by R L Medina
Dread coiled in my gut. The other witches watched, and some looked away, but no one made a move to stop him.
I was on my own.
“You should be happy though. At least you got to be free… for a while.” His eyes narrowed.
My legs spread and knees bent, automatically going into defense mode. James watched me, an amused smirk on his lips.
The creep wanted this. He wanted to kill me. Ignoring the fear crawling up my spine, I readied myself. Without his magic, he was nothing. I could take him.
He reached for me and I leapt away from his touch. My body thrummed, ready to fight. I balled my fists and held them in front of me, waiting for his next attack. It came quicker than I anticipated and had me stumbling back. Cassiano’s voice echoed in my head.
Watch your feet.
His usual warning that came before his insults at my sloppy footwork. I swallowed hard. There was no grace or beauty to fighting like he claimed. It was violent, barbaric, reducing us to our basic animalistic nature.
James launched himself at me full force and all thoughts fled my mind. There was only survival.
I kicked. I punched. I flailed.
Sharp pain radiated through me, my labored breath filled my ears. With sheer force, he was on top of me, his hands reaching for my throat. I tried to duck out of reach, but his arms were a prison.
Panic roared to life. I twisted and squirmed trying to get out of his hold. My knee collided with his hip bone. He grunted and backed up. I swung my other leg out for a kick, but he twisted it. Sharpness speared through me.
He slammed me back, my head snapped, hitting concrete. Stars dotted my vision. The wall? When had we gotten to the wall?
Shit.
I leapt forward, throwing my weight against him. My elbows dug into his chest. Heart racing, I tried to come up with a plan. He wouldn’t stop coming after me. I needed to knock him out somehow. Or kill him, but I didn’t think I could bring myself to do that. Unless it was the only way to survive.
There was no time.
He pushed me back, shoving me against the wall once more. I scrambled, legs kicking out wildly to keep him away.
“Stop! You don’t have to do this. There’s another way. Stop!”
“James!” Ash’s voice called.
She rushed toward us, but he didn’t flinch.
He grabbed me by the throat. I couldn’t breathe. Panic spread inside me. Ash was at his side now, tugging at his arms, but he didn’t budge.
I clawed at his hands. My nails dug into his skin and though I didn’t have the werewolf gene, I dug in like a beast, drawing blood. I kicked blindly, praying I would connect.
I didn’t.
The world was growing hazy. No. My lungs and throat were on fire. Air. I needed air.
Please, God, air.
Something bowled toward us. James dropped his hold, and I sank to the floor, sucking in air. Pain spread through me. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. I sat alone on the cold cement with my pain, letting it roll through every part of me.
Alive. I was alive.
Voices rang out in the room. Angry, shocked voices. There was one that I recognized, that made my chest tighten.
“Grayson.” I could barely get the words out. Pain coated my throat.
He was at my side, helping me to my feet. A sob shook through me, inciting more pain. I touched my throat and winced. Bruising and a hell of a lot of pain at best.
“Rose.” His beautiful blue-gray eyes roamed over me, narrowing when they landed on my neck.
I glanced behind him to find James out cold on the floor. Dead? Knocked out? The other witches watched us warily. Anger burned inside me. They would have let him kill me.
Grayson hugged me to himself, his body warm and solid. I struggled with the emotions crashing into me. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. But a dark realization struck me.
“Where is Javi?” My voice was still hoarse.
His eyes were pained. Dread coiled deep within me. No.
“He’s alive, but the witches have him… I tried to get to him, but he’s injured. I couldn’t move him.”
An icy rush of fear filled me. “Injured? How bad? What happened?”
Grayson released me and stepped back. “He tried to fight off the witches. They have magic. He didn’t. It didn’t end well.”
My hand flew to my mouth. No. Javi. A tremor ran through me. “But he’s alive? He’s going to be okay?”
A grim look set on Grayson’s face. “If we can get him out soon, there might still be time. But we have to hurry.”
