Spellbound

by Kelley Armstrong

  The first time, I'd been captured with my mother. They'd come for her and I'd been home playing sick, so she'd had to protect me, which meant she couldn't get away. She'd died without ever getting away.

  The second time I'd been captured by my father. He'd been fighting Paige for custody and unable to tell his side of the story, so he took me. Then Leah convinced me he'd murdered Paige, and in a blind tantrum of spell-powered rage, I'd killed him.

  Two kidnappings. Two deaths.

  Who would die this time?

  No one. I couldn't get anyone else hurt here. I was alone.

  But for how long? The familiar bulge of a cell phone in my rear pocket was gone. Had they disabled it before Adam could get coordinates?

  What if Adam came? What if he got killed--?

  A door behind me squeaked open. Light flooded in. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder and instead took stock of my surroundings to see what I could use in a fight. Not a damned thing, unless I could play lion tamer with my chair.

  "Savannah?"

  My hackles rose at that voice.

  Roni walked in front of me, circling wide as if I might lunge and bite her. Tempting.

  "I'm sorry it had to be this way."

  I spat. Sadly, I missed.

  "It's your own fault," she said, her mouth going rigid. "All you had to do was come and help me when I asked. That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it? Help people? The others said it wouldn't work, because you aren't like Paige and Lucas. I insisted on trying. That's ironic, isn't it? A witch-hunter championing the goodness of a witch? But you proved me wrong." Disappointment leached into her voice. "They aren't very happy with me now, especially after you killed Maddie and now it looks like Tyler might die, too. Your werewolf friend hurt him pretty bad."

  Tyler must have been the man who went after Elena. I remembered what Roni had said before I passed out, about my "half-demon and werewolf" friends coming after me. So Elena was fine. Like Adam said she'd be.

  I relaxed. "That's what Tyler gets for taking on a werewolf. And if Maddie was the woman in the parking garage, I didn't kill her. She swallowed poison."

  "Because of you. So as far as they're concerned, you killed her."

  "That wasn't your aunt, was it?"

  "No, just a group member who kind of looked like me."

  It took a moment for me to process what that meant. Roni's family had never been chasing her. She'd pretended they were, with the help of these people. A setup to convince me that she was in trouble.

  "So no one from your family was involved in this. They knew nothing about it. You're the witch-hunter and you killed your cousin because she tried to stop you."

  "I had nothing to do with Amy's death. She had her own problems."

  A lie. I was sure of it. Had Amy found out Roni was mixed up in something? Had Amy threatened to tell their family. Did Roni kill her? Or did these people, when Roni told them? It didn't matter. Not now.

  "So your aunt was right--they stopped hunting witches and you didn't. You went rogue."

  A smug smile. "I went more rogue than they could ever imagine. I'm not a witch-hunter anymore. I'm a witch."

  I laughed. She didn't like that.

  "If they're promising to make you a witch, you slept through part of your witch-hunter training," I said. "We're born, not made."

  "That's what you think. They're making me one by injecting me with witches' blood."

  I sighed. "If it was that easy, don't you think every freaking supernatural would do it? Add spellcasting to his repertoire? Hell, why not just take the rest, too, while you're at it--some half-demon blood, sorcerer, shaman, necromancer . . . The only supernatural power that can be transferred is a werewolf's, through saliva. Your chances of surviving that are one in a hundred. And, no offense, Roni, but you aren't strong enough to be in that one percent."

  "You think I'm not becoming a witch? Then explain this."

  She took a piece of chalk from her pocket, drew a symbol on the floor, and laid a leathery scrap on it. She lit the scrap on fire, recited an incantation, and a tiny fireball, no bigger than a firefly, exploded above it.

  When I laughed, her face darkened. "I'm just starting. It will take lots of practice and months of blood therapy, but someday I'll be a real witch."

  "Um, no. You won't. Do you remember when you came to my hospital room, and I knocked you flat on your ass? No chalk symbols. No bits of dried flesh. No matches. Hell, I wasn't even awake. What you've done here is a parlor trick. Friends of mine found a cult of humans doing magic like that a few years ago."

