by Donna Grant
Braith put his hand on the back of his head and winced as he felt the stickiness of drying blood. With a curse, he got to his knees and looked for his waterskin. Then he poured the liquid over the back of his head to wash out the wound and rinse the blood from his hair.
A glance outside the cave showed that dawn was fast approaching. Moments after that, he put out the embers of his fire and gathered his things. He saddled the stallion but chose not to get on his horse since he was scouting for a sign of where the warrior woman had gone.
The fact that it took him over an hour to find any trace of her told him that she went to great lengths to cover her tracks. But all it took was one slipup for him to find a trail.
His rejoicing was short-lived since he quickly lost her path again. He backtracked and tried different routes. Finally, he found a soft indentation, as if she had stood in one spot of thick leaves for a long time.
He knelt beside the depression and touched his fingers to it. Then he lifted his gaze and looked toward a thicket of foliage that looked as uninviting as an enemy’s camp.
Braith slowly stood. Though he couldn’t explain it, it appeared significantly darker within the forest. Yet, he knew the woman had gone in. Though she’d been hesitant. That in itself gave him pause.
What had she said to him?
“I’m killing Brigitta to save lives, and that means yours as well. I can’t have you walking into something you know nothing about. Forget her. Forget me. You might actually live if you do.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but he intended to find out. And in order to do that, he had to go into the darkness.
“Shite,” he mumbled.
He’d faced all kinds of foes, and not once had he faltered. Why was he now? Because this place looked a little imposing? Scary even?
Braith clenched his teeth and took a step. Only to be drawn up short by his horse rearing and trying to retreat. The next few moments were spent calming the animal down after moving the gray away.
Finally, the stallion quit trembling. Braith kept rubbing the steed as he tried to come up with how to proceed. It didn’t take him long to realize that the horse wasn’t going anywhere near the copse of dark trees.
He removed the saddle and bridle, hiding them in a bush. Then he gave the stallion one last pat. Hopefully, the animal would be near when he got back.
“It’s all right, lad. I’ll go it alone from here.”
Braith walked back to the spot the woman had stood in. He glanced over his shoulder to find the horse staring at him with his unblinking, black eyes. Once Braith turned back around, he decided it was now or never.
In three long strides, he was within the thicket. Mist he hadn’t noticed before covered the ground in a thick carpet. Just as he suspected, it was significantly darker within the place. But most alarming of all were the whispers he could hear.
His gaze scanned the surrounding trees, looking for someone, but he saw nothing. At least, not at first. After a few more steps, he saw something in his peripheral vision. When he jerked his head to the side, he saw a naked woman with skin and hair like bark lean away from a tree and hold out her arm to him.
Braith forced his gaze away, but the whispers increased. No longer was the movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw them everywhere. It looked as if they were part of the tree trunks, overlooked by their camouflage until they chose to move.
The trees themselves swayed, creaking loudly in the unnerving stillness, even though the leaves didn’t rustle with wind.
This was a place unlike any he’d seen. He would’ve given it a wide berth if he weren’t looking for the warrior woman. He needed to find and stop her because he planned to be the one to take down Brigitta. And he was prepared to halt anyone who tried to beat him to it.
The females from the trees never left their posts, but their curious black gazes were locked on him. He glanced at the ground, finding it disconcerting that he couldn’t see what he was stepping on because of the mist.
He briefly thought about turning around and retracing his steps, but then he recalled how the woman had said she was going after Brigitta. He fisted his hands and continued forward.
It felt like an eternity before he saw a clearing through the trees. But it was the glowing green light from within the mist, moving in a circle around Brigitta that made him pause.
“What the bloody hell,” he murmured.
Chapter 4
There was no preparation for finally finding the murderous bitch. The rage that consumed Braith was all-encompassing. Never before had he wanted to kill something as badly as he did at that moment—and his sights were set on Brigitta.
He glanced around, looking for the warrior woman who’d attacked him, but she was nowhere to be seen. Which was fine by him. He could get to Brigitta now and return for his horse before the other female knew anything.
The only thing that gave him pause was the mysterious...beings...he’d walked through to get here. He didn’t know what they were or if they meant him harm. But that was something he’d deal with on the way out.
He slowly unsheathed his sword. The way Brigitta knelt in the middle of the clearing with her eyes skyward was odd, but the green light in the mist was more so.
Then again, it was just mist.
At least, he hoped it was.
One of the reasons he had survived so many years of battle was because he wasn’t rash or reckless. He studied and contemplated. But now, he was throwing away everything that had kept him alive, driven by the cold bite of vengeance.
He kept to the trees and slowly made his way to the left to get behind Brigitta. The ground was more uneven, causing him to walk at a more sedate pace to keep from tripping. He hated not seeing the ground.
After catching himself when his ankle began to roll, Braith waved his hand at the mist to clear a spot so he could see the ground. As soon as his gaze landed on the skull and other bones, his mouth fell open in shock.
What was this place? He had seen all kinds of graveyards, but this wasn’t one. This area felt...wrong. Foul, malevolent. Wicked.
