Captive Witch

by September Stone

  But the second comes from somewhere even deeper within me. Magic isn’t meant to harm. The twisting of my stomach and the acrid tang of bile in the back of my throat that have for so long accompanied every bit of magic I’ve worked finally makes sense. My whole body is rebelling against brewing these potions. The truth about the symptoms I’ve written off as a natural result of spell work is thrown into sharp relief: Even when I didn’t know what I was creating, something inside me did.

  As I stare at the bubbling contents of the cauldron before me, I know one thing for certain: I can’t do this. I won’t.

  But a second fact chases the heels of the first: I’ll suffer for my decision.

  Chapter Two

  Bryn

  Something in the air changes. My skin prickles in the way it always does when she’s near, and I whip my head around, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Mona. She must have entered the room while I was distracted.

  She looks beautiful as ever. I suppose it’s part of what she is. I don’t think she’s aged a day since I met her. Her burgundy hair hangs in straight sheets that reach her waist, and her turquoise eyes seem lit from within. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s not much older than I am. Twenty—or am I twenty-one now?

  Her cherry-red lips curl as she studies me. “Bryn. How is my favorite girl today?”

  Favorite slave is more like it, but I bite my tongue. Anger crackles in my veins and it takes all my willpower to keep from balling my hands into fists.

  Mona tilts her head. She doesn’t look angry—she never does. No matter the situation, Mona is the picture of poise. She wears a sleeveless black dress that hugs her every curve so closely I wouldn’t be surprised to learn someone sewed her into it this morning. And while the cut isn’t revealing, it leaves little about her body to the imagination. The fabric is rich and matte, and I imagine she wouldn’t look out of place sitting at the head of a board room table. “I received a report about one of the guards putting his hands on you. Is that what’s got you out of sorts today?”

  I grit my teeth. Of course Aldridge would go running to Mona. His unwelcome gazes over the years are enough for me to guess what he’d do to me if he were permitted. But Taj isn’t like that—or, at least, I don’t think he is. I’ve never felt uncomfortable around him like I have the other guards. I don’t want him to be reassigned—or worse.

  “Nothing inappropriate happened. I tripped and he caught me. End of story.” It’s in line with what Taj told Aldridge, so the words come easily.

  Mona takes a step forward, her eyes still on me. “If that’s the case, why do you still look upset?”

  I swallow around the lump in my throat. It’s one thing to decide I can’t go through with making a potion; it’s another to refuse Mona to her face.

  As if sensing the struggle within me, Mona’s lips curve. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Her voice is always pleasant, but there’s something musical to these words. The lump in my throat dissolves and my lips part before I’ve come up with a suitable lie. “I can’t make this potion. It’ll kill whoever drinks it.”

  I slap my hands over my mouth. I hadn’t meant to say that. A person doesn’t tell Mona no.

  Mona’s luminescent eyes narrow. “I’m not asking you to like what you make, Bryn. Your job is to do what I tell you.”

  Now that the truth is out, I can’t not address it. “But I can’t make something that will kill someone.”

  Her brows furrow. “Why not? You have before.”

  The words hit me like a physical blow and I step back, knocking into the table behind me. “I… I have?”

  She chuckles throatily. “Well, of course, dear. It takes a very special kind of witch to create such dark potions. Most witches—even earth affinities like yourself—can make potions that would make someone ill. It takes someone considerably more special to craft a brew that could kill someone. You, my girl, are one in a million.”

  My vision swims as her words sink in. “I’ve… I’ve killed before?”

  Mona sighs. “My child, don’t be so dramatic. You’ve done what you’re told.”

  I turn back to the table, my eyes lighting on the objects I know so well. The cauldron, the scale, the marble cutting board and silver knife. How many times have I used these very things to create something deadly?

  Mona hasn’t just used me; she’s perverted my abilities and made me into something I never intended to become. I stare at my hands as if seeing them for the first time. How many people have died because I followed directions without asking questions?

  My body thrums with anger and I throw the remaining ingredients to the ground. I stomp on them before gripping the sides of the cauldron, ignoring the heat that seeps into my palms as I pull it off the burner and send it crashing to the floor.

  Mona takes a half step back to avoid a spray of ceramic chunks. “Are you finished with your little tantrum?”

  I glare at her, too angry for words.

  She raises her chin. “Good. No meals for two days for that stunt. Now clean up and start again. I’ll have another cauldron brought to you. This time cast iron.” Spinning on her heel, she stalks toward the door.

  It’s not until her hand touches the doorknob that I find my voice. “No.”

  She turns slowly. “Excuse me?”

  “I said no. I won’t make it. I’m done making potions for you.”

  Rage flashes in Mona’s eyes and her lips curl, marring the serene beauty of her face. “Pick up the knife.”

  Even through clenched teeth, Mona’s tone is musical. My fingers slide along the surface of my worktable until they graze the handle of the silver knife I use to cut herbs.

  Something in the back of my mind whispers a warning, but my brain is too full of fuzz to make sense of it.

  “Splay your other hand on the table,” Mona purrs. “You don’t need all ten fingers.”