  "They were the first," Roni said. "Our methods have much improved since then."

  While Jeremy and Karl had eliminated the cult that Jaime uncovered, a few had escaped. Was that Roni's group? Were they the ones who'd found a way to free Leah? Sure, there could be two entirely separate groups hell-bent on getting me, but that sounded a little too close to a teenage girl's popularity fantasy for my tastes. Especially considering Roni had been in Columbus before Leah lured me there. They wanted me because I was both witch and sorcerer, with a little demon tossed in, meaning if they really believed blood would--

  Oh, shit.

  "Remember how I said poison knocked out my spells? I lied. I have a virus. A really nasty virus. One of those, um, hemorrhagic fevers."

  Her nose scrunched up. "Huh?"

  "Never mind. Just . . . Okay, I get it, you want supernatural powers. Who doesn't? I know I'd love to have mine--I mean, I love mine. When I'm not sick, that is, which is really just temporary. But if you want power, real power, I know people--"

  The door squeaked open again. "Veronica?" a woman's voice said. "I thought you were just checking to see if she's awake."

  "She is."

  "So I see," the woman said dryly. "You may leave now, Veronica. I believe it's time for your blood therapy."

  The woman came to stand in front of me. A man followed. He was in his midthirties, with sleek dark brown hair, lazy dark eyes, and a close-trimmed beard. He wore a brilliant blue button-down shirt, slacks, and loafers, all designer brands. His teeth shone. His hair shone. Even his fingernails shone. The woman beside him did not shine. At least two decades older, she was plump, with faded blue eyes and coarse gray hair cut to her shoulders. She wore a brown dress that did neither her figure nor her coloring any favors.

  The peacock and the wren, I thought.

  "Giles," the man said, making an odd little bow in my direction.

  When his gaze swept over me, that lazy look vanished. The peacock vanished, too, and I saw a hawk instead, surveying potential prey. The change of expression lasted only a moment before he fixed on a mild smile, stepped away, and motioned for the woman to take over.

  "Althea," the woman said.

  She paused, eyeing me as if waiting for a reaction. Was I supposed to know her? I didn't, and when that was clear, she nodded, seeming satisfied rather than disappointed.

  "Are you hungry, Savannah?" she asked. "Thirsty?"

  When I said nothing, she pressed, her broad face gathering in concern until Giles sighed and said, "Prisoner politics, my dear. She won't ask for anything, be it water or answers."

  "I'm fine," I said. "I'll get something on the plane. I think I've missed my flight, but there was another one this evening. Mind if I rebook? I was really kind of in a hurry to get someplace."

  "Miami," Giles said. "Yes, we know. I'm afraid tonight won't be possible. Would tomorrow suffice?"

  "Well, okay. I was hoping for tonight, but tomorrow will do. Can you get me an upgrade? I prefer business class, but the bosses always send me coach."

  "He isn't joking, Savannah," Althea said. "You really can be on a flight tomorrow."

  "Just give you what you want, right? Spill my guts. Tell you everything you need to know. Or is it my blood you want to spill? If so, we'll make a deal. You get some from your usual source, and we'll tell Roni it's mine. Not like you're actually giving her witches' blood. The point is just to make her th
ink she's getting it, which might actually make her a better spellcaster. The mind is a powerful thing."

  Giles laughed. "Don't worry, Savannah, we have no interest in your blood. We don't want your answers either. You've already given enough of those."

  I stiffened before I could stop myself.

  "Oh, don't worry, it was quite unwitting. You've told us what we needed to know, though. Now all we want is . . ." He smiled. "Your friendship."

  With that, he turned and walked out, Althea following.

  What the hell had I told them? Nothing, I was sure of it. Mind games. Even if they used some kind of truth serum, I needed to be awake for that, and I'd been knocked out since they'd grabbed me.

  Speaking of mind games, they'd left me in darkness. Really not the road to friendship.

  A while later the door opened again. Minutes, hours, I didn't know. The light flicked on and a single set of hesitant footsteps crossed the room. Roni. I winced.

  She put a chair in front of me, then settled in for a visit.

