by Patti Larsen
I didn’t like the sound of that. “If you’ve hurt any witches—”
He laughed at me then, good mood returned. “Hurt? Harmed? You’re a fool, Sydlynn Hayle. You win more wars with sugar to lure your bait than attacking with fire.”
“You’re still recruiting witches?” My mind skipped, shuddered, started running a mile a minute until I dragged it back under control. But yes, of course, it made total sense…
Belaisle’s eyes gleamed, his posture relaxing. “I’m sorry to say, you now know too much. Well, you did before now, but any further guessing will only take you closer to answers I can’t afford you to have. Which means, my dear, as much as it pains me,” yeah, I could see it really pained him, “you’re going to have to meet with an unfortunate accident.”
It was almost funny. I guess he had no idea about my little immortality issue. Made me feel a little better on one hand, but very, very anxious on the other.
I had to talk to Mom and find out who was working with the Brotherhood.
Idiots.
“You realize my coven knows exactly where I am,” I said. Bluffing? Not sure. Gram might have had enough to go on. “Do your worst and see where it gets you.”
He nodded slowly. “Ah, yes. Well. If you’re not fearful of losing your own life, there are always other means of keeping you quiet. After all, not everyone in your family has access to the power you do.”
He did not just threaten the people I cared about.
Did not.
“Your mother is in a precarious situation.” Belaisle toyed with the giant ring on his hand. “And your grandmother, with all that unprotected traipsing around the countryside she does. She really should be more careful.” Red fury bloomed inside me, burned a hole in my chest, made my whole body sizzle and vibrate. “And your little sister. Meira, isn’t it?” Something cracked around me for a moment, the shell casing of power holding me confined shattering for a single moment as molten rage drove knives of hate into my heart. “Our files tell us she has many young friends in the witch world. Some of them we know quite well.”
My demon howled in the distance, the touch of her welcome. I reached for her, felt the touch of her power and welcomed the tint of amber fire over my vision as she rose to greet me.
Belaisle shrieked suddenly, a little girl sound of fright, face bone white as he dropped his posturing and slid sideways, scrambling behind his desk, one hand pointing at me, shaking.
“Bruno! Emil!” The door behind me slammed open as Belaisle cowered.
She fought to stay with me as more emptiness smothered me, forcing us apart, the feeling of her cut off despite my absolute need. I was left panting, bent in half, still staring at the Brotherhood leader with absolute fury, ready to tear him apart with my bare hands and eat his bloody heart.
Laughing all the while.
He regained his composure almost immediately, but I knew then he was a coward, held it to me like a gift, grinned at him with all my teeth bared and my contempt tearing a window open into my soul.
“Take her somewhere quiet and kill her.” He turned his back on me, a slight tremor in his voice. “I don’t care how, but make it look like an accident.”
The two bullies approached, though I could feel their matching fear. When they tried to grab my arms, I yanked free and took a further step. Belaisle spun back to me, fear flickering in his eyes.
“I’ll see you soon,” I said, blowing him a kiss. “For dinner.”
He blanched as I turned and strode out, the two sorcerers piling on more weight until I stumbled from it, unable to continue my forward momentum without them carrying me.
Kill me, huh? We’d just see about that.
***
Chapter Thirty Two
My imminent death should have given me more concern than it did. If only I could die. These schmucks were obviously totally unaware. Turned out Belaisle’s files weren’t quite as accurate as he thought they were.
Creep.
The pair guided me toward the back of the house, near where we’d entered in the first place. I needed to figure out a way to break free of their magic, only able to use wishful thinking they might slip up and take me outside.
Even they weren’t that stupid. Or arrogant. Or any combination of the two.
Was still worth hoping though.
Instead, they led me into the large, stainless-steel kitchen and toward what had to be the basement door.
“How you want to run this?” Bruno, had to be. The big lug-like sorcerer goon’s voice made me shiver, my head still so heavy my eyes were forced to observe the floor under me as they half-carried me along between them.