“How are we going to get out? How did you get away from them, Grayson?”
He looked up and glanced at the others, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’ll think of a way.”
I frowned at him. He didn’t answer my other question.
“You escaped the witches?” Ash asked.
Grayson glared at her. Her eyes flicked to me, guilt flashing on her face. I looked away, not ready to talk to her. She’d tried to stop James, but we both knew the truth.
If Grayson hadn’t come, I’d be dead.
Shuddering, I blocked the horrific thoughts before they could take root.
Grayson turned back to me, his face softening. “I have a way out.”
Ash gasped. “You have a conduit. I can feel it.”
He flashed her a dark look. “Why shouldn’t I leave you all to rot down here?” His gaze darted to James, who still lay unmoving, “He’s definitely not coming with us.”
Alive then. I stared at his hands and turned away. The memories of nearly dying were way too fresh and painful. Anger flared inside me. He would have killed me.
Ash stiffened. “Please, we can help you.”
I met her eyes. Desperation and fear swam in them. All murderous thoughts about James aside, I felt sorry for them. Guilty, even. They might have hated me enough to let me get strangled, but I wasn’t sure I could just abandon them to a worse fate. Not if I could do something to help. I snorted. Maybe the GRIMMs were a bigger influence on me that I thought.
Though at that moment, Grayson didn’t look like his usual ‘let’s save the world’ self.
“I don’t need your help, witch,” he answered.
The hardness in his voice made my eyes widen. Ash’s face crumpled and I could see it—we were her last hope to save everyone.
“Grayson.”
He turned to me. Brow furrowed. I fought the urge to smooth out the lines and trace his strong jaw line. Even disheveled and scuffed up after our ordeal, he was gorgeous. My eyes dropped to his mouth, a lump growing in my throat. I swallowed, wincing as pain took over.
“We can’t just leave them, Grayson.”
His lip curled in stubbornness. A stubbornness I wanted to kiss away.
“They were going to let you die.” The stark outrage and raw emotion in his voice made a shiver crawl up my spine.
I met his stare, not knowing what to say. He was as intense as ever and I couldn’t help get a thrill from his hand resting on top of mine.
“No! I would have stopped James,” Ash interrupted our moment.
Blinking, I cleared the fog and turned to her. She stood in front of the others, shielding them like a mother hen at the same time pleading with us with distraught eyes.
Guilt drilled into me. Could I really blame them for trying to save themselves? Would I have done the same in their place? I touched my bruised throat gingerly and shuddered.
“We could use them, Grayson. To help us escape and fight off the others when they come. They can use magic.”
His shoulders stiffened. “So, can we.”
I bit back a scoff. He could.
“We’ll help you heal your friend,” Ash was quick to offer.
Grayson sighed. “Fine. But we only need one of you.”
One of the little witches burst into tears at his words. Seriously? I was surprised the girl still had tears left to cry at that point.
I frowned at Grayson. “
No. All of them. If we want to get out, we’re going to need everyone.”
My eyes drifted to James, who was beginning to stir. “Even him.”
Grayson’s head whipped to me. “No. We can’t trust them.”
Ash walked toward us. “I’ll make a blood pact with you. Please.”
“Not with me. With her.” Grayson stepped aside and motioned to me.
Her eyes met mine. I flushed under her scrutiny. “No… Grayson…”
“Deal.” Ash cut me off.
My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure what exactly the blood pact meant, but the irony of her helping me when my mom was the cause of her mom’s death made me burn with shame.
“Give me your hand, Rose,” she urged.
I glanced at Grayson who nodded in approval. The last time I’d given a witch my hand, she’d been killed. Pushing away the dark memory, I held my arm out to her.
“Hold her. This is going to hurt.” She watched me as she spoke, but her command was for Grayson.
I started to withdraw my hand, but she grabbed it before I could. Grayson braced his hands against my shoulders, keeping me in place.
