by J. L. Weil
Everything happened faster than I expected. Either I was getting better at this, or my power was growing. Regardless, it didn’t sit well in my stomach. The moment I released her, Amara fell to the ground just outside the circle. I had to wonder if any of the girls knew what they were about to do, or if they’d all been under Amara’s incantation. The others glanced back and forth to each other, eyes shifting over the room, clarity beginning to break through the cloudy haze.
Except Amara. She looked like she was going to chop me up into bits and feed me to a pack of dogs. That was usually the response I got when sucking the magic from a witch. I’d expected nothing short of rage. “You bitch!” she screamed.
Gavin came flying down the stairs just as Amara lunged herself at me. “Bri!” he cried in part relief, part worry.
I didn’t have time to respond, because I was sailing through the air with Amara’s hands on my throat.
Oh, for the love of God…
Chapter 11
She didn’t have any magic, whereas I was supercharged. I waited until my back hit the ground, the impact jarring my head, but I managed to keep it from smacking the ground, and then I threw my hands out.
Sparks fluttered.
Amara was suspended in the air, arms and legs spread out. She was glaring down above me, practically spitting in my face with anger. “You’re the devil!” she screamed.
I angled my head. “Not quite. I’m a clàr silte. I warned you.”
“Adam,” she whispered, her eyes darting to the spot where her boyfriend had been. He was nothing but charred ash. The moment I’d taken her magic, all her spells dismantled.
Gavin reached me, murmuring my name.
I sat up, wincing. My body had been hammered to the ground one too many times in a single day. His hands tenderly cupped my cheeks, sliding across my skin in the most delicious way. Moving slowly, his eyes savored my face before he pressed his lips to mine. “Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured.
“I don’t plan on it,”
“What does a guy have to do to keep you safe?”
I shrugged, a barely-there smile on my lips. “Lock me in a tower?” I jokingly suggested.
But by the look in his dark blue eyes, he appeared to be contemplating the ridiculous notion.
“Never going to happen,” I said, before he took the idea a step past only thinking. “What did she do to you?” I asked, softly running my fingers over his cheek.
His eyes glittered like diamonds as he recalled the events in the cemetery. I knew that look. He wanted to make someone pay for hurting me, but had no one on whom to unleash his anger. “Amara used a spell to knock us out.”
Dark magic could often be stronger than pure magic. Unless you were like me…a bit of both. “And you still managed to find me.” I took a moment to appreciate that we were both alive, and how good it felt to be in his arms.
“Nothing would stop me finding you. Not the dead. Not a spell.”
It was good to have someone who never gave up, who loved me as much as he did, who would fight until the end of time alongside me. I wanted to keep it that way. “I was so worried that she’d—”
He pressed a finger to my lip silencing me. “Don’t even think it. I’m fine. We’re fine.”
I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my face against his. “She wanted to channel my power to bring back someone she lost.”
“What are you going to do about her?” His eyes moved upward.
Good question. I couldn’t leave her dangling in the air, however tempting. I pulled back, glancing at Amara, still floating in the air. But first, we needed to take care of her sorority sisters. They all had that WTF look on their faces. “You handle them, while I take care of her?”
We couldn’t just let them go, not after what they knew about me. I wasn’t a killer, so there was only one option left. We needed to wipe their memories. The deal was, though, that there was always the chance the other witches could find a way to recover the lost memories, but Amara, being only human now, would have to find another witch to regain hers. Of course, she would also have to remember a witch had taken them.
It was imperative that my identity stayed hidden, for my safety and others.
The moment he stood up and turned around, the silent room erupted into squeals and shrills as the circle broke and scrambled. Gavin cut them off at the bottom of the stairs, blocking their only escape. “Not so fast, ladies.” And before anyone twitched their finger, Gavin fabricated the spell to extract memories. The swirl of green and blue mist interwove among the other girls. All it took was a whiff, and time lapsed to the exact moment before the coven had joined the circle.
They might be fuzzy and disoriented for the day, but there would no long term affects. I couldn’t say the same for myself. Already, mere minutes after taking Amara’s magic, I sensed the darkness she wielded, flowing through my veins.
I would be a fool not o feel some apprehension. And a fool I was not.
Understanding quickly dawned in Amara’s eyes when I angled my head to look up at her. “This won’t hurt; I promise,” I mocked.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed.
I should have thought about sealing her mouth closed.
Her green eyes went wild as I fed the spell into the air, watching it gather around her pretty face. “You should have listened to me, but I guess like the saying goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
For Amara, I had a special spell. It was more than memory wiping. I was also implanting a new ending. Once I had her enthralled, all remembrance of me taking her powers gone, I carefully set her on her feet and stared in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Amara, but something went terribly wrong. The spell didn’t work. Adam is gone. Forever. Do you understand?”
Big, fat tears welled in her eyes. “Gone,” she sobbed. She shook her head in disbelief.
“Gone. He’s in a better place now,” I told her. “The spell did something to your magic. You’re no longer a witch.”
“What?” she gasped, her voice thick with emotion.
I know I was piling on a lot of heavy stuff, but there was no other way. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a strong person. You have the sorority to lean on.”
She nodded, sniffing. “I do.”
“They’re waiting for you upstairs,” I said, softening my tone.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Good question. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I after I thought on it, I realized it was simple. “Because I know what it’s like to lose someone. I know what it’s like to miss someone so much, you’d give anything to see them again. I know what it’s like to feel alone.”
She gave one last glance at the center of the circle, her eyes running over the chair I’d be confined to, and the place where Adam had been. Without an argument, Amara walked numbly to the stairs. In a sad way, she reminded me of the dead she raised—lost and empty.
Strong arms circled me from behind. “Think you can walk out of here, or do you need me to carry you?”
I leaned back, relaxing for the first time in what felt like weeks. Turning in his arms, I pressed my face into his chest. “I’m fine.”
“Do you feel good enough for this?” he rasped, leaning down and brushing his lips across mine. The most amazing scent drifted from him. Crisp and fresh, like a walk in the woods on an autumn morning. But most of all, he smelled familiar.
I nipped the ring at his bottom lip. “As soon as you get me out of here. This place has gone far past giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
He chuckled softly.
I knew college wouldn’t be easy, but deadly hadn’t crossed my mind.
The door jingled as I walked into Madame Cora’s shop. It seemed like a lifetime ago, the last time I’d been here with Tori and Austin. I felt a sense of déjà vu. Then I hadn’t known what I was or what I was capable of. It was a different experience walking into the mystical shop now. I recognized the ripple of magic. I sensed the importance
of the items she sold, from crystals to books—each had a purpose.
As did I.
Already, I could feel the darkmist of Amara’s magic spreading on my soul. There was only one way to cure the scar left behind from taking the magic from a witch, especially a witch who practiced dark magic.
Moondust.
The End
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About the Author
Award-winning and best-selling author J. L. Weil writes Teen & New Adult Paranormal Romances about spunky, smart-mouthed girls who always wind up in dire situations. For every sassy girl, there is an equally mouthwatering, overprotective guy. Of course there is lots of kissing. And stuff.
Most of her books are for ages 16+. They usually have what she considers the good stuff: sexual content (oh yeah) and swearing. You have been warned. ;)
An admitted addict to Love Pink clothes, raspberry mochas from Starbucks (yum!), and Jensen Ackles (double yum!), she loves gushing about books and Supernatural with her readers.
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