Rosalie Franklin.
“Rosalie,” she said suddenly, gaining the attention of the two immortal witches as well.
Rosalie’s eyes were devoid of happiness as she took a step forward. “I don’t have a choice. They’re making me go through with this. The transformation. I’m only assuming you’ll be giving them the final ingredient—and then, I will no longer be human. I will be some sort of monstrosity. I’m sorry, Rebekah. I truly am, but—”
“Silence!” Elyse commanded, cutting off Rosalie’s rambling. Placing a hand on Rosalie’s shoulder, she glared at Rebekah and spoke calmly to Rosalie. “I would rather you not communicate with our donor.”
Donor? Rebekah found herself questioning as she examined the shackles that bound her to the wall.
“Not until the one who will extract the last ingredient arrives,” Rhiannon added.
Rebekah didn’t bother to struggle against the shackles, for she knew that would not help her situation. The only thing she could hope for now would be to wait until the mortals found her in a rescue attempt. Much like what happened with Mandy.
At that point, she had lost all concept of time. She didn’t know if she had been out for minutes or hours, but she guessed she hadn’t been unconscious for too long.
“Where is she?” Elyse asked no one in particular, obviously frustrated.
Rhiannon shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought she would have been here by now. After all, it’s only a matter of time before Henri shows up to see our progress.”
Rebekah refused to say what was on her mind, burning questions that continued to plague her. After all, she knew they would not get answered right away and that she would be met with more crude commands of silence. Sighing, she contemplated screaming, for someone was bound to hear her if she did so. But another glance at Elyse and Rhiannon told her otherwise. If only one immortal magic user had chosen to go after her, she would have easily escaped and not have been shackled to the wall in the first place. But alas, there were two of them who were more than ready to magically make her go mute if the need demanded it.
“I don’t believe I properly introduced myself to you,” Elyse said to Rebekah as she and Rhiannon took a few steps forward.
Rebekah still didn’t say anything; it was evident they were taunting her.
“I am Elyse Hansen, and I believe you’ve already met my sister, Rhiannon,” continued Elyse.
This time, Rebekah forced herself to ask one of the burning questions on her mind. “What do you want with me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” questioned Elyse. “You hold the final ingredient for Rosalie’s transformation. Blood; that’s what we need. Human blood.”
“And why did you choose me?” Rebekah spat, sickened by the fact that Rosalie was being forced to drink a concoction that contained her blood.
Elyse laughed. “We’re not the ones who chose you.”
“Then, who—” Rebekah didn’t finish the question, for at that moment, a mass of white smoke appeared. As the smoke eventually cleared, she could clearly make out someone who was the splitting image of herself.
Her true soul from Roseway.
Rebecca Johnson.
And then, it finally clicked. It was Henri who chose her to be the blood donor, and he was using Johnson to obtain it. Not Elyse or Rhiannon. In that moment, Rebekah realized she had forgotten the knife that William had given her, which was still underneath her bed. Shit, she swore again, for she was now completely powerless. When she left to find Holly, she had forgotten to take with her the one weapon she could use against any spirit.
“You actually brought her here like I asked you to,” Johnson said to Elyse and Rhiannon.
“It wasn’t that hard,” Elyse responded. “We found her in one of the hallways after Jason had placed this building under lockdown. She was practically begging for us to take her.”
“Was she, now?” said Johnson, smiling slightly. “How are you, Rebekah? I haven’t seen you since October.”
Rebekah said nothing as she watched Johnson draw out her knife.
“I can see you refuse to talk to me. I am awfully sorry for what happened in Roseway, but you see, I no longer desire your body,” Johnson said, inching herself closer to Rebekah. “The desire for immortality died the day the mortals stole Roseway from Henri…and me.”
“Immortality?” Rebekah spat. “What you were doing in Roseway was possession, not immortality!”
“You sound like Ava,” Johnson noted, temporarily turning away from Rebekah. “But I digress. I figured that, since you’re here, we should get to know each other a little more. For example, your full name, your likes and dislikes, and more importantly, your blood type.”
