They took her out of the room, leading her down a long dark corridor to what appeared to be a ceremonial room; it was a carbon copy of the Alliance’s ceremonial room in London.
They dragged her to the center of the room, and her limbs froze as they cast a Binding spell on her.
Seated before her at a long table with Isobel was a female vampire and a male witch, neither of whom she recognized. Zahara, her only potential ally, was nowhere to be seen. A dozen other Alliance members stood scattered around the room, their cold gazes trained on her.
Naomi’s eyes strayed to the far left side of the room; both horror and relief filled her at what she saw. Alaric stood there, chained to the wall, his face bloodied and bruised. Around him, Madalena, Elisabetta, Casimir, and Elias were also chained to the wall; all held still by Binding spells. Anguish filled Alaric’s blue eyes as they met hers. She could feel his love and his fear through their bond.
Her throat went dry; the room seemed like it was closing in on her. She willed herself to calm. She was the only one who could get them out of this.
“Eyes on us,” Isobel snapped.
Naomi’s focus returned to the leaders who sat before her. Isobel stood.
“This is Katarin and Noah,” Isobel said, gesturing to the vampire and witch seated at the table. “Local leaders of the Seattle branch of the Alliance. You have been accused of the murder of a fellow witch, Camille Colier, and Alliance leader Blaize Durand.”
Isobel was an excellent liar; she was the one who had killed Blaize, and possibly even Camille, but she looked genuinely disgusted as she looked at Naomi, as if she were indeed a murderer. It was no wonder she’d been able to fool the other Alliance leaders.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Naomi said, focusing her attention of Katarin and Noah, hoping she could reason with them. “I had no reason to kill either of them. But there is another Descendant out there, on the verge of unleashing a powerful Destruction spell, while we sit here—“
“You’ve been mentally unstable your entire life, Naomi. We’ve all read your file. Not long after your magic was unleashed, you performed powerful spells, spells that would zap the energy of most witches—and affect their mental states. And many heard what you said at your induction ceremony. It’s understandable that you’ve had a breakdown.”
Alarm twisted in Naomi’s stomach, undoing her attempt at calm. She’d wondered if the Alliance would ever use the tumult of her human years against her. Isobel had cleverly twisted it; she could see the condemnation in the other members’ expressions. Reason wouldn’t work with them. It was time for Plan B; her final plan.
“Your allies have already been sentenced to death,” Isobel continued, “for aiding and abetting you. Because of your special bloodline, your life may be spared, but only if we’re satisfied by your answers to our questions.”
Calm, Naomi, she told herself. Isobel wanted her to panic; it almost worked. She drew in a deep breath and expelled it. Keeping her gaze trained on Isobel, she silently issued a spell. Eserem.
The invisible binds that were holding her slipped away. Naomi remained still, and summoned Isobel’s strands of hair from her pockets into her palms. Herel iy manato.
“Will you answer our questions honestly?” asked Noah.
“Yes,” Naomi said, as she trained her gaze on Isobel’s dark eyes. Keeping her hands behind her back, she twirled the strands of Isobel’s hair between her fingers, silently issuing a combination spell. Mei ene si, yere it ore menal, minzatu Genevieve.
The current of Naomi’s magic flowed through her, reacting to the spell. Isobel suddenly froze, her eyes widening in surprise, as her mouth began to move of its own accord. When she spoke, her words came quickly, and at a high pitch, but everyone in the room could understand every word.
“Yes, Genevieve. I will kill your niece and her Blood Beast. I want to be at your side when you unleash the Destruction spell. The Alliance leaders in New York meet at the old Karener building at half past midnight. I will kill them all to make sure there is no interference. And I will help you begin a new world, one for the witches.”
Isobel stopped speaking and came back to herself, drawing in great gasps of air. But Naomi was now focused on everyone else in the room. Katarin and Noah got to their feet, looking at Isobel in horror. The other members gave her accusatory looks.
“She—she made me say those things!” Isobel cried, pointing a shaky finger at Naomi. “She’s a Descendant—they have special powers! She did something to me!”