The quicker he got out of there, the better.
He set his gaze on Brigitta once more and squared his shoulders. Then he walked into the clearing.
“Unbelievable,” Leoma murmured when she saw the knight step into the clearing.
At least the imbecile had enough sense to come up from behind Brigitta. Not that it would do him much good. He had all but sealed his fate by following her into the Witch’s Grove.
While Leoma didn’t want to see him die, she had warned him. It wasn’t her fault that he chose not to listen. His arrival—and the imminent attack he planned—might give her time to sneak up on Brigitta and kill her before the witch even knew Leoma was there.
Leoma’s gaze returned to the knight. His gaze scanned the area warily. Perhaps he wasn’t as stupid as she thought. But he had walked into the Grove during the day, which meant he had seen the Gira.
She shifted, her knee slamming into a bone.
She wondered if he noticed what littered the ground. The first time she had come upon a Witch’s Grove and saw the floor of the forest after the mist moved, she had tripped over herself trying to get away.
And then she got sick. Twice.
The bones that lay at her feet and over the rest of the Grove were victims of the witches’ spells. Or other witches who refused to join the Coven and then were subsequently used for a spell.
The coiling of the mist suddenly stopped. The green light grew so bright that Leoma had to raise her hand to shield her eyes. When that wasn’t enough, she turned her head away until it dimmed.
When the flare faded, she found two other witches holding a bound woman between them. They pushed the female to her knees, her long, dark red hair falling over her shoulders.
Brigitta lowered her arms and smiled as she looked at the arrivals. Then she rose to her feet and glared down at the woman, the mist slinking away.
“
Join us or die, Helena,” Brigitta said.
Leoma gasped as she realized what she was seeing.
Helena lifted her head defiantly. “I’ll never join the Coven.”
“Then you die,” Brigitta announced.
One of the other witches looked up then and noticed the knight.
The appearance of the three women seemingly out of thin air caused Braith to halt. He could only stare in shock and wonder at what was before him.
His instincts told him to help the bound woman, but something held him back—a shout of worry in his mind that cautioned him to remain where he was.
The exchange between Brigitta and Helena only made him frown. Who or what the bloody hell was the Coven? And why did Brigitta want the woman to join them?
His thoughts came to a halt when one of the new arrivals noticed him. Her eyes widened, and her expression hardened as she said something in a dialect he didn’t understand. The next instant, all four of the women were looking at him.
“Braith,” Brigitta said, a smile curving her lips. “I knew you would find me, earl.”
He tightened his grip on his sword that hung at his side. “If you wanted me dead, you should’ve killed me when you murdered Josef.”
Brigitta laughed, the sound both seductive and evil. “Of course, I could have, my lord. But you’re needed for something else.”
“Whatever you have planned, forget it. Now, release the woman.”
The two females behind Brigitta smiled as if in anticipation. Helena eyed each of them, seeming to size up the situation to see if she could escape.
Braith was going to give her that and more. He couldn’t believe these women, without a single weapon between them, thought to stand against him. They would be slaughtered.
And he would enjoy sinking his sword into Brigitta’s body.
The metal hummed with the anticipatory song of blood—Brigitta’s. Many enemies had died upon his blade, but there was never one more deserving than the black-haired female before him.
“You callously took Josef’s life,” Braith stated. “Without thought or care. I opened my home to you, and you took advantage of my hospitality by murdering my ward.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You can continue your rant, but it will not change what has been done.” Brigitta took a step toward him. “The fact is, you know the ultimate blame is yours. You welcomed me into your home. You’re the one who foolishly believed that a woman would not dare harm a man.”
The fury inside him was becoming harder to control, more so because her words were true. He had looked at her and thought that she could do no harm. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
“I almost wish you had remained at your keep,” Brigitta said. “But I knew you would find me. It was planned all along.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You.”
“I’m no one.”
Brigitta cackled and spread her arms wide. “Oh, how little you know. But you’re about to find out, my lord.”
He lifted his sword, the tip pointing to the sky as he held it before him. No longer would he listen to nonsense. “Release the woman. Either way, you’re going to die this day.”
“It’s a pity I cannot kill you,” Brigitta said with a sigh. “However, another fate awaits you.”
Before he could comprehend her words, he saw smoke curl up from the hand that held his sword. Almost immediately, his skin began to burn. The longer he held onto his weapon, the more his palm sizzled.
“The more you resist, the more it will hurt,” Brigitta stated.
He couldn’t believe that she was the one doing this, but there was no other explanation. He gripped his wrist in a bid to keep hold of the hilt.
The two women behind Brigitta moved to stand on either side of her. While they might be fair of face, there was an evil air about them that no beauty could conceal.
Suddenly, from his left, a figure stood from behind a fallen tree. He immediately recognized the warrior female from the previous night.
She reached up and unclasped her cloak. Then, she stepped on the tree and unsheathed her sword while flipping forward and landing deftly on her feet before tossing a knife to Helena.
