Witch Wars (Society of Ancient Magic Book 3)

by Fiona Starr

  I don’t know what to do. If I head back to the house and the guys aren’t there, I am going to lose time. If I head to the Society and Damon finds me, I have no idea what I’d do, but I don’t think I am strong enough to fight off an ancient vampire.

  I take a step down toward the lawn as a pair of ravens land on the quad about twenty feet away. Then another pair settle on the plinth where the founder’s statue once stood. Then two more ravens drop down, followed by another pair and another and another.

  A field of ravens is not something you see every day. I take them all in, easily a hundred pairs of the giant black birds, all of them watching me, their dark eyes blinking and their heads quirking from side to side, as if waiting for me to tell them what to do.

  The edge of my mind blurs and fades as the pull of Tobias blooms inside my head. I don’t know what he wants me to do. I close my eyes and conjure his energy, calling his rough, edgy essence to me. He doesn’t come, instead I am drawn to one of the ravens perched on a branch in a nearby tree.

  It sits with its partner, the two of them huddled together on the branch. The larger one croaks once, and the vibration of its call reverberates right through me like a cymbal, resonating in my chest until it becomes a solid hum running over my breastbone. Right under the raven mark, the gift I received the night my magic sparked.

  The raven croaks again, pushing the hum deeper inside me, like a hook snagging the core of my spirit. It takes hold and with a little tug, it starts pulling me outside of myself.

  I close my eyes and all at once I am seeing the quad through hundreds of tiny black eyes. The raven takes flight, lifting off, weightless and determined. I am flying with it, within it, seeing the world through its eyes. I know I am still standing on the steps of the infirmary. There’s a vague sense of my body waiting for my return. But none of that feels important as we soar across the quad, through the trees and up over the campus, climbing higher and higher into the night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MARCO

  Wake up.

  So much blood. The metallic tang of it fills my senses, overpowering everything. My wolf usually delights in it, the hints of iron and copper a sure sign that we’re about to feed. But something’s not right. I can’t feel my feet. I…

  Blood drips into my eyes. My blood. It’s moving over my… my ears… and down my snout. I watch it run like tears to the tip of my nose and then collect until it falls in a drop onto the puddle on the floor, then another falls to the floor, leaving a divot in the pool that smooths as it settles. That doesn’t make sense. Why is it moving in that direction?

  My body comes alive in a burst of pain and flashes of searing heat. I buck against it. I want to run, my wolf wants to run, but I can’t move my feet. I can’t… I can’t move at all. I’m trapped in some kind of hold and…

  Shit.

  I’m hanging by my feet and my arms are bound together and tied to something next to me. I search my memory, trying to remember what happened. I don’t remember shifting. The last thing I remember is being called into Allbright’s office at the Cottage with Van. After that, nothing.

  Marco? Are you awake? Talk to me.

  Angus is here? Ang? Where are you? I can’t see shit.

  I’m behind you.

  Where are we? Where’s Van? What the hell happened?

  He’s here. Can you turn around? I think I found a way out of here.

  I crane my neck and manage to swivel myself a little, waiting for the momentum to spin me around. As soon as I get a look at the space behind me I wish I hadn’t. Angus and Van are strung up by their feet, hanging from a beam about twenty feet in the air. They are covered in blood. Their own blood. It runs in streams down their bodies, matting in their fur and dripping to the floor and collecting in a trough.

  Oh my god. This is a wolf gallows—it’s how they used to execute shifters in the middle ages. Who did this? How did we get here?

  So much blood.

  I’m fading again. I can feel myself growing sleepy.

  Marco! Stay with me, bro. I need you.

  My eyes open and I have a view of Van. He isn’t moving. His limp body dangles from the gallows. He’s lost so much blood it’s almost impossible to tell what color his fur should be. I watch his chest, trying to catch movement that tells me he’s still breathing. I can’t hear him at all.

  Van! Wake up!