  For a minute, we only looked at each other. Then she said, "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

  If I'd had my spells, I'd have zapped her with an energy bolt for that one. Maybe even accidentally launched a lethal one.

  "They aren't going to hurt you," she said. "You're too important. As soon as you know everything, you'll understand why I did it. Then everything will be okay."

  And we'll be bestest friends forever, Savannah. I just know it.

  I'd met girls like Roni in school. They thought I was cool. The rebellious, misunderstood outsider. I must need friends. So they'd applied for the job.

  Problem was, I already had friends. Not close ones--not in school anyway--but I didn't want more, and even if I did, I wouldn't want them. Those girls didn't think I'd be fun to hang out with. They just wanted to siphon off some of my cool factor . . . and have a guard dog who'd attack every stuck-up bitch who'd ever made them cry.

  Roni looked at me and saw everything she wanted to be. Tough, yes. Confident, definitely. But most of all, what Roni wanted to be was a supernatural. She wanted power, and I had it in spades. Or so she thought.

  My instinct was to treat her the same way I'd treated those girls in high school. Slap her down fast and hard, before the rejection hurt too much. Only in this case, that would be a really, really stupid thing to do.

  "So," I said. "Giles and Althea--"

  "Oh, aren't they amazing? Althea has taught me so much, and she's been so nice. And Giles. When they tell you who he is, you're going to flip."

  "Who he is?"

  "Who he really is." Her eyes glittered. "And how old he really is. I can't talk about that, so don't ask me, but it will make all the difference. It did with me." She inhaled. "It's beyond anything you could imagine."

  Oh, I had a good imagination. I suspected Giles and Althea did too, spinning tales of glory for their acolytes.

  "What I don't get is why they need me," I said. "Giles said I already gave them the information they wanted, though I can't remember saying . . ." I trailed off and faked a look of dawning realization. "Did you tell them I said something? If you lied to them--"

  "I wouldn't do that. You did tell me something." A shimmer of cunning lit her eyes. "You just didn't know it. Not that it was your fault, and don't worry, nobody's going to get hurt. They just wanted to know where--"

  She stopped.

  Wanted to know where what? I racked my brain to remember all the conversations we'd had. She'd never taken an interest in anything--

  No, she had taken an interest. In one person.

  I remembered her fan-girl moment when she'd overheard me mention Hope. Asking me if she was in Miami. If she could meet her.

  Roni was a member of some unknown supernatural sect that wanted to know the whereabouts of Lucifer's daughter. And we were investigating a group that wanted to summon Lucifer.

  Oh, shit.

  "This group," I said. "They're--"

  The door squeaked open and Althea's quiet voice cut through the room.

  "I think that's enough, Veronica."

  Roni leapt to her feet. "I was just--"

  "Keeping Savannah company. I appreciate that. Right now, though, there are folks waiting to meet her."

  Two people followed Althea in. A guy and a girl, not much older than me. Both brown haired. Both average height. There was nothing to make them stand out--not a scar, not a tattoo, not a piercing. Even their clothing was standard college wear. But I'd seen them before. Starring in the video shot at Walter Alston's estate.

  "This is Severin," Althea said. "And his twin sister, Sierra."

  My gorge rose, remembering what they'd done to Alston. I looked away.

  Sierra laughed. "You didn't tell us she was shy."

  She slid forward and brushed her fingers across my cheek. I snapped and managed to catch the tip of one in my teeth before she yanked back with a gasp.

  Severin laughed. "Not so shy after all, sis. That'll teach you to keep your hands where they belong."

  "Oh, I'll teach her where my hands belong. No witch brat--"

  "Enough," Althea said. "Your job is to escort her to the meeting hall. Now untie her."

  eighteen

  I knew better than to fight back--I'd only establish myself as a difficult prisoner needing more guards. Instead, just look and learn. Take note of the players. Study their personalities and weaknesses.

  As I was being led from my room, my job was to pay attention. Learn the layout. Form an escape route. A worthy plan, one that would have been a lot easier to put into motion had I not been blindfolded the whole fucking time.

  Still, I paid attention. How far did we walk? How many turns did we make? What did the floor feel like under my sneakers? Was it concrete? Wood? Carpet? What did I smell? What did I hear?

