“What are you doing? She’s my friend and she might need my help,” Bibbi said as she was being hauled off.
“And that’s what he’s doing, so we need to stay out of it,” Oscar said as they disappeared.
I was on my own. No one was going to walk in and back me up, help me get out of here.
Now what? I could get back to my room, pack my bags, and leave for good. It wasn’t like I didn’t have other things to do with my life. I didn’t need this place or these people. They all wanted me to be miserable.
I changed directions, and Hawk planted himself in front of me again.
“You’re in my way.” I used the haughtiest tone I could muster, learned mostly from the eighties chick flicks where some popular girl bullied a downtrodden newbie from the wrong side of the tracks. It was definitely not a role I was used to, but I might as well stick to the eighties trend I had going on.
“Give me the token.” His hand was out, palm up, waiting.
Talk about a sore winner. Couldn’t he leave well enough alone? As far as he knew, he’d won this battle. He had to rub it in as well? It was like he was reading off the same bad movie script I was.
“In case you haven’t realized it, I’m not going anywhere, so step out of the way.” I gave him my best glare. My glares didn’t budge anyone back in Salem, but that seemed like ages ago, when I was afraid of my shadow and content working in a little shop. That girl didn’t exist anymore.
He moved close enough that I had to crane my head back to hold his gaze. “Do you think I’m idiot enough to not know you’ll be back here in ten minutes?”
“I wasn’t coming back in ten minutes.” Stupid man. How dumb did he think I was? I was going to wait at least an hour.
“Hand it over.” His words were clipped, the hard edges of him all on glorious display. This was the man that people crossed the street for. I would’ve too, except there was no avoiding this confrontation. There would be no defeat, no handing over a token I’d barely muddled my way through making.
If I couldn’t outrun him, I’d out-argue him.
“Why do you think you’re in charge? I’d like to know that. Why is this any of your business?” I wouldn’t let my life be dictated to me, not by him or anyone else.
“I’m not letting you self-destruct, no matter how intent you are. Hand it over.” He didn’t budge.
My arguments hadn’t even gotten a flinch.
“The token is mine. I made it, and I’m not handing it over.” My chest tightened as I said the words that amounted to war. He wasn’t going to back down, and neither was I.
“That’s your final answer?”
Something about the way he asked set off a flutter through my gut, as if maybe I should reconsider for a second. I had a bad feeling that this wasn’t going to go my way.
“It’s my token and you’re not getting it.” I wasn’t going to back down. If he wanted this token, he’d have to claw it out of my cold. Dead. Hands. He must’ve thought a whole lot of himself, or his kisses, if he thought I’d roll over without a war.
“You really think you can stop me?”
He might be the scariest warlock in Xest, but I’d beaten Dread. I’d kicked a dragon’s ass. I was far from a slouch myself.
I lifted my chin another fraction of an inch, ready to do battle. “You’re not taking anything.”
He shook his head and made a soft sound of exasperation as he looked over my head.
See? I was tough. He was afraid to try to take it.
“I thought so,” I said, moving to step around him.
He shot his arm out in front of me and then circled my waist, lifting me off my feet as if I weighed nothing. I concentrated as hard as I could, trying to conjure up something that would take him down at the knees. Trip him. Knock him over. Nothing worked.
By the time we hit the hall, I’d given up on magic and used my legs to kick off the walls. Something finally threw him, and he dropped me as he fell. I immediately went to take off, but he had a grip on my leg before I could get far. He used it to flip me around, where I used my other leg to kick him, until he got that ankle too.
We fought our way up the hall as I screamed and kicked, missing him most of the time but making a good impression on the walls, the stairs, anywhere I could.
Zab’s head popped out at the top of the stairs. “Are you guys…”
Bertha walked up behind him. “They’re fine. They’re just working things out.”
Zab lifted a hand in my direction. Bertha used her boot to shove him the rest of the way into his room and shut his door before returning to her own, leaving us alone in the hall again.
“Let go of me. You can’t have it,” I yelled.
Hawk finally let go of both my ankles, and I shot to my feet, belatedly realizing it was a trap the second his shoulder hit my hip. He’d let me stand to make it easier to load me up again. With an arm wrapped tight around my legs, there was no option of kicking, and the blows I was raining down on his back didn’t slow him.
He kicked his door shut and continued across the room, dropping me onto the bed. I shot to my feet immediately, not that it made a difference. Hawk wasn’t budging, and I was all smoke and no fire.
“Since you’ve made your own token, I’m assuming you understand the basics of how they won’t work? That they won’t operate for anyone but the owner?”
He didn’t need to spell it out. Once he’d shut that door, I was done. There was no way out of this room without him.
I might only have smoke, but I was going to make a hell of a stink with it.
“You think this is going to stop me from going to the hill? You think you can stop me from doing what I want?” I yelled.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I think.” He angled his head down.
I’d never realized how much arrogance could be packaged into such a slight movement. It was misplaced. The girl that had been dragged to Xest, the one who ran from her own shadow, wasn’t the woman who stood before him now. No one told me what to do.