  Van’s body twitches. He moves his head just the slightest bit. His fur parts and that’s when I see it. The thick iron collar that used to be our prison. The slave collars the vampires used all those years ago.

  Oh my god. No.

  I turn my head and take another look at Angus. Sure enough, he’s wearing his old collar too. I’ve lost my mind. This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming. I’m having a nightmare and in my nightmare, my brothers and I are going to die.

  Marco! Angus interrupts me. Stay awake! He didn’t secure your collar. I can see the clasp from here. It isn’t secure. Can you shake it off? If you shake it off you can shift. I need to you to try.

  I hear my brother’s words in our shared wolf think, and I understand what they mean, but I can’t make them make sense. How am I back in this slave collar? I thought we put all of that behind us? How are we here? Has everything just been a dream?

  A door opens on the other side of the room, sending a wedge of light across the pool of blood beneath me. The door closes and footsteps echo through the chamber as the person draws near. No, there are two people. One of them is shuffling and nervous. I can hear the heartbeat. Two people. One heartbeat.

  Oh shit.

  Damon Underwood steps into the room, dragging Porter Allbright behind him.

  Porter’s eyes go wide when he sees me and my brothers hanging from the beam. We must look hideous, huge wolves covered in blood.

  “No. Please. You don’t have to do this. We can work together.” Porter pleads. He fights against Underwood’s grip on his arms, but a human mage is no match for the vampire.

  Underwood tips his chin in my direction. “That one there. The black one? That’s Marco. I can’t thank you enough for telling me his name. Though, I have to wonder how long you knew and kept it from me?

  Allbright’s face goes pale as he takes in what the vampire said. “What? No. As soon as I figured it out, I called you. I swear, I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I knew you would want to know…”

  Underwood shrugs. “Thank you for the warning. I knew they were close, but without my alarm I had no idea how close. These wolves are clever.” Underwood presses his boot against my ribcage and pushes me, sending me swinging. Then he drops his fangs and slices through Allbright’s neck, bleeding the man dry.

  The vampire snaps Porter Allbright’s neck before tossing the body into the corner. Then he smiles and rubs his hands together, oblivious to the blood running down his chin.

  “Now where were we?” Underwood picks up a knife from the table under the window and slashes it slowly across Angus’s chest.

  Angus’s wolf cries out as the wound opens, sending a fresh stream of blood to the trough.

  “That’s good. Well done. You bleed nicely.”

  Angus!

  Marco…

  The vampire moves to the other side of the trough and removes a plug from the bottom of it. The blood pours out like wine, following a channel in the floor. It doesn’t make any sense. I follow the channel. It’s carved into the stone of the floor, moving on a slight decline toward two stone boxes.

  Movement in the small window near the ceiling above draws my attention. A pair of tiny black bird feet hop up to the glass. When the bird bends to look inside, I know instantly that she’s here.

  Joely! Angus, she’s here. Joely! The bird stands there, impassive. A witness. It doesn’t make a sound or move away. It just stands there, peering down at us.

  Angus flails against his restraints as Damon cuts him again. No! No! Send her away. It’s too late. She can’t be here.

  No. It’s okay. It’s n
ot really her. She’s just watching. She sees us.

  Relief floods through me. She’s safe, somewhere else. But at least she knows we didn’t abandon her. It’s better that she knows we are dead instead of wondering forever what happened.

  I don’t feel the blade at first. It’s cool and thin. But then my skin opens and the warm rush of blood trickles down and everything goes black.

  Chapter Sixteen

  JOELY

  The raven releases its hold on me and I snap back into my body. Porter Allbright is dead. Underwood has the boys. And I am the only one who knows. Doubt settles like a ball in my belly. How am I supposed to save them by myself? I can’t do this alone.

  Tobias’s words explode in my head. You’re not alone. Go to them. Their blood calls for you.

  I take off running. I don’t question the stupidity of it. I can’t. My wolves are in danger and they don’t have much time. That monster is torturing them.