Johnson met Rebekah’s gaze again—and Rebekah pressed herself against the wall as much as she could.
“Let me start. My full name is Rebecca Elizabeth Johnson, and I was born in Roseway in 1845. I don’t have very many hobbies these days, but I’ve been in the care of Henri Anderson since I was six, which was years before he cursed the suburb—and he gave me a promise of immortality. Obviously, since the mortals took Roseway, I will never become immortal, or at least not the same way that Rosalie will gain true immortality,” said Johnson as she approached Rebekah and raked the knife across her arm.
Rebekah let out a scream of agony as blood oozed out of the deep wound.
“But other than that, there really is nothing more about me,” Johnson concluded as she held the knife over the cauldron and let the blood drip into the potion. Then, she turned to Elyse and asked, “Have all of the other ingredients been added?”
Elyse nodded. “It’s ready.” Summoning a cup in her hand, she scooped up some of the potion and handed it to Rosalie. “Drink,” she commanded.
Rosalie hesitated slightly, her eyes gazing over everyone in the room. It was evident she didn’t want to become immortal. After a few seconds had passed, she began to drink from the cup.
And the two immortal witches began to recite a poetic verse in crisp, clear Latin:
“Implebis imperium tuum physicam natura.
Sanguis tuus erit in frigidius.
Tuum erit magicae prominent
Tuum salutatur immortalitatem.”
The transformation soon began—and Rebekah was forced to watch the entire thing. Rosalie dropped to the floor, bathed in sweat, and her complexion dulled. Her eyes, which were once dark-brown in color, soon turned yellow as her human self was slowly being replaced by her new body. A much stronger version of herself.
Her immortal self.
Within minutes, the transformation was over, leaving behind a Rosalie that was now a witch.
Rebekah let out another scream as she took in Rosalie’s new form. Rosalie, whose dark-brown complexion now appeared almost grey, and whose yellow eyes looked so out of context from the rest of her form.
Johnson appeared next to Rosalie, her eyes still on Rebekah. “What a wondrous occasion!” she said sarcastically. “I believe a celebration is in order.”
Rebekah tensed as she squirmed under Johnson’s gaze.
“Rosalie, as celebration for your new state, I’ll allow you to make the final move,” Johnson continued. “Kill Rebekah Jensen.”
Rosalie’s eyes widened in horror, and she opened her mouth to protest. Yet before she could do so, a set of black smoke appeared in the room. Henri had arrived.
“Not yet,” Henri said as he emerged from the smoke. His eyes instantly found Rebekah’s. “Rosalie and I have some business to take care of.”
Rebekah defiantly met Henri’s stare as he wordlessly approached her, and for an instant, she felt like she was back in Roseway, seeing him for the first time before he had Johnson try to claim her. For a fleeting moment, splattered blood surrounded her, as well as unbroken jars of the substance—until, suddenly, the vision faded, and Rebekah was forced to come to terms with the fact her luck may have run out. She was trapped in a room with four immortal magic users, and she was going to die
tonight.
For a single second, Rebekah let true terror light up her features.
“Rebekah.” The immortal warlock said her name so softly she almost missed it. He stopped just a centimeter away from her and delicately clutched her chin between two fingers.
Rebekah shivered. His touch was as cold as she remembered, his demeanor as calculating. In an instant, his fingers left her chin and rested on her wounded arm, his thumb inching ever so closely to her still-bleeding gash.
His thumb suddenly brushed over the wound, and she winced at the sting of the contact. His eyes were still on her, and as he wiped away the blood, Rebekah could see a new thought enter his mind.
Without warning, he jammed his thumb into her wound, scraping his nail against its tender surface. Rebekah belted out a scream, and for a moment, she didn’t register the scream as hers. Though no matter how much she screamed, he kept applying more pressure until it felt like her arm was on fire.
