by Lola Taylor
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She really wouldn’t, either. She hadn’t missed a single meeting since she’d joined this past January. She’d tried online forums and stopping by local coven meetings, but most of the people she’d come across online were just humans screwing around or crackpots. As for the covens she’d visited, some were fine and others weren’t. Like the one where they all practiced magic while naked. No way was she letting a bunch of strangers see her goods.
She had about given up on finding a place to fit in when a coworker referred her to the spellbook club. Finally, here were people who loved magic and loved talking about it and sharing new spells. It was different from the covens she’d visited. The club felt more academic, something her inner nerd craved. There, she didn’t feel like an outcast.
Verika bid her friend goodbye and headed back up to the de-spelling rooms with a sigh.
She thought about what Emilia had said, about how thankful she should be that a “real” witch was helping her.
If there was one thing Verika had learned, it was that no matter where you went or what you did, you were always going to run into an asshole. Emilia was one of those elitist witches who thought just because a dabbler like Verika hadn’t found an affinity for a certain type of magic yet, it somehow made her scum.
So what if none of the elements had ever chosen her? Her knacks so far had been in more practical magic, such as breaking spells, tracking spells, finding the loopholes other people couldn’t see… It was something she’d prided herself on. She’d turned her “disability” into her greatest asset, and by doing so, had become nearly indispensable to this department. Verika knew the peers who teased her were just jealous because she outranked them. Most people respected her, though. She had to work twice as hard to compensate for her lack of a magical categorization.
The different affinities—Blue Magic, Red Magic, Green Magic, and so on—felt a lot like cliques. She swore this place was just like high school, sometimes.
Verika braced herself as she rounded the corner. Not only would her worst enemy be in there, but she’d have to deal with Mr. Sexy again. Or more likely, her body’s reaction to Mr. Sexy.
She sighed as she gripped the doorknob. Here goes.
She twisted.
It was locked. And the window shades had been drawn.
Verika’s eyes narrowed. That bitch would try to lock her out.
Having a feeling she already knew what would happen, Verika tried swiping her badge and punching in her authorization key on the panel beside the door.
Nothing happened. It must be bewitched.
Too bad that wasn’t going to work, no matter what type of spell Emilia had cast upon the security panel.
Closing her eyes, Verika held her hand up over the panel. Heat started to build below her palm as she chanted, searching for the loophole that would allow her to rip this spell apart.
The lights hummed and then began to flicker, but she ignored it. The electricity had been really weird all over the city lately. It seemed anywhere she went, lights were acting up.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she searched the spell. She could see it in the darkness of her mind, a rainbow of multi-colored threads.
Almost… there…
Her eyes spotted the hole and she reached out with her own magic and pulled.
Her ears popped as pressure swelled in the air, and sparks sizzled beneath her palm. She gritted her teeth and jerked back her hand. Some spells didn’t like to be broken, and they bit back.
Feeling cranky, she grabbed the knob without hesitation and opened the door.
“You know, Emilia, I look past a lot of your bullshit, but I’m getting really sick and tired of…”
Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her, and her eyes widened.
“What the hell is going on?”
That was exactly what Elijah would like to know.
When Emilia had sauntered in, alone, a few minutes ago, he thought he was done for. Mistress Black would surely want him dead. He knew too much.
So, when Emilia raked a fingernail down his face and said, “She wants you back, precious,” he had almost wished she had wanted him dead instead. After all, he’d bet anything the reason she wanted him back was to kill him herself.
Death at the hands of Emilia was surely better than what he was about to face.
“What do you mean, ‘She wants me back’?” Elijah had demanded, despite the horror uttering those words produced.
“It means just that,” Emilia had said, along with a few words that ensured the door wouldn’t open. “She has big plans for you.”
“What kind of plans?”
Emilia had smiled, and it had made his blood run cold. “All kinds of plans. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want to see. I don’t want to go anywhere near her again, or any of you witches, for that matter.”
“Yet, your tail seemed to wag for Ms. Tate.”
Damn. Was he that transparent? “You’re delusional,” he’d said.
“I’m a lot of things, sweet pea, but delusional isn’t one of them.” She’d gone over to the cabinet and grabbed a piece of chalk. With a wave of her hand, she’d barked a word in Latin and the next thing he knew, he couldn’t move. She’d begun drawing a circle on the floor around his chair while he’d struggled to break free, all the while feeling his heart rate shoot up, up, up.
Emilia had started to chant as she walked. The hum of a spell had buzzed along Elijah’s skin, making it prickle. The circle had begun to glow neon green.
“What are you doing?”
Emilia didn’t speak again until the spell was complete. “Sending you back.” She’d raised both arms, her whispered chanting growing more frenzied as her eyes became totally black.
He’d struggled in vain but couldn’t move. He couldn’t go back to that castle of horrors, couldn’t face the terrible beauty of that madwoman again.