Emil, his long and lanky partner, shrugged, the feeling of his action running up my arm he clutched too tightly. “Drowning?”
Bruno must have been pondering, because he didn’t say anything until his hand reached for the door handle. “I hate the drowning ones. All that gurgling.” A goon with a delicate stomach? “How about fire?”
Flinch. Memories of being burned at the stake ran through my body in an electric current of denial, limbs jerking in response.
Emil chuckled, a nasty sound full of bile. “Fitting, yeah? She’s a witch, right?”
Bruno didn’t answer, just laughed along with his brother idiot, the door almost hitting me in the face as he pulled it open. Blackness stared back, a row of wooden stairs under my sagging head, my feet making thudding sounds on the risers as they dragged me down into the cool damp of the basement.
Now, Ahbi told me I was immortal. Dad, too. Sassafras. And I had no reason to doubt them. But as Bruno and Emil placed me in a wooden chair at the back of the basement, a small, filthy window letting in the only light, the scent of gasoline strong in my nose as a can was brought forward, the cap twisted off, I had my doubts.
I might have been immortal, but would I heal? Or survive the burning with scars for the rest of my very, very long life? Images of Uncle Frank’s half-melted face, the result of being left in the sun, churned terror in my guts, irrational fear taking over as panic tried to drive my limbs to move.
Something scuffed near me, a polished shoe, a pant-leg clad in a designer suit. A stream of liquid poured out around me, forming a puddle on the concrete as the sorcerer circled me, creating a ring of combustible fluid before lifting the canister to waist height.
“Time to fry,” Emil said.
Panic set in. Mind-warping, heart-attack-inducing, agony-filled panic that drove every single coherent thought from my brain as the metallic clink of a lighter being flipped open took up my entire Universe with one soft snick.
This could not be happening again.
Grunt. Thud. Scuffle. Another grunt, this one ending in a sigh. Emil half-turned, the can of gas falling to the floor to gurgle out its contents as he lunged out of my line of sight. The pressure on me decreased enough I could raise my head, peer into the darkness.
Bruno lay crumpled against one wall, blood oozing from his nose and the side of his mouth. Two figures fought in the black, just out of sight, enough I knew someone was on my side. I fought the remainder of the sorcery holding me down, felt the edges tear as Emil crumpled and fell, toppling backward into the puddle of gas.
I found my feet, able to move again, grasping the wooden chair for support, ready to use it as a weapon. Two pinpoints of amber fire stared at me from the shadows as Demetrius oozed out of the darkness and smiled at me, white teeth flashing in the dimness.
“Saved you,” he said. “Fix me?”
***
Chapter Thirty Three
The temptation to just leave, run, get the hell out of there was so powerful I was shocked at my own lack of courage. Mind you, I’d been through a lot, thanks, what with having no contact with my magic and almost being burned alive and all. But it wasn’t like me to cut and run.
Time to slice myself off a little piece of slack. I drew one deep breath after another while Demetrius forced chunks of stone into the sorcerer’s mouths, the rock seeping o
utward like Charlotte’s gag, more of the concrete slices forming bonds at ankle and wrist. I could hear him whispering, muttering to himself, while the two men groaned before falling totally silent.
“Would kill them,” Demetrius said softly to me as he turned and smiled the expression of a happy child, “but Belaisle will do much worse.”
I was all for that.
“Need to go.” He grabbed my hand, started to tug on me, leading me to the stairs. “Out, out, out.”
Our hustle to the kitchen helped me burn off my panic, shook me loose of the fear I’d almost succumbed to. Enough that when he tried to steer me toward the door I resisted, pulled back, though my heart longed for the fading day outside.
“The others,” I whispered. “We have to take them with us.”
Demetrius grumbled. “Out,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “With the others.”
He was going to fight me on this, I could tell by the way his face scrunched up, his eyes spitting flames of amber.