I planted my hands on my hips. “And what about tomorrow? The day after? You think you’re going to lock me up here forever?”
“If that’s how long it takes, it can be arranged.”
I’d never seen his eyes so hard, unmoving.
“You can’t watch me every second of the day. I’m going to get back to the hill.” Even as I said the words, I wasn’t sure if they were true. Hawk was unmovable.
“Only way you’ll get back there is if you kill me,” he said, his voice low and soft.
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Do your best, honey.”
He’d never called me honey before, and it didn’t sound sweet.
I grabbed the first thing my hand wrapped around and flung it at him. He ducked, the jar smashing against the door, leaving a golden liquid dripping down its surface.
He opened the door, not in a hurry as he smiled back at me, daring me to try to get past him.
I refused to give him the satisfaction.
He walked out. The door shut and I looked for something else to break.
21
I screamed until I had no voice left, and then broke everything I could get my hands on. I tried to break through the walls, the doors, but it was like hammering on the side of a mountain. It hadn’t brought Hawk back. He couldn’t hear me. No one could with the way he’d set things up.
The bed on its side, I dropped onto the floor, dragging a blanket over myself as a chill set in and the shaking grew worse. I lost track of time as I lay there, beginning to cramp everywhere.
I felt Hawk’s presence as he walked in a while later. He came over and knelt next to me. “If there was an easier way to do this, I would.” His hand touched my cheek.
“Stop talking to me. I have nothing to say to you.” I turned, giving him my back, trying to settle the edginess that was coursing through me. My hands shook, so I gripped the cover, not wanting him to see. He’d just say it proved his case
. All it proved was he liked to torture me.
He didn’t leave. I listened as he moved about the room, putting the bed together.
He knelt at my side again, his fingers grazing my neck this time. I shivered—even as bad as I felt, as much as I hated him at this moment, my body still craved his touch. I moved away from him on principle. He curved his arms around me, cradling me against his body as he stood.
“Get off,” I said. Every movement made my body ache.
He placed me on the bed before I had time to complain again.
“I don’t need your help. This is your fault. You’re the one torturing me.” Instead of sounding forceful, the words came out soft and hoarse.
My head was lifted and a pillow placed underneath it as he ignored me. He draped another blanket over me, tucking me in. I would’ve shoved it off, but I was too cold. I decided my best course of action was not to talk anymore.
Hawk grabbed a blanket and a pillow and walked across the room. I spied on his movements through my lashes as he dropped down in front of the door and settled against it, just to make sure I was thoroughly trapped.
“I hate you.” I pulled the blanket up closer around my head as another chill spread through my body.
“I’m not doing this to torture you. If I was, I’d let you keep going on as you were until you were dead or had to go back to Rest.” He spoke calmly, as if my bitterness and anger didn’t touch him.
“I think you like being a bastard and making me miserable,” I said.
He got up from his spot, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a familiar box. He tossed it onto the bed beside me.
“Touch it. Let me see your magic flare to life. Show me you’re fine and you can walk out of here.”
He stood there, arms crossed, daring me to prove him wrong. I froze, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the weird sickness passed over my body as I told myself to grab the stone. If I proved him wrong, he’d have to back off and leave me be. I could still get to the hill.
The struggle I’d had making the potion for Zurdoch had nothing to do with being weak. Nothing at all. It was a magic I’d never used before. Of course it would be a strain.
Just do it. Grab the stone.
“Too scared to be proven wrong?” Hawk didn’t move from his spot, waiting, daring me with his eyes to show him otherwise.
My magic had always been blinding, and it would be now. Even if I was stressed out and less brilliant, who’d notice?
I reached for the box and pulled the stone out. A rainbow of light broke out into the room, but it was no longer a blinding light. It was beautiful but easy to keep your eyes on, its intensity less than half of what it had been the last time I touched it.
I tossed the stone to the bed. “Your tricks aren’t going to work. You did something to it.”
There was no way my magic had gotten that weak. I looked at him, expecting to see glee. His lips were pressed together as if he were more worried than I was.
He reached forward and wrapped his hand around my wrist, feeling my magic again, before dropping it.
“So what if the hill took some of my magic back? Maybe it’s better that way,” I said, giving him my back again.
I’d known it, hadn’t I? Seeing it didn’t make any difference. Or it shouldn’t.
“You might be fine with something draining your magic, but I’m not.”
He moved away, neither of us talking.
I dozed on and off. Each time I woke up, I felt worse. Tremors were running through my body, like I was withdrawing from some sort of drug. My muscles cramped and I was covered in a cold sweat.
As the pain grew worse, my head seemed to be getting clearer. I hadn’t realized it was foggy until this moment. What had happened to me? I’d been going to the hill like some kind of addict, looking for a fix, all the while telling myself it was the right thing to do. I had no agreement from anyone. No sign from heaven or hell that this was part of a deal. I’d been willingly letting some unknown force leech magic out of me, and now here I was, a mess.
The sound of voices in the hall drew me further awake. I shifted until I could see Hawk at the door, talking to Bertha and Bibbi in hushed tones. He turned his head slightly, as if he sensed my attention. He nodded at them and then shut the door, but not before I caught the concerned looks on their faces.