Suddenly, he pulled away as he studied his thumb that was now soaked with her blood. Rebekah’s screams soon turned into pained whimpers, and she could have sworn she caught a hint of a smile on Henri’s lips.
“Rosalie!” Henri barked, and like an obedient lapdog, the girl Rebekah knew since elementary school stepped forward until she was next to the immortal warlock. Rebekah could tell Rosalie was afraid, but so was she.
“Your lessons start now,” Henri said as his eyes studied Rebekah. And then, she felt something within her right hand contort and bend her bones in unnatural ways. She screamed again as bone upon bone snapped and popped underneath her skin. And then, once it was over, the pain remained, and she could no longer move any part of that hand.
Rosalie’s eyes widened in horror as realization dawned on her. Henri just broke every single bone in Rebekah’s hand with nothing more than a thought.
And though Henri’s expression remained neutral, Rebekah could tell he was enjoying this. “Break her other hand,” he said to Rosalie.
Rosalie trembled as a fresh set of tears sprang to her eyes, further proof that she was trying her hardest to resist the evil associated with immortality. “I…can’t!” she protested weakly, and soon her new magic went into Rebekah as if trying to soothe her pain. For a moment, Rebekah’s pain lessened.
And then, she felt like she was being burned alive from inside her skin, and she screamed and screamed, scratching the inside of her throat more. Henri’s magic.
“You will,” Henri said as his eyes stayed on Rebekah even after the spell ended. “Or else I will do worse to her, and you will be forced to watch as I break her, knowing you could have done something to prevent it.”
And that was when Rebekah finally understood what was going on. Henri was forcing Rosalie to torture her as some sort of magic lesson.
“Rosalie,” Rebekah croaked weakly as she watched the girl contemplate Henri’s words. Yet, it was like she was speaking to a brick wall, and soon, she felt the bones in her other hand contort and break as Rosalie stared her down. This time, she barely registered the pain as her body was still fighting the effects of Henri’s lingering internal fire.
“Good,” Henri said once Rosalie was done. And then, his hands erupted in crackling, blue electricity. Rebekah watched him warily as he further closed the gap between them, her mind dipping in and out of unconsciousness. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeding the electricity into her system, and the sudden, never-ending shock was enough to wake up her senses.
He finally let go of her as his electricity fizzled out. “Your turn,” he said to Rosalie.
Horror filled Rosalie’s face. “Henri,” she pleaded as she glanced between the two of them. “Henri, please—”
Anything Rosalie was about to say died on her lips as random, bleeding lacerations appeared on Rebekah’s skin. Her mind threatened to pull her into unconsciousness again, but not before she heard the faint cackle of more electricity, this time from Rosalie’s hands. The lacerations suddenly stopped and soon were reversed.
“I’m sorry,” Rosalie whispered as she approached Rebekah. “Rebekah, I’m so, so sorry.” And then, Rosalie’s hands were on Rebekah’s neck, feeding electricity into her system like Henri had. The pain was even worse than before as it threatened to consume her, and she could feel her heart working overtime to combat the shock.
Suddenly, the door flew open, stopping everyone in their tracks. Rosalie’s electricity fizzled out as she quickly spun around. And Rebekah, as her heart rate returned to normal, forced her eyes in the direction of the doorway, fearing the entrance of more immortal magic users.
Jeffery Speirs stood in the doorway, scrutinizing the situation. And he did not look pleased.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
Holly: Munich, Germany
T
he first crash of the evening sounded before an orange glow appeared just underneath the door that led to the hallway. Holly noticed it a few minutes after Jason had placed the facility under lockdown, which left her with one conclusion: the building was on fire.
Shit, she swore in her mind, quickly turning to Jason for assistance. Yet, he made no move towards the hallway door. Why isn’t he doing anything?
“Jason, the hallway’s on fire,” Annabelle pointed out, saying what Holly was thinking. “Pretty soon, the entire building will be engulfed in flames. Should we evacuate everyone in the facility?”