  I try to connect with their energy as I run. I can sense Marco and Angus, but I don’t feel Van. Wait… there. His cool liquid energy is weak, the signal is barely there, but as long as I can feel it I know he’s still alive.

  I push my energy out toward them, I need them to feel me and know that I’m coming for them.

  Hang on. You can’t die. I can’t lose you.

  I hurry around the back of the Society mansion, to where the raven flew. It’s a small, nondescript side building. It appears to be something used for storage or maybe an office for the grounds maintenance crew. It’s designed with the same stone facade and decorative accents as the mansion itself, but apart.

  The raven stands on the grass, peering through the ground-floor window on the west side of the structure. There’s a single door on that side of the building. But there’s no way I can go in that way without giving myself away.

  “All right, Tobias,” I whisper. “I could use a little help here.”

  Another black bird flutters in from the sky, dropping down on the other side of the building. I run toward it, into the field as a plan unfolds in my head. Flashes of a tunnel and a staircase and a large empty cavern fill my awareness. Whatever this little building is, it’s sitting on top of a network of underground rooms.

  The raven hops back and forth on its feet, dancing in place. When I get to it, I realize it’s standing on a door built into the ground.

  “Good bird!” I say as I push away tufts of grass and dirt to free the hatch.

  I can’t see a thing in the tunnel, but I can feel my men. I follow their energy, letting it guide me as I creep through the darkness. When I get to the room where they are, the door is open. A lamp on the wall fills the space with a warm glow. I lean in and take a peek, and try not to cry. I’m at the top of a stone staircase. The window where the raven stands is next to me, in the wall above the stairs. Underwood’s back is to me.

  My wolves hang from some kind of weird machine. It’s like something from a horror movie. They are hanging by their feet with their front paws bound and pulled to one side, preventing them from moving their limbs. Heavy iron chains hang from spiked collars that dig into their flesh. Blood drips from each of them into a container on the floor. The bottom of the container has a hole. The blood runs out of the container and along a groove in the floor. It leads to a pair of stone boxes. I take a step closer to get a better look.

  The lids to both boxes have been pushed aside. Inside lay the shriveled and dried up bodies of two people. Oh my god. They are coffins. Then these must be… horror at what I’m seeing washes over me. He’s been keeping them all this time? That is a level of crazy and gross that’s entirely in keeping with what’s going on here.

  The brutal hanging machine. The spiked collars.

  Underwood enjoys the cruelty. He seeks it out. A thin line of rage sparks in me, wrapping me in its heated embrace.

  Underwood’s voice echoes through the chamber. “I can’t believe you’ve been right here all this time. Hiding under my nose. What in the world were you waiting for? Fools. You should have killed me the moment you found me, because I will not show you mercy.”

  The blood moves from the channel into the first coffin. The body inside appears to absorb it, drawing it in from the channel like it’s sucking on a straw. As I watch, the body in the first coffin plumps up a little.

  I fight back the bile rising in my throat. That has got to be one of the grossest things I’ve ever seen.

  Underwood continues, “My sons have been waiting for one hundred and seventy-six years to return to the world.” Underwood has a knife. “I’ll take every last drop of their blood from your veins and when it’s returned to them, I will let you heal and then I will feed you to them.”

  And he’s—oh my god.

  The sound of the blade tearing through fur makes my gorge rise again, and makes the thin line of rage inside me grow stronger, larger. He’s draining their blood and using it to bring his mummified sons back to life. How is that even possible?

  What happens when the bodies are strong enough to stand up? I have no idea, but I know that three vampires will be much harder to kill than one. I look around. I need a weapon. There’s a table just inside the door. Maybe there is something there that can help me. I step into the room and I’m overcome with the sense of the four wolves. Yes—four. Tobias is with us.

  Wood.

  The single word fills my awareness and I know exactly what I need.

