s Eliza.” I lift my eyes up at his.
“What?”
“My name. It’s, um, Eliza.”
He knows my fake first name, because I thought he was a stalker. Well, it wasn’t really a fake name. He loosens his grip around my hips. My ears twitch slightly; I sense someone near. I hear the stranger take a step, and the vibrations from the person’s shoes cause my eyes to blink toward the spot. Donovan notices my reaction and narrows his eyes.
“Someone’s around that corner.” I walk over to the edge, but he grabs my wrist, pulling me back. “What are you doing? Let go of me.” I yank away my wrist, shooting him a glare.
“Listen to me, I don’t know where we are. I don’t trust these elves here,” Donovan says, fixing his jacket.
“You weren’t killed in the grass, so I don’t know why you wouldn’t trust them.”
“That’s not the point I’m trying to make.” He shifts his position in front of me.
I roll my eyes, walking in the direction of the sounds. Donovan grabs my waist, pushing me against a wall.
“I’m serious, Rose. These are mystics, and if you affiliate with them, I don’t know if I’ll be able to save you this time.”
“My broomstick is working now, so you won’t need to.”
“You barely know how to work it.”
“You’re really serious this time, huh?”
“I always am.” The vibration I’m feeling on the floor becomes an audible sound, and I look up past Donovan’s neck. I catch a flash of green moving away from sight.
“I’m sure we’ll be okay. Let’s scope out the place in the meantime.”
We walk around the large building, passing glowing walls of green and glancing up at the vaulted ceilings. I follow the sounds from outside of my room with Donovan. I hear laughter in a room we walk by, and striding upstairs I spot a large glass window that stretches horizontally across the space we wander into.
I place my palm on the glass and look around at the many books on the other side of the room. “Wow.” I notice one book in particular glowing on a table, in a cube with thin strands of dark green vines wrapped around it. “I wonder what could be so special about that book.”
Donovan looks at me, annoyed that we’re even up here.
“Would you try to at least try being amused?”
“No.” He makes a huffing noise, looking away from the library in the elven castle.
I sense something is approaching us. “I think elves are coming,” I say.
“What happened to being so chill about the place? Now you’re all worried,” Donovan says.
“I’m serious.” Grabbing Donovan’s hand, I pull him into the shadows of the hallways. We need to get back down to the entrance. A bunch of elves are running up the steps. I place my hand on Donovan’s chest, pushing him back slightly to stay out of sight.
I can feel how warm he is from the shirt he’s wearing. I’m unaware where I’m touching. He glances down at my hand as I remove it. Light hazel green eyes beam on us from behind Donovan in the darkness.
“Do not fight us,” the voice says.
Donovan turns around, grabbing nothing but air. My mouth is covered by rough hands and I scream, kicking my way out of the grips that hold me up.
The elves come from behind him, knocking Donovan out and carrying him in my direction.
I fight to free myself from the many elves carrying my body downstairs. Donovan’s head is lying to the side limply. He doesn’t look alive. I direct my glare to Emily, who’s helping the elves carry him. She looks somewhere else while she swings her bow.
We enter back into the main hallway of gold and white colors. The walls are alive, glowing, and there is a line of elves standing there with their green eyes and slightly pointed ears following us. They do not move or speak.
A child elf runs out in the middle. “Mommy, a witch!” The mother runs for the kid, picking her up and stepping away from me carefully. She whispers something to her child, stepping back behind the crowd. Her markings on her chest glow with her breathing; she has roots and leaves woven into her hair.
Elves are rather strange creatures, and the ones I’ve seen back in the real world are always running away. They never fight unless they really need to kill someone. I press my lips together to calm down from the freezing grips on my skin. I move my head around to see if Donovan is all right. He must’ve woken back up from being knocked out. It’s my fault we were captured. I was the one who wanted to check out the library. In front of me, two double doors are kicked open; elves are walking on top of tables. Some are sitting down eating from their wooden plates. The girls on the tables gracefully wave their arms around in peace, our commotion disturbing their vibe.
“Ahh, Eliza. Welcome dear,” a light voice greets me. Miss Canary grins, sitting in a large throne in front of us. The elves rush us up to her, tossing Donovan and me on the floor. The Miss Canary who wore sundresses all the time is not present. Her blonde hair is down, that’s a first, and she’s wearing a white dress with dark green and gold lines wrapping around the fabric.
Her green eyes glimmer. She throws a deadly glance at Donovan and pulls out a dagger.
Donovan was close to killing Miss Canary at her house, then she ended up running off into the woods. Donovan said he couldn’t find her because elves weren’t killable as soon as they stepped into the forest. After last night, I think I understand why they aren’t killable. This also means we were in the place they’d run off to in the woods.
Her eyes flutter up to Donovan, and he locks his glare on her fiercely. “So glad to have you two here with us,” she says, allowing her henchmen to step back. “Don’t try to run and don’t try to attack.” She crosses her slim leg across her knee. “Look around you. There’s about a million, highly combat trained—”
“Why did Emily bring us here?” Donovan cuts in.
“She didn’t bring you here. You did, Eliza.” She looks up at me with
a sly grin. “It was your choice to come here.” She switches her stare to Donovan. “Both of you.”
“Well I don’t feel good about this place and would like to leave.” I rivet my attention on the elves cartwheeling and walking step by step, cautious not to mess up their table’s fancy silverware. Their graceful movements come off as if they’re on a balance beam.
Miss Canary shakes her head, letting her fingers tap her chin, thinking. “I can’t let two witches leave. How do I know you won’t tell other witches of this place?”
Other witches? From what I know, Donovan and I are the only ones alive.
He looks over at me, indicating he must’ve been thinking the same thing.
“Let’s make a deal.”
“We’re not doing any deals with a bunch of mystics.” Donovan clicks on his broomstick, stepping in front of me in defense. I don’t know why he thinks he needs to protect me so much, my broomstick is working now, and I think I can handle myself. To show him that I am fine, I step to the side, pulling out my broomstick and pressing it on. Purple metal slides out of its hole, the glare from my eyes reflecting off its blade. The elves on the three tables behind us flip off, landing on the floor. An arrow shoots from behind us, stabbing into the wall next to Miss Canary. She grins, looking up at the person who shot the arrow.
“Now, now, Emily, I’m sure these two will cooperate.”
“Whatever,” Donovan growls. He looks up at the elf in front of him. “I don’t trust her or this place, Eliza.”
I sense something is about to happen. I can’t figure out what—until it happens. I have this pinch inside my head. I swing my sword in the air, blocking a potential attack. A piece of an arrow drops below my feet, cut in half from my blade.
Emily plays with the string on her bow. She grins at me and flicks her eyes up at Miss Canary.
“I thought so,” Miss Canary says.
“Thought what?” I say.
My markings glow, freezing on my arm. Emily’s markings light up as well, along with every other elf in this room. I step back, bumping into the edge of a table. A glass drops to the ground. I know this before it happens. I bend down swiftly to it.
Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) Page 2