“No,” Jason said. “That’s just what the immortals are hoping for—an easy way to fish them out of their individual rooms and into one big group.”
“But either way, they’re going to die.”
Again, Jason shook his head. “I trust my chaperones to keep everyone safe. There will be no casualties tonight as long as everybody stays in their assigned rooms.”
Suddenly, Holly’s mind traveled elsewhere. When I left, Rebekah was still in our bedroom. Hopefully by now, Andre and Courtney have returned with Mandy so she won’t be alone.
“Holly,” Jeffery said quietly, moving towards her, “you didn’t bring Rebekah here?”
Holly shook her head. “Why would I?” she questioned. “She’s safer where she is. I left her in our shared bedroom.”
“The fact she’s not here makes me nervous, Holly,” Jeffery said.
“You’re being overprotective.”
“Considering what happened in Roseway, am I being overprotective?” Jeffery inquired. “Henri wants her dead as much as he wants you dead.”
As Jeffery left her side, Holly knew he was right. Henri did want to kill Rebekah as much as he wanted to kill herself. He had a desire to kill all who were associated with the mortals.
“You’re right,” Holly said. “I should have brought her with me.”
Jeffery met Holly’s gaze. “Hopefully, Henri won’t get to her. If he does, it will be because of you.”
What? Holly wanted to shout, but deep down, she knew Rebekah would have been better protected if Holly had brought her here.
Minutes passed by slowly, feeling like hours, and those in the room barely spoke to each other. Holly distanced herself from them as much as she could, silently waiting out the Massacre. So far, no immortal had come for their deaths, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come later on.
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door, making Holly jump out of her daydream. Curiously, she started to move towards the door before Jason held out a hand to stop her. “Let me see who it is,” he said as he made his way to the door.
“Is it an immortal magic user?” asked Holly.
“I doubt it,” said Jason, “but just in case, stay back.” Then, he slowly opened the door, and Holly braced herself for a full-blown battle.
Andre stood in the doorway, and the look she wore on her face elevated Holly’s panic.
“Andre,” Holly said slowly, “what’s wrong?”
But it was as if she were talking to a brick wall as Andre didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, Andre’s eyes fell on Jeffery, and there was a sinister look about her
gaze that made Holly shiver.
Andre then lunged at Jeffery so fast that none of the other magic users had a chance to react. The two of them soon toppled over, smashing the poor table in front of the couch to bits. “Where is she?” she snarled through gritted teeth.
“Andre!” Jason bellowed. “What is the meaning of this?”
But Andre wasn’t listening as she picked up one of the shards of the table. “Where. Is. She,” she demanded, slower this time, as she hovered the wooden shard perpendicular to his arm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jeffery cried.
Andre sunk the shard deep into his arm, and the scream Jeffery elicited was nothing like Holly had ever heard before. “Andre, stop!” she cried fruitlessly, but Jason was already moving with quick precision. In one swift move, he hoisted Andre off his son and quickly restrained her. But what shocked Holly more was that Andre let Jason restrain her, as if there was still some of Andre left in the feral exterior she exhibited.
“You are going to tell me,” Jason said, his voice low and cold, “why you attacked my son.” His words chilled Holly, for she knew Jason could have Andre arrested and even executed for what she did.
Andre let out a bitter laugh, but she still didn’t struggle against him. “Your own son betrayed us,” she said coldly. “He’s working for Henri.”
Jason and Annabelle shot each other skeptical looks. “What proof do you have, Andre?” Jason prodded, though much to Holly’s surprise, he looked wary, as if so much has happened thus far that nothing would surprise him anymore.
“Kat turned out to be immortal,” Andre said. “Wasn’t Kat your son’s supposed rescuer?”
Jason didn’t say anything at first as he studied Jeffery’s fallen form. After a few seconds, he sighed. “Yes, she was.”
“Now tell me, why would an immortal witch rescue the mortal prince?” Andre paused. “Henri willingly let him go.”
Bleeding Misery (Threatening Souls Book 2) Page 40
