The Witch Collector Part II

by Loretta Nyhan

  My mind reeled. “Do what?”

  He tilted his head, and his face shifted, suddenly gaunt, his features falling into shadow. “Please say you will,” he whispered. “Please.”

  I gasped, understanding what he was really saying. “You’re dying. . . .”

  “Yes. Unless you help me I will die.”

  I stared at him. “You want to take my gifts.”

  He shook his head violently. “I want to take one gift. You’ve had a chance to acquire more than one, haven’t you? My brother told me you’d transitioned.”

  “Of course. It was you who spoke with Ion. You told him to meet you here.”

  “He hasn’t transitioned yet,” Brandon said derisively. “I’m not even sure if he’s unmarked anyway.”

  “He isn’t,” I said quickly. “He can’t help you.”

  “But you can. It will work, Breeda. You’re very strong. My father always said he thought you were the strongest of us all. He ended up being so weak. Everyone at Seaside was a disappointment.”

  “But not Sonya,” I said, a cold fury taking hold. “Sonya was never weak.”

  “No,” he said. “She wasn’t. But she also wasn’t unmarked. You’re different.”

  I needed to get through to him, so I tried another tactic. “Don’t you understand? If you take my magic, it could kill me.” I reached out, touching his forearm. I wanted him to feel me, to remember.

  Brandon leaned in, warming to my touch. Hope flared within me. I smiled at him. Maybe he wasn’t completely lost.

  A sliver of light broke through the darkness in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my shaking body, pressed his cheek against mine. I stifled a shudder.

  “It’s you,” I murmured. “See? Still you.”

  He buried his face in my hair, taking in my scent. “You do have your gifts. I can feel it. Let me try this, Bree. Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  I froze.

  He felt it and took a step back. “Does it matter to you if I die?”

  “How could you ask that?”

  His mouth pressed into a thin, cold line. “That’s not an answer. Let me ask a different question—do you want to see your parents again?”

  I couldn’t mask my disgust any further. I glared at him. “Let them go. They’ve done nothing to you.”

  “After,” he said. “Now I need an answer. Will you help me?”

  I wanted to scream. If it would bring them back to me, then yes, I’d do it; I’d try anything. But was he telling the truth? “I want to see them.”

  “We don’t have enough time,” he snapped, touching the stone around his neck. I heard a sharp crack, and another electrical wire whipped against the balcony, missing me by inches. He was trying to get me to use my magic.

  It was working. My nerves hummed with it. “Stop!” I shouted. “Please, Brandon!”

  “You must be wearing your talisman. Is that it, on your wrist?” he asked, his voice smooth as butter. “How does it feel?”

  Magic rippled through me with a force I could barely contain.

  Another live wire snapped at my feet. I struggled with the powerful force rolling through my veins—every cell in my body wanted to fight back, yearned for it. My hand automatically went to my talisman, hovering just above the star sapphire.

  “Go ahead,” he demanded. “Show me what you’ve collected.”

  I searched his eyes for a glimmer of the light I’d seen before, for a fragment of the person I once knew. “If you take my magic,” I said, steadying my voice, “I’ll die. It’s not going to work. I’m sure we can find another way.”

  His eyes held nothing but darkness. “I have to try. Why is that so difficult to understand?” He grasped his talisman again and the sparking electrical wires moved toward me with the slow, murderous intent of snakes marking their prey. They buzzed and popped, the electricity surging.

  I looked at him, at this boy I once loved—this boy who once loved me—took a deep, cleansing breath, and reached for my talisman.

  Chapter 17

  “Breeda!” Miro yelled.

  Horrified, I watched Miro, Shelley, and Vadim run into the backyard below, hands at their talismans. Ion stumbled after them, falling onto the cement patio at the demon’s body. He crawled backward, screaming for someone to use magic.

  “Don’t!” I shouted.

  “Let her go!” Shelley called to Brandon. “You still have to get through us.”

  Brandon ignored her, his hand returning to his blackened amethyst. The electrical wires rose up, cobras ready to strike.