“She couldn’t have known about the meeting at the Karener building in New York,” Noah snapped. “That’s something only a select few know.”
“She00she must have found out somehow!” Isobel shouted. “Don’t let her fool—“
Noah raised his hand, and Isobel went still. He’d cast a Binding spell on her.
“Isobel is your traitor,” Naomi said. She took a tentative step forward, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm. “There’s no time to waste. We have to stop Genevieve.”
Noah met her gaze for a beat, before turning to the two guards who stepped forward.
“Take Isobel into custody,” he said.
Isobel let out a cry of fury as the two witches grabbed her, glaring at Naomi across the room.
“You’re too late,” she snarled. “Genevieve is already unleashing the spell. Our new world begins tonight.”
Chapter 25
During the chaos that ensued after the guards dragged Isobel out of the room, Alaric’s gaze remained trained on Naomi, pride and relief coursing through him.
Ever since the Alliance surrounded them in the forest, he’d been terrified for her. Even as his two witch guards used painful spells to try and force him to turn on her, his worries had only been for her. It was her last-minute thinking that had saved her—that had saved them all.
Even as several guards rushed forward to release him and the others from their chains, his eyes never left her. Naomi met his eyes through the hubbub around her. He braced himself for some trace of remnant anger in her expression, but he only saw the relief that matched his own. As soon as he was freed, she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He pulled her close, never wanting to let her go.
It was only Zahara’s panicked voice that pulled them apart.
“There’s been an earthquake in New York. It was minor, most humans didn’t detect it,” she said, rushing into the room, trailed by two Alliance guards. “My contacts there are telling me it wasn’t a natural occurrence—it was caused by magic.”
Alarm rippled through the room; Alaric went rigid with panic, looking down at Naomi, who went pale. He’d hoped that Isobel’s scornful words to Naomi were a bluff, but it looked like she was telling the truth.
Alaric, Naomi and the rest of their group rushed towards Zahara as she approached the other leaders.
“Zahara, I must apologize for taking you into custody,” Noah said, looking ashamed. “Isobel had us all fooled. We—“
“Now isn’t the time,” Zahara said, waving away his apology. “It’s ultimately Naomi and her group we all owe an apology to. They’ve been trying to warn us.” She turned to give them a brief nod, before turning back to Noah. “Do you trust everyone in this room?”
“Yes,” he said. “Isobel brought two witches with her. They’re the guards who tortured you, something the Alliance forbids,” he added, turning to give Alaric’s bruises an angry and regretful look. “We’ve taken them into custody as well.”
“Then we’re going to need everyone you trust,” Alaric said, stepping forward. “We need them all to come with us to stop Genevieve.”
Fear like Alaric had never known flowed through him as he sat in the back of one of the Alliance’s cars with Naomi and the others, racing to the airport where they would take a private plane to New York.
He and Naomi barely had a chance to speak as they’d left the Alliance’s compound, but he could tell how tens
e and anxious she was by the rigid way she held her shoulders, her ashen skin, and her thundering heartbeat. He wanted to reassure her, to comfort her, but something made him hesitate. Or do you want to persuade her not to fight? an inner voice taunted him. As the only one in their group with powers on the same level as Genevieve, Naomi would be front and center during the confrontation. And that’s what frightened him the most—not the prospect of Genevieve succeeding, which was what should concern him.
But Naomi was more than the woman he loved; she was a witch, a Descendant, and she’d chosen to use her powers to help them. And he couldn’t deny every brave thing that Naomi had done since he’d met her. She’d saved both their lives before she even knew she was a witch when two Order witches attempted to abduct her in Athens. She’d survived torture at Raphael’s hands. She’d destroyed the Incantation Stone and killed Raphael. She’d saved both their lives, again, when Genevieve nearly killed them in Seward Park. And just now, she’d cleverly exposed Isobel’s true nature to the Alliance, right when they were on the verge of defeat. Countless times she’d displayed her capabilities, her strengths.