  I don’t know much about vampires other than the most basic things. The daylight and garlic thing are not true, and they can totally see their reflections. They’re very strong, and fast, and they have keen senses. They feed on the blood of mammals, and they have a horrible aversion to being staked with wood.

  The table is made of wood, but it’s too thick for me to break with my hands. On the table there are a few books, some candles, a box of matches. A bowl and a scrying mirror, but nothing that I can use.

  Look again.

  There’s nothing here! I look over the table again, and then crouch down to look underneath it. And that’s when I spot it. A bent tree branch, maybe four feet long, laying on the floor among the cobwebs and dust.

  I reach for it, stretching my arms as far as I can. And as soon as I grab hold, the entire room flashes bright white.

  Tobias appears in front of me, his white fur pristine and flowing as if he’s outside in the breeze. He bows once and steps aside as the light fades. Something inside my chest breaks open and I feel a surge of power wash through me.

  I know what I need to do before my body does. I can see it happening in my head, every move I need to make before I make it. Tobias has been right all along. I’m not alone. My fingers curl around the branch, holding it tight. I’m going to need to keep my hands steady for this.

  There are three vampires in this room, and I know that I have to end them if my men are going to have any chance at all. And I know that if I don’t succeed, all of them—all four of them—will be lost forever.

  I climb down the stairs, easing myself forward, watching the dance play out in my head. When I reach the bottom step, I launch myself into the air.

  Underwood turns and his eyes go wide at the sight of me. I throw a ball of fire at him, hitting him square in the chest. It’s not enough to kill him, but it buys me the time that I need. I land next to the first coffin and without a moment’s hesitation, I slam the branch into the thickening corpse. He isn’t a mummy anymore, but looks like half a person, still dead, still dried up, but closer to what he used to be.

  The vampire’s corpse explodes in a puff of dust.

  “No!” Underwood screams and comes at me so fast that he appears like a blur.

  I draw my energy in around me, feeling the power of my own essence create a sort of bubble around me. It’s strengthened by Angus’s solidness, and lifted by Marco’s airiness, and put into motion with Van’s fluidity. Even Tobias lends his course edge to my bubble, and it acts like a shield of thick energy, trapping the vampire and making it like he’s movin
g through molasses.

  Underwood’s fingers stretch out for me, his sharp fangs descending in slow motion. I pivot and bring the branch down into the second coffin, decimating its inhabitant in a burst of old, dead, powder.

  I slip and lose my footing, falling into the coffin. As I fall back, I drop the branch and splash into the pool of warm blood. My head cracks against the edge of the stone box and for a moment, my concentration is lost. My shield evaporates, freeing Underwood from the thick barrier.

  “What have you done?” He lunges at me, faster than anything I’ve ever seen. I clench my body instinctively, drawing my arms and legs in front of me as I try to protect myself. This is going to hurt.

  Roll to your left!

  Tobias’s command comes in a flash and I move without thinking, without hesitation. As I roll on to my side, I see the branch I dropped when I fell. I wrap my hands around it and feel the surge of power rise inside me as I lift it up, using the back of the box for leverage.

  Damon Underwood throws himself on top of me as I angle the branch at him. He sees the branch but he can’t stop his forward momentum. The vampire grabs hold of the branch as his body keeps moving, impaling himself on the wooden branch. His mouth opens in an ‘O’ of surprise. The last thing I see are his pointy fangs as he disappears in a puff of dust. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with reality. One second I am bracing for the vampire’s attack and the next I am covered in vampire powder.

  Underwood is gone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  JOELY

  I crawl out of the coffin and hurry to my men.

  “I’m here. I’m here, Marco. Can you hear me? Angus? Van?” None of them moves as I approach.

  Marco is the one closest to me. I check for his pulse, glad to feel his heart beating strong and consistent. He whines and writhes when I touch him, which makes me burst into tears. He’s alive. Thank the gods. Thank you Tobias. Thank you ravens.