“Fix you,” I said. “When we save the others.”
That got me what I wanted. Demetrius snarled at me, but bobbed a nod and darted for the interior door.
He was going to get us caught.
I really needed to practice what I preached and learn to be more trusting. He was a sorcerer after all, no matter the health of his twisted mind. Once again he led me, cautiously but quickly, through the mansion until we were winding our way up the spiral stairs to the second floor. The house was oddly quiet and I could only imagine Belaisle had his people out and about, doing their dirty duty, undermining the fabric of magic use on our plane.
My imagination was running away with me.
I didn’t even recognize the door, but Demetrius had no problems choosing the correct one. He unsealed it with a touch and, within moments, we were back inside my prison, Owen gaping at us while Charlotte’s wolf eyes faded to human. I gaped at them, trying to understand why Owen was sitting on her where she lay, almost to the door, gouges cut out of the carpet under the heels of her boots.
“She went after you,” Owen said with what sounded like apology in his voice. “I tried to stop her, but she’s really strong.”
I crouched next to her, holding out my hand to Owen. “The crystal.” He dropped it in my palm before I spun on Demetrius. “You want me to fix you?” I thrust the stone at him. “Fix this first.”
He turned sideways, away from me, eyes darting all over the room. “I made it,” he said, “for you.”
“You made sure I couldn’t use it,” I snapped back, so far down the end of my rope I’d be strangling him with the remains any second now. “Undo whatever you did or our deal is off.”
Demetrius lunged for it, took it in his hand, eyes full of sorrow. “Needed to be sure,” he said. “Needed to be fixed first.” He squeezed it in his fist, the blue light dancing between his fingers before he handed it back to me with so much anguish in his face I knew he’d done as I asked. The moment the crystal touched my skin he buried his face in his hands and sobbed.
Didn’t matter. I wasn’t paying him any attention. Not while my demon suddenly howled to life, Shaylee screeching at the top of her lungs, the vampire essence surging outward and into the crystal.
Whole. I was whole. What are you doing? I reached for the magic my vampire core was giving up, but she buffeted me aside.
What is necessary, she sent. You used to trust me. Don’t let that faith waver now.
Trust again. I felt along the edges of her, how she wasn’t reduced, not in the least, by what she’d done.
But the crystal now pulsed with life, the magic of the maji, humming happily in my hand with dog-like adoration.
I reached for Charlotte and her bonds, pressing the crystal to her gag, tried to sever the magic holding her captive. But no matter what I told the crystal heart thudding away in my hand, it didn’t understand. It tried, even cried gemstone tears inside its shell, a tiny soul wanting to do what I asked.
I just didn’t know what to tell it.
“Owen.” I pressed the stone into his hand, gritting my teeth against the inevitable loss letting go of the crystal meant for me. “You try. I’m getting nowhere.”
Horrible, horrible emptiness. My hand spasmed as I released the crystal, the blankness returning. And now I had an extra burden. It felt as though I’d let another life leave me. Like I needed even more identities but no, this was different. My vampire created another vampire, a life, one I was now responsible for.
Lovely.
Owen seemed tense, unhappy, but he moved to do as I asked. His eyes flew wide as the crystal pulsed in his hand. “Incredible,” he said. “All this power.” His gaze met mine. “You scare me sometimes, Syd, you know that?”
I didn’t get to respond. Demetrius hissed at us, turning to grab my arm.
Owen looked up in shock as the door began to unseal. He had just enough time to shove the crystal into his pocket—no, I needed it!—and push me toward the crazy man before the last of the seal died away. Demetrius shoved me under the bed as I heard the door handle snick.
“You’re next.” A new voice. I couldn’t see anything.
“I’m coming.” Owen.
“Leave my brother alone.” Trill was back. Good to know. I wanted to risk a peek, go after Owen for the crystal and access to my power, but Charlotte was still bound and I needed her fully operational if I was going to take on the sorcerers.