  Shelley grasped her talisman, a ball of fire appearing.

  I dove for the railing. “No!” I screamed. “No magic. He’ll kill you!”

  Brandon’s attention jolted toward Shelley. They locked eyes and the ball of fire immediately dispersed, tendrils of black smoke rising through the air. For one long second I stopped breathing, but Shelley just blinked up at us, wincing at the bright security light, apparently unharmed.

  Shocked, Brandon stared at the black burn marks on his fingers. “She didn’t die,” he said, elation masking his pain. “She didn’t die!”

  I heard a crack: the sound of wood splitting. Under Brandon’s feet, the balcony began to shake. A support beam broke away from the wall, sending the balcony floor tipping to the side. The electrical wires dropped and slid to the ground below, fizzing and snapping.

  Brandon found his footing, grabbing the railing of the balcony with one hand and his talisman with the other. I lunged for him, but it was too late. His eyes never moved from where my friends stood in the backyard.

  With a cry Vadim fell to the ground. Shelley threw herself on top of his body, the heart-wrenching sound of grief filling the air. I turned to Brandon, a murderous magic heating my blood. I grabbed for his hand, but he dodged me. I swung at him, my fist grazing the bottom of his talisman. It flashed once, and then the black lines thickened, overtaking the purple stone.

  “It’s killing you,” I screamed. “Take it off!”

  He shoved me away, and with a groan the balcony shifted, the remaining support beams straining to hold our weight. Inch by inch it peeled from the wall.

  “Breeda, grab something!” Miro shouted.

  I backed up to Evie’s screen door and curled my hand around the handle, my other hand suspended over my wrist. I secured my feet on the single intact beam.

  The balcony gave way, pieces tumbling to the ground in an avalanche of wood. Brandon clawed at the railing still bolted to the side of the building, finding his grip only seconds before falling to the ground. I clutched the door handle as best I could, anticipating the worst. Unable to hold his weight any longer, the railing tore from its post, sending Brandon tumbling.

  I closed my eyes, but didn’t hear a crash. When I opened them, Brandon hung in the air like a puppet.

  Miro kept him aloft, a look of total concentration etched on his face. In the harsh glow of the security light, his skin had no color, but his eyes shone with the agony of an impossible choice. My heart clenched in my chest. Piotr. He’s thinking of Piotr.

  “Let him drop,” Shelley said, her voice empty of all emotion. “Let him die.”

  Miro clutched at his talisman. “I can’t do it.”

  “You can,” she pleaded. “Why should he live?”

  Brandon reached for his talisman. I panicked, but his neck was empty. The stone hung from a piece of the destroyed balcony between us, just outside his grasp, and mine.

  Miro scrunched his eyes shut, straining at the effort of keeping Brandon from falling. I felt useless—but then I realized I could help. I leaned my whole body forward, away from the building, trying to snag Brandon’s talisman with my outstretched fingers. Brandon glanced at me, a cruel smile playing at his lips, and stretched one long arm toward the dangling beam. With one quick burst of energy, he hooked the corded necklace.

  I swung my free hand up, prepared to use my talisman. He wasn’t going to take Miro. If anything, he would take
me instead.

  Brandon and I shared a look as we both released our magic. The live wires rose from the ground. Miro shouted my name, but the loud electrical hum drowned out his voice.

  The wires slithered around Brandon’s body, squeezing into his flesh. An otherworldly scream tore from his throat as the electricity jolted his body. He hit the earth with a sickening thud.

  “You’ve got two minutes to say good-bye,” Gavin said as he finished packing up the trunk of his car. He ruffled my hair. “I’m not being cruel, Breeda. It’s just sometimes, when something’s difficult, it makes sense to do it quickly.”

  Brandon and I turned to each other after his father walked away. The wind was fierce, whipping against our hair and clothes.

  “Will it be this windy at Seaside?” I asked. I didn’t really care. I just couldn’t talk about Brandon leaving me.

  Brandon hugged himself, rubbing his arms. “It’s the loneliest weather, isn’t it? We hunch up, protecting ourselves.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, and held him tight.