  I knock the digital scale out of the way and press my left hand to the tabletop. My right hand lifts the knife, aiming for my little finger.

  A dull thudding echoes against my ears, but I ignore it. The only sound that matters is Mona’s voice.

  But when she speaks again, the words aren’t musical, and the fog in my brain ebbs.

  “Aldridge, what is it?” Mona snaps.

  “My apologies,” Aldridge grunts, panting. “But you’re going to want to see this.”

  I blink and focus on the silver knife in my hand. Why am I holding this?

  “Patel,” Mona says sharply, “take Bryn back to her room. I’ll deal with her later.”

  I set the knife on the table and shake away the last of the fuzziness in my head.

  The intensity in Taj’s gaze takes me off-guard. He grips my upper arm, pressing urgency into my skin. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

  His words send a shiver through me. “What’s going on?”

  The compound is in motion. More guards than I’ve ever seen at one time stride through the halls, their pace as quick as it can be without breaking into a jog.

  Taj isn’t moving any slower than the rest of them, and it takes all my focus to keep up with him. He walks with purpose, wincing as voices shout words I can’t decipher into the earpiece he wears.

  “Taj, what’s happening?”

  He ignores me, and while his grip on my arm isn’t painful, it’s insistent. As we approach my room, a dozen guards dash down the hall, semi-automatic rifles at the ready.

  In all my time at the compound, I’ve never seen activity like this. Everything has always been so controlled, so mechanical. The flurry of activity brings a flutter to my stomach.

  I could get away and no one would notice.

  “Let me go,” I murmur. It’s not a plea but a request.

  Taj glances down at me like he’s just now remembering I’m there. “What?”

  Before I can come up with a compelling argument to get Taj to release me, he opens my door and shoves me into the room.


  And follows me inside.

  My insides turn icy when he pulls the door close behind him. The lock clicks with a hard finality that makes my stomach drop. No matter how many times he’s slipped into my room, he’s never locked himself in.

  “Taj?” I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling.

  His expression is hard, distracted.

  I clear my throat. “Shouldn’t you be out there dealing with whatever’s going on?”

  I’ve never seen Taj as a threat. But when his eyes flash up to meet mine, my image of him shatters. No longer is he the friend who sneaks me books and chocolate-chip cookies. In this moment, he is a man on a mission, and the set of his jaw tells me he won’t stop until he’s attained his goal. He pulls something from his back pocket, and in two strides, he’s across the room. His strong arms grab my shoulders and pin them to the far wall.

  I try to lift my feet—to stomp, to kick—anything. But Taj presses his thighs to mine to keep me in place.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  He pulls his face back just far enough to look at me. “The thing I’ve wanted to do for a long time now.”

  Tears bite at the corners of my eyes. This is nothing more than I deserve. I’m not the kind of person who’s meant for happiness. I couldn’t have a normal family, and when I dared to get close to someone here, Mona sold him. She sold Calder because of me, and there’s no telling where he ended up—or if he’s even still alive. And now, when I thought I’d finally connected with another person, he turns out to be just as bad as all the other guards.

  With everyone in the compound distracted by whatever’s happening, no one will notice Taj is missing, and this is probably the last place anyone will look for him.

  I’m trapped.

  Chapter Three

  Bryn

  A hissing sound cuts through the air, accompanied by an odd crumbling noise I can’t identify. An acrid tang burns my nostrils.

  “Hold your breath,” Taj says, his voice tight. “It’ll be over in a second.”

  I don’t want to do what he says, but my body obeys without question. My lungs protest as I hold in the air, but something in me wants to trust Taj. I want to believe he’s good.

  When I’m sure I’m about to pass out, Taj sucks in a deep breath. “It’s okay. You can breathe now.”

  I pull in a breath, choking when I taste ash. Taj pulls me to his chest as I cough, rubbing circles on my back. The motion sets off explosions across my skin and I pull away. “What are you doing?”

  A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he nods at the center of the cell floor.

  Except there’s no floor anymore—at least not in a circular area about three feet wide. I step toward it and peer over the edge—into the cavernous room below.

  I turn back to him. “I don’t understand.”

  Taj’s brow furrows like he’s perplexed by my confusion. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  My mind spins as I try to take it in. Taj is trying to… rescue me? From what? I have no idea what the other guards were mobilizing against or why I’m not safe in my cell. And if the aim is to move me to a more secure location, why not go through the halls? Burning a hole in the middle of the room seems extreme if I’m to return here once the danger passes.

  Unless he doesn’t intend to bring me back here. Is it possible he’s planning to take me away from Mona for good? The thought is almost too much to hope for.

  “I’ll go down first,” Taj says, edging toward the hole. “Then it’s your turn.”

  Before I can say anything, Taj drops into the darkness below. I tense, expecting to hear an echoing scream, but a moment later, his voice calls me softly.

  I peer over the edge, relieved when the sight is only half as scary as I anticipated. The light from my fixture casts a pale yellow circle on the empty floor below. Taj stands in the middle, holding his hands up expectantly.