“Close your eyes, Rose. And… think of something happy. I got you.” He murmured.
What the?
I didn’t have time for that. Pain, red hot, searing pain overwhelmed my senses.
Then everything went black.
19
I was falling. I didn’t know where I was or why I was falling. Memories came rushing to the surface. The club on fire. Javi and my friends being flung to the road. The portal and the witches. Jesse being taken away. James.
Grayson.
My eyes flew open. I sucked in a loud, gasping breath, fresh pain washing over me. My throat was on fire. I stifled a groan. Even that hurt.
“Rose.” Grayson’s voice brought me back.
I was on my back, head cradled in his lap, looking up into his blue steel eyes. He brushed my hair out of my face. His fingers were calloused and warm, the sensation making me flush. I could only imagine what a nightmare I looked like.
“Hi,” I blurted, wincing.
When was the pain going to go away?
“It’s done. I’ve sworn my life to hers.” Ash stood over me.
I sat up too quickly, dizziness sweeping over me. My entire body throbbed with pain and my head spun.
“What?” I could barely get the words out.
“A blood pact. We’re blood bonded now.”
“What?”
Grayson stood and offered me a hand up. I took it and struggled to my feet.
“It means she can’t betray you. She’s duty bound to protect you at all costs.”
Ash nodded.
My eyebrow arched, but I didn’t know what to say. “Oh, thank you,” I finished lamely.
But why did it have to hurt so bad? If she was bound to me, did that mean I was bound to do the same for her?
She lifted her chin in acknowledgment and turned to Grayson. “The conduit?”
Grayson held up a small silver ring. A conduit. The others pressed in, their eyes wide with hope and excitement. I, too, could feel the pull and it surprised me. I’d spent all my time at the academy surrounded by conduits, but never felt the magic that strongly. Was it because I had my full sight now?
“Where did you get it?” Ash continued to stare at it.
She reached out for the ring, but Grayson fisted it. Her eyes narrowed.
“I just wanted to see what kind of magic it held.”
“I’ll do the casting.” Grayson fixed her with his glacial stare.
Ash’s lips spread into a smile. “Silver magic? That… could work.”
James sat up, holding his head. His eyes darted from Grayson to Ash and landed on me. I bristled. He wouldn’t get a second chance to kill me. A silent rage built inside me as he stood and walked toward us.
Grayson turned toward him, putting himself between us.
James scowled. “Magic? You don’t have enough power to cast with it, GRIMM. Ash is the most powerful witch here. Let her do it.”
Grayson’s body stiffened. I stood close to him, I could feel his heat radiating from his body.
“If you want to save your friend, we need to hurry. You said he was injured?” Ash asked.
Grayson didn’t budge. I bit my lip and touched his shoulder. He glanced back at me.
“Let her do it, Grayson. We need all the power we can get. We have to get Javi and get out of here.”
His lip curled, but he listened and set the ring on Ash’s open palm. I hated it too, but I wasn’t going to let my anger at James be the reason Javi died. The thought made my heart twist. No. I couldn’t let him die.
Ash’s eyes lit up, smile widening. “I can feel it.”
The others crowded around her with murmurs of excitement.
James gave her an envious look. “Magic?”
She nodded. “This will work.”
Her excitement stirred the air. My heart hammered in my ears, my own excitement growing. Yes, it could work. It would work. We were going to get out.
“How are we going to use this, Ash? There are too many witches up there. Once they get our conduit, we’ll be helpless all over again.” James’s words cut through the excitement.
He didn’t bother even looking at the rest of us, his eyes only for Ash.
“Then we get help. Someone more powerful than us that can break the coven wards. Then once the wards are down, we run. Make ourselves untraceable.”
James gave her a skeptical look. “Run? Run where? Most of these witches can’t do a simple disappearing spell. How are they going to erase their own auras?”