  There was a dampness to the air I associated with basements. Underground then? The hard floor--likely concrete--suggested I was right. That made it tough. When I'd been held captive before, it'd been underground, and I remembered the hellish time Elena had getting out. It had been so difficult that she'd had to return for me later, with Paige and the others.

  I shoved down the flare of panic. This wasn't the same situation. There were no "cells" here. Probably no other captives. Just me. Special. As always.

  When they took off the blindfold, I was in a room with ten people, including Roni, Althea, Giles, and the Torture Twins. I filed away the names of the newcomers, storing them until they did something to prove they might be dangerous or useful. For now, they were five more bodies to get past on my way to the exit.

  Ten people in the group. That wasn't bad. Other than Althea and Giles, they were all young--twenties and early thirties. The idealism of youth. Seemed to have skipped me, but I blame that on growing up with Paige and Lucas, whose idealism shines like the noonday sun. I'd learned to start pulling the shades before I went blind.

  "Okay, look," I said when they'd finished introductions. "I'd say I'm pleased to meet all of you, but you know that's bullshit. I'm your prisoner. I don't know where I am. I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want from me."

  "So now you're ready to start asking questions?" Althea said.

  "If you think holding me in a room for a day or two will make me break down and tell you everything, don't bother. If you've done your research, you'll know I've been kidnapped before. I spent weeks in a cell. I'm not going to snap and betray my friends for warm blankets and a feather pillow."

  "Guess we'll have to do this another way then." Sierra smiled. "Shall I get my tools, Giles?"

  Roni flinched. I was pretty sure Althea did, too. The others shifted, uncomfortable. Giles only gave her a look of stern disapproval.

  "There will be none of that," he said. "Savannah is angry, and rightfully so. I can assure her, though, that we weren't deliberately withholding answers. We were simply waiting until everyone was here to participate in this meeting."

  "So, can we get to it now?"

>   He smiled. "Yes, I won't keep you waiting any longer. Right this way, please."

  He walked to a door and held it open. Inside it was dark. I stopped, ready to dig in my heels, then he pulled back a curtain, and I saw light beyond.

  Roni hurried ahead to hold back the curtain for me. Giles had already disappeared. The others were behind me. Sierra jostled past, her brother following. The others circled wider, passing, until it was only Althea, Roni, and me.

  I glanced back. I could take them. Even without spells, I was sure I could. It was the other eight people, only a few yards away, that posed a problem.

  I continued into the meeting room. Ahead, Giles was blathering on in his outdoor voice, and it bounced off the walls, so loudly I couldn't make out the words until I walked through the curtain. We were stopped there, in an alcove, the rest of the group hidden from view as Giles paced the front of the room and talked.

  "We have promised you many things," he was saying. "And while we continue to work together to bring our dreams to fruition, I have now delivered on one of my promises."

  He turned and motioned me forward. I stepped past the end of the curtain, and a gasp went up. Then a cheer.

  "May I present a young lady who needs no introduction. Miss Savannah Levine."

  I turned and looked out, and found myself on a stage overlooking an auditorium. An auditorium filled with people, all looking up at me and cheering.

  Oh, shit.

  At first, all I could hear was the cheering, and when that stopped, the thundering of my own blood filled my ears. I stared out at the sea of faces. I tried to count them. My brain stuttered and I had to start over, and finally gave up and counted rows, estimating instead.

  Close to two hundred people filled that room. Two hundred supernaturals, aligned to expose the supernatural world--

  No, maybe I was wrong. I'd guessed these were the people behind the uprising, but my only proof was Sierra and Severin. No way could there be this many supernaturals already aligned in a plan that everyone with a brain knew was madness. It'd be a damned suicide cult.

  Giles was still emoting as he paced the stage. "--long have supernaturals waited for this day. We have waited patiently because we knew it would come. The signs would appear. The signs foretold in the Phalegian Prophecy."

  Phalegian Prophecy? I searched for a memory of such a thing. Sure, supernaturals had prophecies, like any other group. Predictions of the future written by some nut-job, then warped and stretched to fit a current situation. Proof the world was going to end.