“Stop it,” he’d breathed, but his voice was swept away in the rising gale in the room. The lights had begun to flicker. The spell had pressed against his skin, making him feel like everything was being sucked toward his torso. He’d wondered if this is what it would feel like to be sucked into a black hole.
He’d gritted his teeth, resisting the increasingly painful pull of the spell, when the door burst open and there stood his angel. Her hair looked like fire as the wind picked it up.
“You know, Emilia, I look past a lot of your bullshit, but I’m getting really sick and tired of…”
Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her, and her eyes widened.
“What the hell is going on?”
Emilia whirled, fixing those black eyes on Verika. Verika startled as she took in her coworker. “Black Magic? But you’re not a Black Witch.”
“This power’s on loan,” Emilia hissed, then slashed at the air. The door slammed shut, sealing Verika inside with them. All the while, the circle still burned brightly around Elijah and the pressure increased. God, it hurt like a mother, like his insides were being siphoned out.
Verika held up her hands, circling the table so it was between her and Emilia. “Whatever you’ve done, you can undo it.”
“Too late now. She’ll kill me if she finds out I had him within my grasp and let him escape.”
“Who will kill you?”
“Who do you think?” she said, lifting her arm and jerking back her shirt sleeve. The tattoo symbolizing she was a member of the Order sparkled dark red in the light, and Verika’s eyes widened.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “You’re one of them.” She glanced at Elijah in disbelief, as if she couldn’t believe he had been right. She stared at Emilia. “You know where she is. You’ve known the whole time, and you haven’t said a damned word.”
“If you’d met her, you wouldn’t either,” Emilia said, along with a shiver that looked strangely like fear. Elijah could relate. Mistress Black scared the shit out of him, too.
“E
milia, let me help you,” Verika pleaded.
Emilia laughed. “You can’t help me. You’re just a dabbler. What the hell can you possibly expect to do against someone with her power?”
Verika winced, her hurt feelings showing through briefly before pure anger took over. “I’m stronger than you think.” Grabbing one of the vials she’d left off the table, she uncorked it and threw it at Elijah’s feet. It burst right on the circle, causing steam to shoot up. The circle sizzled and flared before the chalk shattered like glass, leaving glowing neon green shards all over the floor.
The unbearable constriction Elijah had felt against his lungs eased, and he sucked in a huge breath, coughing.
“Bitch!” Emilia spat. “I’m sick of you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!” Raising both arms with a cry, she shoved them outward. The table surged backward, aiming to pin Verika against the wall, but she leapt out of the way. She landed on the floor as the table banged against the wall.
Elijah instantly snarled and tried to stand, but the binding spell was still in effect. Damn! He hated feeling helpless, hated not being able to do anything as the world fell apart around him.
He remembered a dreary night when he’d watched in terror as his family was turned into werewolves. He’d felt the same sense of helplessness then as he did now, as he’d watched their blood color the ground. Their screams and pleas for help still haunted his dreams.
And now, this innocent woman was most likely going to die right in front of him, all while he sat around and watched.
Furious with life continuously kicking him in the teeth, he began snarling and thrashing, trying to break free. He would not give up, not while he could still make a difference.
Verika scrambled to her feet, but Emilia seized her foot and threw her, with impossible strength. Verika crashed into the shelves of supplies, falling flat on her back and covering her head as potions, glass, and all sorts of other manner of supplies rained down on her.
“I’m so sick of hearing your name lauded among our colleagues,” Emilia said as she slowly approached. “Do you have any idea how infuriating it is having someone with no clear affinity outrank you? Do you know how hard it’s been smiling when someone praises you, or even just looking at you?”
Verika chuckled, the sound raspy. “If you’re looking for me to apologize for your inability to control your jealousy, then sorry to disappoint you. By the way, I hope you got health insurance when you signed on.” Dipping her hand into a nearby open box of what appeared to be pink sand, she quickly muttered a phrase in Gaelic and blew the dust at Emilia.
It took on a life of its own, shooting straight for her face. She coughed and sputtered, then began to sway. “What did… you…?”
She hit the floor, unconscious, before she could even finish the question.
“Oh, my God,” Verika breathed, clapping both hands around her mouth in horror. “I just stunned my coworker. Holy mother of—”
“Hey!” Elijah barked. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but can you fall apart later? We need to get the hell out of here.”
“We?”
He gave her an exasperated look.
Standing on shaky legs, Verika walked over to him and stared.
He waited. “Well?”
“But you’ll escape if I set you free. Or kill me and then escape.”
He snorted. “I won’t harm you, I promise. But I am planning on escaping.” He studied her. She was quick on her feet and obviously had some tricks up her sleeves. She could come in handy as an ally.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ll admit you just want her around so you can undress her with your eyes some more.
“You should come with me,” he said.
Her breath caught. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
“Because I’m the bad guy?” He gave Emilia a pointed look.
Verika swallowed hard and shifted her weight. “It’s just, my whole world has turned upside down in a few seconds. I have no idea what to think right now.”
“Do you think I would hurt you?”