  I came back from the vision looking straight at the body of the boy I just held. Tears blurred my eyes and my hand slipped from the door handle, sending me into a free fall.

  I never hit the ground.

  Chapter 18

  Miro brought me gently through the air until I landed in his outstretched arms. I wanted to sink into him, to blind myself to the horror surrounding us. But that was cowardly, and my friends deserved better.

  “Shelley,” I whispered.

  He looked over at her, hunched over his lifeless friend. Miro’s chest heaved, as though any hope he’d been holding on to had disappeared in an instant.

  A choking sound tore both of us away from our anguish. Ion lay on the cement patio near the demon, his body convulsing, desperate for air. The sound was horrifyingly familiar. He was transitioning.

  “He’s pulsing,” Miro said, his voice urgent. “Go to Shelley and I’ll take care of him.”

  Shelley lay hunched over Vadim, chanting the spell of the dead. I went to her tentatively, knowing full well his death was my fault. “I’m so sorry,” I said, hating myself for how little it helped. “It should have been me.”

  “I used magic, too,” she cried. “Why aren’t I dead?”

  I knelt beside her. “Did he give you anything today?”

  For a moment confusion eclipsed the grief marking her features. She withdrew Evie’s key chain from her pocket. “Just this. He slipped it to me on the way here.”

  “It’s a protectant,” I said softly.

  “So it repelled Brandon’s magic,” Shelley said, tears running down her face. “Vadim saved my life.” Her hand went to Vadim’s white-blond hair. She smoothed it down and bent over to whisper something in his ear.

  I turned away to give them privacy. Miro had Ion’s head in his lap, coaching him to take in a thin stream of air. Had it only been days since he’d done the same for me?

  “Let’s get him inside,” Miro said. He glanced over at Shelley. She stiffened as if she’d felt his gaze. “I’m staying here with Vadim,” she said, her voice suddenly cold. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

  With Ion’s trembling body between us, Miro and I led him to the front entrance and up to Evie’s apartment. I settled him at the kitchen table and placed a glass of water to his lips, forcing him to drink. It wasn’t a tisane, but it was the best I could do.

  Footsteps sounded on the front stairs. I ran to the door, irrationally hoping Brandon’s and Gavin’s deaths meant my parents could return. I threw it open to find Evie and Seralina wearing identical expressions of barely suppressed rage.

  Seralina spoke first. “Where is my son?”

  I silently pointed her toward the kitchen. She took off down the hall without another word.

  Evie took me by the shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened? I was standing there dripping blood into a chalice when Dobra started shouting that you were gone. I called you from the apartment and Ion picked up. I got here as fast as I could.”

  “It was Brandon. He killed his father, and he took my parents. I think he would have killed them, too, but he needed them alive because he wasn’t sure my transition started.”

  Evie looked like she had a thousand questions, but when she spoke there was only one. “Where are they now?”

  “I don’t know,” I said tearfully. “I couldn’t get him to say, and now he’s dead.” When I finished, she wrapped her arms around my body and held me. I could tell she wasn’t used to close contact—my cheek awkwardly pressed against her heart, the only place not covered in metal. Exhaustion finally quelled the adrenaline racing through my system, and I collapsed fully against her, Evie’s strong arms holding me up.

  “I saw the demon out back. I’m sorry for that,” she said, her voice tight. “I should have killed it yesterday. It must have been half-crazed to break out of that closet.”

  “Brandon sent him,” I said. “The demon was after Brandon.”

  “So do you think Lupe and Ryan are still alive?” she asked, her voice daring to hope.

  “I think so,” I replied. “I can feel them.”

  “And Brandon didn’t say anything that might help us find them?”

  “No,” I said, forcing myself to step away from her. Failure, immense and insurmountable, crushed me. “They could be anywhere.”

  “It doesn’t mean we won’t find them,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

  I held up my wrist. “When I used magic I felt stronger and more in control than I’ve ever felt, but it means nothing if it can’t help me find my mom and dad.”