And what had he done, time and time again? Insisted that she not fight, that she let him fight her battles, out of his selfish—and proprietary—fear of losing her. Guilt skittered through him. See me, Naomi had pleaded. He’d insisted that he did; he had continually told her how powerful she was when she doubted herself. But had he really seen her capabilities? Or had he only seen a distorted view of her through the filter of his fear?
He slid a glance at Naomi, who clenched her hands in her lap, her focus trained straight ahead. Though they sat close together, she might as well have been miles away. The irony suddenly struck him; it was his fear of losing her that was pushing her away, not some outside enemy. And if he didn’t overcome his fear, he would lose her.
Didn’t he owe it to her to embrace who she really was? Not just the intelligent and brave woman he’d fallen in love with, but the powerful witch she’d become.
When they landed at the airport in New York, he stopped her before she could leave the plane, reaching for her hand. She turned to face him, and her expression broke his heart. It was tense, wary; she expected him to discourage her from fighting, to express his fear, to somehow tell her he didn’t believe in her. And could he blame her? He’d done so repeatedly in the past.
“I see you, Naomi,” he whispered. Her eyes widened, as he continued, “I’ll shadow you—but only until we get to Genevieve’s final location. And then you’ll face her on your own. I know you can defeat her.”
Chapter 26
Alaric’s words were like music to Naomi. Though fear lurked in his eyes, there was also undeniable faith. He was telling her he believed in her. It was what she needed, now that she was about to confront Genevieve.
She pulled him close, pressing her lips to his. Their kiss was brief, passionate, and intense, conveying everything they didn’t have time to say in words.
“Come on, lovebirds,” Elias said, stepping around them. “We’ve got ourselves an evil Descendant to kill.”
Naomi pulled back from Alaric, and he smiled.
“He’s right,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
Moments later, their car sped down the freeway. They had split up into groups, and were heading to Roosevelt Island, where Zahara’s trusted contacts determined was Genevieve’s current location. As Elisabetta raced down the freeway, Naomi noticed how crowded the streets were; the mini earthquake hadn’t dissuaded the humans from coming out to enjoy their night. She dimly realized it was Saturday night. Right now, humans were going to bars, parties, clubs and restaurants, unaware of the supernatural battle that was about to play out in their midst. It was hard to believe she’d been one of them, going about the monotony of her days when she had no idea who—what—she really was.
The ground lurched, and their car swerved, pulling her abruptly back to the present. Her heart began to thud in a frantic staccato rhythm, and Alaric’s hand tightened over hers. These mini quakes were just a prelude of what was to come. Genevieve’s spell was already working.
“Speed up, Elisabetta!” Madalena cried. Elisabetta, who was proving to be an expert driver, obeyed, pressing her foot down on the accelerator, whizzing past cars that had stopped during the mini quake. Naomi looked outside her window; panicked drivers were stepping out of their cars. If Genevieve’s spell continued, the blissful ignorance of humans would fade.
By the time they arrived in Roosevelt Island, Naomi’s adrenaline was at an all time high. Her magic was feeding off her rising energy; it rippled beneath her skin, as if trying to get out. Silentium, she murmured, to calm her magic. Soon.
“Everyone, listen!” Zahara shouted, as their group stepped out of the car. Seven other Alliance cars had also arrived at the stretch of lonely road on the island; fifty witches and vampires were now gathered around. It was as many as they’d been able to call on for backup on such short notice; Naomi hoped it would be enough. “Focus on Genevieve’s allies—she won’t be alone! Protect Naomi at all cost . . . she may be the only one who can destroy her.”
Naomi clenched her fists at her sides, taking a deep breath to calm herself as all eyes fell on her.
“You can do this.”
The voice was faint, for her ears only. She looked up at Alaric, who gave her a reassuring nod, his expression filled with the utmost faith. He took her hand, kissing it briefly, before they stepped forward to join Madalena and the others.
With a tug of wind, Madalena apparated them, and they arrived with the other groups at the ruins of a smallpox hospital. Naomi suspected that Genevieve had chosen this spot on purpose; the site of a plague that had once killed masses of humans while she unleashed another one.