I was glad. I couldn’t face anyone right now the way I was feeling, both physically or mentally.
The door opened and shut again. His footsteps grew closer. When I opened my eyes, he was staring down at me.
“There’s something wrong with me,” I said, and we both knew I didn’t mean physically, although that was obvious. I slunk down farther under the covers, shivering.
“I know,” he said, as if talking to someone who’d finally figured out the seriousness of their issues, when he’d been aware all along.
A few uncomfortable seconds passed by, and the painfulness of what I’d been doing continued to hit home. I couldn’t quite remember everything, but the room was tossed, and that had been my doing. I’d been a raving lunatic, trying to get to the hill. Out of my mind, trying to give away everything I had.
“Do you know what’s wrong with me?” I asked.
“No. You’re thinking clearer, so that’s something.” Hawk handed me a steaming cup of broth as he sat beside me on the bed. “I can’t fix you, since we don’t know what’s wrong, but this might make it a little easier.”
I nodded, swallowing past the nausea. “Give me whatever you’ve got.”
I shimmied upward, willing to drink anything for a little relief at this point, not caring what it was or where it came from. I took a sip, and then another, before draining the cup. I sank back down, hoping it would help.
After fifteen minutes, I was hopeful. After thirty, skepticism was setting in. After an hour, with my muscles spasming, I realized it might’ve made things worse.
Sleep wouldn’t come. My body was racked with pain. It felt like someone had reached inside me and was twisting my intestines and knotting them together.
Hawk was near me and then gone. Then back yet again. I’d feel his hands hovering over me with soft chanting. There were other hushed voices in the distance as well. Everything was filtered through a haze of pain as I tossed and turned, unable to find any position that offered me comfort.
My eyes were shut as I heard Oscar speaking to Hawk by the door. “Did you try to do it with…”
Their voices grew softer as the door was shut partially.
A few minutes later, Oscar’s voice was clearer. “You need to offer her the choice, then.”
I could feel Hawk’s gaze on me as he hesitated to answer.
“I will if it doesn’t let up soon,” Hawk said after a minute or so.
“She’s been like this for more than a day. How long are you going to wait?” Oscar asked.
“I don’t want her to have to make a choice like that in this condition,” Hawk replied, growing impatient.
“I’d want the option if it were me,” Oscar said.
Curling onto my side toward them, I opened my eyes. “What option? Is there something that can help? Whatever it is, I want it.”
Hawk’s jaw was locked, muscles twitching.
“Going to have to tell her now,” Oscar said.
Hawk shot him a look like Oscar was the one about to get his insides torn apart.
“You’ll want to discuss this in private, I’m guessing,” Oscar said with a shrug. He gave me a nod, sympathy in his eyes, before he walked away from the door.
Hawk hesitated for a few moments.
“What is it? Why are you holding out on me?” I asked.
He stepped forward but looked awfully stoic for someone who might be able to release me from my pain.
“I’m not holding out. I was hoping it wouldn’t be needed,” he said. “It’s not an easy fix. It’s not guaranteed to work, either, since we don’t know what’s wrong with you.”
“I don’t care wh
at it is. Just try it.” I curled tighter as more spasms stole my breath.
He moved closer, kneeling near the bed. “Because of what I am, things, other magics, they slide off of me. There’s a chance that whatever is affecting you can be drained somewhat onto me, but we’d have to join together.”
“Then do it,” I said. I lifted my hand toward him so he could join us. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I might start raging about how long he was taking and why he was staring at my hand, instead of doing what needed to be done. Fortunately for him, I didn’t have the strength to rage against anything. All I could do was lie there, my hand shaking from the exertion of even outstretching it, because all my strength had been sapped by fighting the pain for so long.
“That’s not the kind of joining that has to happen.”
I looked from my hand to his eyes, making sure I understood fully. The seriousness of his expression told me I was reading it exactly how he’d meant it.
I’d imagined sex with Hawk more times than I’d admit to anyone. In my visions, I’d been clean, wearing a cute outfit that he’d drag off my body in his need to have me. I’d smell sweet and be fresh as newly fallen snow. Not once had I been a disgusting, sweaty mess feeling like I was dying.
“Do you think you could?” I asked, knowing I would be a tough sell to anyone in my current state.
“Tippi, that is not going to be an issue,” he said, taking my hand.
“But look at me. I’m a mess.” Waking with more awareness of how utterly crazed I’d been was enough to make me want to hide under a rock for a decade. Now this? I wasn’t sure if my body was burning with fever or humiliation.
“You’re beautiful.” He brushed back the hair from my face.
I gritted my teeth as another spasm took hold.
Then he was pulling the blanket down. He was going to do it. I didn’t know how he’d stomach touching me, but I wasn’t going to argue. I couldn’t handle too much more of this.
He slid off my pants, his hand grazing my hip as his eyes took in my form. He didn’t look disgusted, but I wasn’t sure how he wasn’t.
Witch of All Witches: Tales of Xest #4 Page 13