I heard Trill grunt and the door bang shut, the hiss of magic as it sealed up again. Demetrius squirmed his way free, me pushing him out of the way, to find Trill staring at the door with clenched fists at her sides.
“Free her.” I pointed at Charlotte, dragging Demetrius forward, hands shaking in shock at the loss of my power again. “Owen has the crystal so you’re all I’ve got.”
He bobbed his head and went to work while Trill turned to face me.
“You’re all right.” Her voice was dull, washed out. “He said he killed you.”
“I had help.” I pointed at Demetrius. Owen might not have been able to break the hold on the metal gag and bonds, but the wily old sorcerer didn’t seem to have the same problem. I watched in sick fascination as Charlotte’s gag began to dissolve, retreating, falling away as powder from all three points until my bodywere was on her hands and knees, coughing up the last of the goop as it rained down in flakes the moment it touched air.
“We don’t have much time.” I knew Belaisle would soon start to wonder where Bruno and Emil were.
“He wouldn’t let me talk to Nona.” Trill wrung her hands together, tone still dead and lost. “I begged him but he laughed at me.”
There wasn’t much I could say.
“What if she’s dead?” A wail crept into the girl’s voice. “Because of me? And now we’re in their custody because I let them manipulate me over her and she’s already dead?”
I reached for her, but not just out of sympathy. She had to pull it together if we were going to escape. But it wasn’t my touch that calmed her down.
Charlotte hacked up the last of the gag and fixed the girl with a glare, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she crouched, eyes flashing to wolf and back again. “What if they never had her in the first place?”
Trill froze and, to be honest, I did too.
Oh, hell no.
“I don’t smell the woman you speak of,” my bodywere said, climbing to her feet, flexing her hands as if they pained her. Which I imagined they did, considering how tight her bonds were. “Her scent clung to you when you first arrived, fading with time. But that smell, it’s nowhere in this house.”
“I heard Nona’s voice.” Trill’s eyes pleaded with Charlotte behind her glasses.
“Voices can be faked,” I said as gently as I could.
“No one of your bloodline has been near this house,” Charlotte growled with absolute certainty. “Your grandmother was never here.”
***
Chapter Thirty Four
&
nbsp; I caught Trill before she could crumple, tears pouring down her face.
“This is all my fault,” she said.
I wasn’t about to argue with her, but I kept my mouth shut considering the timing.
Demetrius was at the door, unsealing it, amber eyes fixed on me. “Come,” he said. “Time to fix me.”
No argument from me. Except we were still shy one of our number.
“I can’t just leave Owen.” Trill tried to pull away from me, ending up in Charlotte’s reach.
From the expression on her face, the weregirl didn’t care a scrap what Trill wanted and I couldn’t bring myself to blame her. Charlotte had just endured a very bad day and the wolf in her seemed ready to act on her own whether we were part of her exit or not.
“We’re leaving.” Charlotte’s hand clamped down on Trill’s arm. “Now.”
The girl dug in, tears turning to fury. “I need to know Nona’s not here,” she snapped. “You could be lying so we’ll leave. Your loyalty isn’t exactly a big secret or anything.”
Oh boy. Charlotte’s normally calm demeanor snapped in half, a dried up and dusty wall her wolf was tired of hiding behind. Her alter persona emerged, face lengthening into a snout, eyes huge and full of cold rage.
“I said,” she growled in a voice that echoed with the howl of a wild animal, harsh with an accent, “we’re leaving.” She snuffled the girl whose anger faded to fear at the sight of the werewolf begging for release. “And I swear to you, maji child, if you betray us again, your light will be extinguished once and for all, without your brother’s help.”
Trill squeaked a protest, but that’s all she managed as Charlotte dragged her to the door and snarled at Demetrius.
“Lead the way,” she rumbled, face returning to human. “But the same warning stands, old man. I’ll kill you without a moment’s thought.”