They wasted no time, and Alaric’s hand remained over hers as they dashed towards the hospital with the others. Naomi could detect magic as they drew near, like faint notes of a song humming in the air. Genevieve. I’m coming for you.
Naomi and Alaric halted as a group of witches suddenly surrounded them; Naomi recognized some as the witches who attacked them at Elias’s farmhouse. The witches began to hurl offensive spells at their group; Naomi managed to dodge them while hurling a series of Repelling spells of her own. Alaric and the other vampires used their speed to attack, launching themselves at the witches with bared fangs.
More ripples of awareness prickled at Naomi’s skin, and she looked up. A faint glow emanated from the roof of the hospital; spells of an immense magnitude left visible streaks behind. Genevieve was up there.
Alaric raced to her side, a witch’s blood staining his fangs, as he followed her gaze.
“Genevieve,” Naomi said, and Alaric nodded.
“Let’s go,” Alaric said. “I’ll cover you.”
Naomi took his hand.
“Eilion,” she commanded, and they soared into the air. Two of Genevieve’s witches tried to follow them, soaring into the air alongside them, but Madalena and Zahara hurled spells at them, and they plummeted back to the ground.
Once Naomi and Alaric settled on the roof, Naomi froze. Genevieve was at the opposite end, hovering in mid air, her eyes closed and skin vibrating as her magic coursed through her, her mouth moving rapidly as she uttered the words of the Destruction spell. Naomi knew what it felt like, to be so consumed by magic you weren’t aware of your surroundings. She could use this to her advantage.
The ground lurched again; there was no time to waste. Naomi and Alaric started forward, but a dozen of Genevieve’s witches apparated in front of them, charging forward.
“Go,” Alaric said, “I’ll hold them off!”
Naomi hesitated; even Alaric couldn’t hold off that many witches on his own. She lifted her hand, casting a Shielding spell around him. It was temporary, but it could help.
“Go!” Alaric repeated.
Naomi turned and apparated to Genevieve just as the witches got to them, praying that the other Alliance members would get to the roof to help him wa
rd them off.
Genevieve’s eyes remained closed, consumed by her spell as Naomi approached.
“Cantair se yerel eshem!” Naomi shouted, and Genevieve plummeted to the ground.
Genevieve looked up, startled, as Naomi shouted a Binding spell. Genevieve evaded it, hurling a Killing spell towards her. Naomi darted out of the way, casting another Repelling spell.
Vibrating with fury, Genevieve began to hurl rapid-fire spells her way; Naomi dodged them all and created another shield around herself, the same magical barrier she’d placed around Alaric. Genevieve’s eyes narrowed, and she raised her hand to shatter the barrier, but Naomi darted around it and lifted her hand, on the verge of casting another Repelling spell.
But she wasn’t fast enough; one of Genevieve’s spells finally struck her. A Binding spell. She could feel it closing in on her, it was similar to the spell Genevieve had cast on her and Alaric back in Seward Park. The Binding spell held Naomi still, and she could feel her throat begin to compress, as Genevieve approached.
“It was foolish of you to try to stop me, niece,” Genevieve spat. “The Destruction spell has already begun to take hold. You could have been a part of this. You and your mother. Now, you’ll die as I create a new world.”
Keeping her focus on Naomi, Genevieve again soared into the air. Desperate, Naomi silently issued the counter spell she’d used in Seward Park. Geare isi.
But nothing happened. The air around her closed in; it was getting harder to breathe.
Genevieve’s skin began to glow, and her silver eyes looked electric as she again uttered the words of the Destruction spell.
“Freeil greadem lengi . . .”
The earth began to tremble. This time, it wasn’t a simple lurch or a jolt, and the trembling didn’t subside. It continued, turning into a full-fledged quake. The Binding spell held Naomi still as the building beneath her feet began to shake. She could hear the startled cries of the Alliance members. In the distance, she heard the frightened and panicked shouts of humans.
Marked Descendant (Descendants Book 2) Page 15