  Evie nodded solemnly. She took my hand in hers, turning the talisman. “Lupe had faith you could figure out where it was. Breeda, I—” She froze.

  I saw it, too. A thick, black line crossed the middle of the blue stone, breaking through the white star.

  Evie gasped. “Oh, no,” she said. “No, no, no.”

  My stomach sank with dread. The feeling worsened as Ion’s groans reached us, followed by a wail of pure agony. I pushed my sadness to the side and tore into the kitchen.

  Seralina and Ion were alone. She crouched beside him, murmuring soothing nonsense words. When she saw us, she rose, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “I assume both Brandon and Gavin are dead,” she said icily. “The hold must have broken. Ion’s transitioning full force. Your friend is here, is she not? The one who makes tisanes? She must make him one under my direction.”

  Ion whimpered. Purple bruises surrounded his eyes, the color nearly black against his chalky skin.

  Seralina’s viselike grip encased my wrist. She traced one crimson nail along the black line marring my talisman. “After today, you are not to see him ever again. You will not spread your darkness to him.”

  “Seralina,” Evie said. “Breeda’s not responsible for Ion.”

  Ion’s eyes blinked open. He clawed at the cord hanging around his neck, the one holding his ruby talisman.

  Seralina gasped as the stone cracked in half and a line of black oozed into the open space. “No!” she screamed. “No!” With a shriek she lunged at me. A second before I touched my talisman, Evie got between us, prying Seralina’s hands from my throat.

  Evie pushed Seralina against the counter. “Hysterics will not help him. We’re going to bring him into the bedroom, and do the best we can for him. Understand?” Seralina’s gaze still darted angrily in my direction, but she nodded.

  Evie let her go, and the two of them lifted Ion. “Get your friend up here,” Seralina snapped as they carried him into my parents’ bedroom. “Now.”

  Torn between wanting to help Ion and leaving Shelley alone with Vadim, I headed back to the yard. My hand absently brushed the bracelet that held my talisman. It was so easy now to inflict pain. One touch and a life could end. I hadn’t understood the power until I felt its push. Not only did I want to hurt Seralina—I would have if Evie hadn’t stepped in. The line between the right choice and wrong choice was
mine to cross. Survival would win out, just as Evie said.

  I walked in the yard to find Vadim’s body gone, and Miro standing at the back gate. Dobra sat in the driver’s seat of a beat-up black van. Shelley stared at me for a moment before climbing into the back. The window rolled down as I approached. “Haven’t you done enough?” Dobra called to me. “I have to take this boy for a proper burial. His talisman must be destroyed.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, before walking to the open back of the van. Vadim lay across Shelley’s lap, as though he were taking a nap. The sight cut directly into my heart. “What is it?” she asked, her voice lacking inflection.

  I decided to let the decision be hers. “Ion’s transitioning. Hard. He needs a tisane.”

  “She has no responsibility to you or any of your people,” Dobra said, turning the ignition.

  “Wait,” Shelley ordered. She gently placed Vadim’s head on floor of the van, and slid out. “I can’t help Vadim, but I can still help Ion.”

  Dobra’s eyes nearly popped from his skull. “Get back in this car,” he demanded.

  “I won’t have his death on my conscience.”

  The guilt Shelley’s words sparked made my knees weak. I had a death on my conscience now.

  Shelley walked past Miro and me without looking at either of us, and up to the apartment. Dobra drove away.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “So, so sorry. I keep saying it because I want you to believe it.”

  Miro’s silence was only bearable because he’d pulled me against him, tilting my face toward his. In that moment I realized what made his eyes unusual were not only their color, but the depth of pain within them. I felt it in myself now, and I could recognize it.

  “You saved me from making a choice,” he said, “and killed someone you cared about. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

  “But . . . Vadim.”

  “Brandon killed Vadim, not you.” He brought his head forward to meet mine. “I understand feeling guilty, but if you let it, guilt will eat you alive and pick its teeth with your bones. Promise me you won’t let that happen to you.”