She squared her shoulders back, unbothered by his doubt. “We head for”—her eyes flicked to Grayson and me— “sanctuary. Those who can do the spell, do it now. I’ll try to cloak everyone else who can’t.”
James grunted. “I’ll help you.”
“And me,” another witch spoke up. Others whispered their agreement.
“But she knows. Jimena will know where to find us in… sanctuary,” one boy witch voiced his concern.
Now that escape was possible, they were all vocal about their opinions.
Ash held the ring up and closed her eyes. No one spoke. Grayson and I exchanged glances. What was she doing?
She opened her eyes. “Just trust me. I’ll get us to safety. First we need to worry about breaking the wards so we’re going to summon somebody who can help us.”
James frowned. “Who?”
She met his eyes. “Lilith.”
Gasps echoed. The room grew noisy once more with shock and murmurs of agreement.
Grayson scowled. “No. Pick someone else. And hurry the hell up. Before the coven comes back down here.”
James glared at him. “It’s not up to you, GRIMM.”
“My conduit. My rules.”
James’s face turned scarlet, his fists clenched. The memory of his hands around my throat made me shrink back while at the same time, it flamed the fury of my anger.
“She’s our best chance,” Ash explained.
The only thing I could remember about the name was that it belonged to some super powerful extraordinaire that some claimed was a goddess from another realm who popped in and out of our world when her followers needed her. Others claimed she was an ancient creature, whose true nature was erased by history, even from the GRIMMs.
“Call Baba Yaga.” Grayson insisted.
James snorted. “That old cow? I have more power in my pinky toenail than she has in her entire body.”
My lip curled at the image.
“We don’t have time to argue about this. We’re summoning Lilith. We can’t waste our once chance. Summoning anyone of power takes too much of our energy. We’ll be weak afterwards and we won’t be able to cast again for at least two hours. By then, the coven will know what we’ve done.”
Ash’s words rang through me. It was now or never.
Grayson sighed and gave her a n
od. We watched as the witches gathered in the center of the room. Grayson backed up, his body still blocking me from James, who ignored me as if nothing happened.
Anger rolled in my gut. How could he just stand there and pretend he wasn’t a murderous little snake? If I’d died… would that be end of Jimena? Was it that easy?
They stood in a circle, hands clasped and mouths moving in a chant. A coldness settled in the room.
“Summon her.” James nodded.
The air grew warm for a brief moment and then cold again. So cold, it felt like ice coated my skin.
“What’s happening?” My voice was a whisper.
Grayson grabbed my hand, his face hardened into a fierce determination that made me lightheaded. The boy was nothing like any other teenage guy I’d known. He was smart, strong, and so confident. It was impossible not to be impressed by him.
We stumbled back as the chants grew louder. Cold air clashed with warm, making my skin tingle with the same sensation. A ringing filled my ears and a strange, bitter taste filled my mouth.
“Is it working?”
No one answered me.
The witches continued to clasp hands, their eyes shut tightly as their words swirled around us. Wind whipped through their hair and clothes. Above, the light flickered, and I fought the urge to run.
Something was happening. Something real and freaky.
I stared in shock as a figure appeared. A woman. Not much taller than Shiloh. Her hair was a vibrant shade of purple, cut in strange, jagged strands. Her dark, pupilless eyes roamed over us. Fairy? She wore a tight, black tube-top and giant silver tutu with fishnet stockings. If it weren’t for her creepy features, I’d think she was part of some strange carnival entertainment.
She smiled, revealing sharp, little teeth. Definitely fairy, but where were her wings?
The witches blinked at her, foreheads creasing in confusion.
“Who are you? You’re not Lilith.” James spoke first.
A giggle escaped her. “Lilith? Why would you want her? She’s a bore. Trust me, you got someone much better.” Her eyes gleamed.
I fought the urge to shudder under her gaze.
“But who are you?” another witch asked.
The fairy lifted her chin. “Maloret. Princess of the Court of Shadows. And who are you?”