She stared back without blinking. “No.”
“Do you think I would intentionally place you in harm’s way?”
She bit her lip.
He sighed. “Look, I don’t mean to force you into all this, but hell, you’re already in the middle of it, anyway. If you’re half as devoted to justice as you seem to be, then why not free me and let me help you take down the Order?”
Verika didn’t reply.
“I can’t stay here,” he said simply. “Clearly, the Order has infiltrated your ranks, and you can take however long you like to come to grips with that. But either way, once they find me, there’s no telling what they’ll do to me. Now, will you please help me?”
Verika glanced at the door with indecision. “I’ve never broken the rules,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “I’ve never once stepped out of line. I’ve always been so careful. How come this is happening to me?”
“Maybe because it was meant to.” He let the weight of those words sink in. He wasn’t sure if he believed in fate or not, but there was something eerie about their meeting. Almost as if it was meant to be.
Verika turned her gaze back on Elijah. She muttered a few words and he could move his limbs again.
“Thank you,” he said, standing quickly and looking around. He pointed to the camera mounted on the wall. “Emilia said she spelled that to make it look like she was just de-spelling me. I think it’s only supposed to last a few minutes. It’s a mirage.”
Verika’s brows rose. “You know about mirages?”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re not a warlock.”
“You learn a lot of random shit when you’re held prisoner by a coven of malicious witches.”
Verika ran her hands through her hair and began pacing. “Okay, so we need to think this through.” Her voice shook, like she was trying to keep from falling apart. Her eyes fell on Emilia. “Oh, God, what have I done? I’ll get fired for sure. Everyone knows we don’t like each other, and she’ll probably try to make it look like I just—”
Elijah took her by the arms and forced her to face him. “Just relax,” he said, staring her in the eyes. “She’s still breathing. She was going to attack you and you defended yourself. You have done nothing wrong.”
“You’re right.” Verika shook her head and took a deep, calming breath. She let it out slowly. “Thanks. Sorry, lost my cool there. This isn’t how I normally behave.”
He somehow doubted that. Fantastic. So his witch was a control freak. Put one thing out of order in her life, and she just comes unglued.
There was no telling how she was going to act when random shit happened, but she’d handled this situation rather spectacularly, and she was sort of his only option.
They needed to act now, before they were discovered.
“Can you get us out of here?”
“I… I think so,” she murmured, looking around and seeming distracted. Her brows furrowed in thought. She began rummaging through the remnants of the potions on the floor. “Where is it, where is it…” she muttered to herself. “Aha!” She at last held up a glittering vial of what looked like bottled light.
“What the hell is that?” Elijah said, growing tense as she approached with it.
“Our ticket out of here,” she said. Color heated her cheeks. “But first, I need you to hold on to me,” she mumbled, not looking at him.
He quirked a brow, resisting the urge to grin. “As you wish.” He stepped closer without hesitation and rested his hands on her waist.
“Um… you might want to hold on tighter.” Her voice got smaller as she spoke, and the color burned more vibrantly in her cheeks.
No complaints from him. He circled his arms around her waist, enjoying the plushness of her curves. She was soft. He bet her creamy, bare skin was even softer.
She let out a startled gasp as
he yanked her to him. “Like this?” he murmured in a husky voice, gazing down into her eyes.
She gulped. “Yeah,” she whispered. “That should do.”
Those beautiful green eyes stared up into his for a moment, searching. “What’s your name? Your real name?”
He shouldn’t have told her. It would have made things so much simpler between them in the long run.
But no, his recklessness kicked in, and he blurted out his name before he could think straight.
“My name is Elijah Johnson.”
“Johnson?” Verika sputtered. She could feel the heat draining from her face. She didn’t need a mirror to tell her she was going white as a ghost. That name sent a crack racing through her still mending heart.
He stared at her, confused. “Is something wrong with that name? It’s pretty common.”
She wetted her lips and thought about what she wanted to say. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Do you by, um, any chance have an, er, brother? Or two?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Her heart began to race. Her tongue felt heavy as she asked this next question. “Are their names Nik and Gage, by any chance?”
Now, the color drained from his face. “How did you know?”
Holy hell. She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the coming headache. Nothing good could come from trying to answer him right now, not when her head was still spinning with the revelation of exactly who he was.“Oh, gee, I know because I kind of had a thing going with your brother, and you kind of remind me of him, especially the ‘I-want-to-jump-your-bones’ part.” Yeah, she could so see that conversation derailing quickly. So instead, she opted for, “It’s a long story. Which we don’t have time for right now,” she added pointedly.
Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask…
He gave her a suspicious look that said he wasn’t done asking questions, and that was okay. “So, about that escape spell…”
“Oh. Right.” She held up the vial of Lunimora and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the magical jolt. This spell was a bitch. She’d only cast it once, while in training at the DPI Academy, and it had knocked her out cold. Her magical prowess had come a long way since, and she prayed she could stay conscious long enough to actually get them to safety.