  Shouts outside my door send my heart up into my throat. If someone comes in now, I’ll never get away.

  Sucking in a breath, I leap through the hole. Before I can panic, Taj’s strong arms wrap around me, helping me find my footing. His eyes sparkle with something like pride.

  “There you are, love,” he murmurs, his breath tickling the side of my face. Another surge adds to the adrenaline spiking within me, but it has nothing to do with the possibility of escape and everything to do with Taj’s warm palm pressed against the small of my back.

  I know we need to keep moving, that if we stay here, there’s a very real possibility someone will find us in what appears to be a janitor’s closet. But for the moment, I savor the promise of no longer being at Mona’s beck and call.

  Taj blinks, shaking his head. “We should get out of here, yeah?”

  I nod, and when he slips his hand into mine to guide me through the L-shaped room, I don’t hesitate. But as we edge further away from the light coming from the cell above, I can’t help thinking of the time my old roommate showed me to her secret hiding spot, telling me I could use it because she’d found a better one.

  The memory stops me in my tracks. “What about the others?”

  Taj turns, releasing my hand. “I’m sorry?”

  “Are there still others here? Mona’s other pets? Back before she put me in solitary, there were dozens of others. What about them? We’re not just going to leave them, are we?”

  Instead of answering, Taj turns to the door behind him. He cracks it an inch and peeks into the hallway before pulling it open and motioning for me to follow him.

  My muscles are wound tight as I creep in Taj’s footsteps. “Are we going to get them now?”

  He glances over his shoulder, his expression pinched. “Be quiet. Do you want someone to hear us?”

  I speed up until I’m right beside him. “That’s not an answer.”

  He presses his lips into a tight line. “Yes, there are others here. But, no, we’re not getting them.”

  My throat goes dry. “Why not?”

  Shouts rise up in the hallway in front of us and Taj sweeps his arm out, tucking me behind him. I hold my breath, but the voices fade without passing by us.

  “Why not?” I press when I’m sure the danger has passed. “I can’t just leave them here. They’re all prisoners—just like me.”

  He sighs. “This is a raid. Joint police and FBI task force. They’ll find everyone Mona’s got stashed away. After tonight, they’ll all be safe.” Grasping my hand, he tugs me down the hall again.

  I sift through his explanation. It makes sense. If the authorities are finally coming down on Mona’s operation, they’ll make sure the others like me are safe. But if we’ll all be free after tonight, it leaves another question unanswered.

  “Why are you taking me? Why not just let me be rescued with the others?”

  Taj peeks around the corner before slinking into the adjacent hall. “I’ll explain later.”

  I’ve spent too much of my life not asking questions. Even half an hour ago, I may have simply done what I was told. But something has broken loose inside me and I can’t simply follow orders anymore. I plant my feet firmly and tug on his hand until he turns to me. “No. Explain now.”

  There’s a note of pleading in his dark brown eyes. “If we don’t get out of here, someone’s going to find you. Soon everything will make sense. We just have to get away from here first.”

  Although I allow him to pull me forward again, the questions in my head continue to spin. If the authorities are finally taking down Mona’s operation, why is it so important that I escape?

  Mona said I was special—one in a million. Does that mean her other pets aren’t? Or is there another reason?

  Taj leads the way through a door at the end of the hall and down three flights of stairs. I do my best to keep my breathing even as we descend. Every shuffle of our feet seems to echo off the walls, and I’m afraid my hammering heart will alert anyone in the vicinity to our location.

  The hall at the bottom of the stairca
se is more industrial than the ones above. Windows line the walls on either side, horizontal blinds shuttered tight against prying eyes. Dull pops sound at intervals and it takes a moment to put my finger on exactly what I’m hearing.

  Gunfire.

  I want to know who’s doing the shooting and which side is winning, but I don’t bother voicing the questions. All that matters is getting out of here without one of those bullets finding us.

  When we reach the end of the hall, Taj peers around the corner before turning to the right. A door with a lock like the one on my cell stands ten feet away, and we jog to it. He swipes his badge and an eternity elapses before the light flashes from red to green.

  I expect to find myself in another storage closet, so the heavy scent of pine freezes me in place.

  I’m outside.

  Instinctively, I look skyward. There are no lights on this side of the compound, and above, between the wall of the building and the branches of the nearest trees, I catch a glimpse of glittering stars.

  As I breathe in the thick, humid night air, something inside me stirs. Like a fairytale dragon that’s slept for centuries, the magic in my core rises to take in its surroundings.

  Taj tugs on my hand. “This way.”

  I don’t follow. My pores drink in the night the way parched earth soaks up water. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To the people I work for. There’s so much to explain, and you’re still not in the clear. For now, I just need you to trust me.”

  The words tear through me like a knife. Just trust me, baby. Those were the last four words my mother ever spoke to me. After my father died, she changed. I have only a few memories of the vibrant soul she used to be. By the time she handed me over to a euphorium dealer in exchange for her next fix, she was barely a shell of a person—let alone of the person she used to be. I was afraid to go with the strange man, but she promised me everything would be all right and that she would come pick me up in a day or two. Just trust me, baby.