Braith gazed in wonder at the leather-clad woman standing so defiantly behind Brigitta and her companions. The warrior woman hadn’t said a word or issued a sound, but her appearance shifted the tide.
Her gaze met his. In her soulful brown eyes, he saw an unwavering determination. With a bow of his head, he silently agreed to work with her.
There was the slightest stirring of the air as she lifted the blade of her sword upward. One of Brigitta’s companions turned and saw her. An instant later, the warrior plunged her sword into the female.
Just as Braith was about to look away, he saw that the soon-to-be dead woman began to burn from the inside out. It was the sound of the woman’s screams that caught Brigitta’s attention.
The heat from Braith’s sword lessened. As soon as Brigitta looked elsewhere, he tossed his weapon into his left hand. A glance at his wounded palm showed blistered skin, red and puckered.
As Brigitta and her friend faced off against the now freed Helena and the warrior, he was forgotten. There was a pause as the four women stared at each other. The warrior was calm, her stance ready.
The flame-haired Helena had anger flashing in her green eyes. “The Coven has gone too far,” she said.
Brigitta spread her fingers at her sides. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” Brigitta’s head shifted to the warrior. “Who are you?”
“Vengeance.”
That made Braith smile. He might not appreciate the warrior’s attack on him, but he acknowledged her courage.
The air crackled with tension. Ignoring the pain of his hand, he took two steps closer to Brigitta. He noticed the mist creeping back into the clearing.
“You’re in the wrong place, Vengeance,” Brigitta said. “But I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
Helena’s smile grew. “Oh, you stupid woman. You think I killed your friend?” She shook her head before looking at the warrior.
Braith was confused. Why wouldn’t Brigitta think the warrior killed her companion? There was an element he was missing, one that seemed to be right before him that he couldn’t grasp.
“Hunter,” Brigitta said in a low, strangled voice.
The thread of fear he heard brought him immeasurable joy.
The warrior grinned. “You and every other witch in the Coven will pay for your crimes. We’ll begin with penance for the beheading of my friend.”
In unison, Helena lifted her hands, palms out, while the warrior gripped her sword with both hands and brought the weapon up to her shoulder. Not one to let an opportunity pass, Braith saw that Brigitta’s concentration wasn’t on him, so he used the opportunity to sneak up behind her and plunge his sword into her spine.
It wasn’t how he wanted to kill her. He’d wanted her to suffer first, but it was enough that her life would end.
To his shock, she didn’t so much as cry out. Her head lowered as she watched the tip of his sword exit her chest. His mind reeled when she walked forward until she was free of his blade.
She whirled around so fast that he was unprepared. Blood covered her blue gown, but it didn’t faze her. She curled her fingers and lashed out at his face.
Braith shifted, raising his shoulder to block her blow. Her nails, sharp as any blade, slashed through his leather jerkin and tunic to sink into his skin before sliding downward.
Chapter 5
Leoma lunged toward Brigitta as Helena went after the other witch. Braith’s face was contorted with pain, but he had enough wherewithal to swing his sword back toward Brigitta. While it wouldn’t kill her, every wound he delivered inflicted pain. And that was exactly what Leoma wanted.
He fought like a man possessed, like someone who needed revenge for what had been done to his ward.
When Leoma heard his words about what Brigitta h
ad done, she understood why he was so intent on tracking the witch. She recognized it as the same motivation that drove her.
Brigitta moved just before Leoma’s sword made contact. Leoma spun, using her momentum to deliver another blow, but Brigitta was waiting. The force of the magic that slammed into Leoma’s chest knocked the wind from her as it propelled her back.
Leoma struggled for breath. She lifted her head to see Braith swaying on his feet, his body under attack by the magic that was unleashed through Brigitta’s nails and delivered straight into his bloodstream.
A gasp tore through Leoma as air filled her lungs. She rolled onto her side, happy to know that she’d kept hold of her sword. She pushed herself to her hands and knees. Using a tree for help, she got to her feet in time to see Helena press her palms together before shoving her hands outward.
Coils of purple-tinted lightning flew from Helena’s palms and straight into the witch who screamed as soon as they wrapped around her. The tendrils sank into the witch’s skin, leaving black marks.
Everyone watched as the witch began to convulse before falling to the ground and bursting into flame.
Leoma pushed away from the tree and started toward her target the same time Helena turned her gaze to Brigitta. The witch glanced at Braith, trying to decide if she had enough time to get to him before Leoma and Helena reached her.
“Until next time,” Brigitta said and waved her hands before her.
In a blink, she was gone.
Leoma turned to Helena, but the witch didn’t wait around. She ran off through the Grove. Leoma almost went after Helena, but she couldn’t leave the knight. If he didn’t get treatment, he would die.
Or worse, Brigitta would return for him.
“Damn,” Leoma murmured and sheathed her sword.
She retrieved her cloak and dagger then hurried to Braith, who had fallen to his knees, only staying upright because he’d anchored his sword tip in the ground to help hold him up. Sweat covered him, rivulets running down his face. Between the injuries to his right hand and his left shoulder, he must be in tremendous pain.
