Rebel Reborn (The Witch's Rebels Book 6)

by Sarah Piper

  All at once, the snow ceased.

  Reva disappeared.

  And there, in the place where she’d lain dying, was a single white feather.

  Thirty-Three

  GRAY

  There were no comforting words, no promises, nothing anyone could say to make this right.

  Reva had been stolen from us by the very woman who’d attempted to snuff out my life when I was a baby. The woman who’d attempted to kill us all. The woman who thought she could take over our home, our country, our world, bending it to her will.

  And now, for me, there was only darkness, powerful and all-consuming. Only hatred.

  It fused with my magic, black and powerful, pushing me through the crowds of fighters in search of my sisters.

  I found Haley first, and she took one look at my face and knew some serious shit was about to go down. Without a word, she followed me, and in a matter of minutes, we found Addie.

  “Trinity is here,” I said, sparing them the news about Reva. They’d hear about it soon enough, but right now, I needed them to be strong. Focused.

  “Where?” Addie asked, and Haley double-checked her weapons. Where seconds ago they’d been exhausted and battle-weary, my words had infused them with new life. New purpose.

  Trinity was the head of the snake. And that bitch needed to go down.

  I picked up on Darius’s scent, and led my sisters in the direction he’d gone, hoping that he’d already found her. Hoping that he’d kept her alive.

  Minutes later, we crossed the abandoned railroad yard, and found ourselves standing in front of a small cathedral, one of the few structures that seemed to have escaped the riots and battles unscathed.

  “In there?” Addie asked, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Darius tracked her here. Come on.” I led them up a set of stone steps and into the cathedral proper. The scent faded under the heavy smell of incense and candle wax, but I picked it up again quickly, following it down the aisle between rows of pews, to a small set of stairs at the back. Ronan and I had taken a historical tour here once, and now I remembered that the stairs led down to a long, underground chamber that was once used by the town’s founders to hide alcohol during prohibition.

  Silently, we crept down the stairs into the cold, dank tunnel below. It was deep underground, with high vaulted ceilings and pillars that stretched up to the darkness above.

  Of the three of us, I was the only one who could see clearly. But there was nothing but empty darkness, a sense of gloom weighing heavier with each step.

  Suddenly, I caught a fresh whiff of Darius’s scent, and I darted ahead, turning down another corridor that branched off the end, my sisters close behind.

  The moment I reached the end, torchlight illuminated the space, throwing eerie shadows on the wall.

  No, not shadows, I realized. A vampire. My vampire.

  “Darius!” I gasped, taking in the sight of him. He was chained to the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. Four hawthorn stakes protruded from his body. In his eyes I could read a thousand thoughts—I’m sorry, I love you, run…

  “Gray, we need to get help,” Addie said, but I knew it was already too late.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” a cruel voice cooed, and I spun on my heel, coming face to face with Trinity.

  “Is he yours?” she asked, stepping into the light. “You really should housebreak him, Morgan. Vampires can be rather dangerous.”

  Fear threatened to overwhelm me, but just as I’d had to do with Ronan, I shoved that fear into a box and locked it away inside. Darius would survive this. All of us would survive this, but only if I kept my wits.

  “What do you want, Trinity?” I asked, keeping my sisters close behind me. Of the three of us, I had the most active power, so if Trinity was going to blow, I wanted her to make me the primary target.

  “There’s no need for hostilities, Morgan. We’re all family here. Isn’t that right, Georgina?” Her eyes shifted behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder just as Georgie stumbled into the light.

  Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot. One of them was bruised. Blood crusted over a gash in her forehead, a matching wound slicing across her chin.

  “What have you done to her?” I demanded.

  “Oh, that? Just a little fall.” She waved off my concerns. Then, to Georgie, “Georgie! Don’t be rude. Come say hello to your sisters.”

  Inside, my magic roiled, but I kept it in check, not wanting to show my hand just yet. I needed to know Trinity’s endgame.

  “Trinity,” I said, softer now, hoping to catch her off guard. “Really. What is it that you want? We’re all here now. Just tell us.”

  She looked at me as if I were the dumbest person on the planet.

  “That is what I want. For us all to be here. Together. A real family again.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. It was just like the shit we’d overheard in the meeting during the blood spell. She was completely delusional.

  “If you wanted a family so bad,” Addie piped up, “why did you try to kill us?”

  Trinity pressed her lips together, hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with new fire.

  Behind me, Georgie trembled.

  “Why?” Addie pressed.

  Why. For so long, I thought I’d wanted the answer to that question, too. I thought I’d wanted to hear her excuses. Hear her tell me why she’d tried to murder her own babies. Why she thought magic and power were more important than her children. More important than the so-called “real family” she kept espousing.

  But staring into her eyes now, I saw only emptiness. Madness. Whatever my birthmother had endured in her life, it had broken her beyond redemption.

  There was nothing she could say to me to convince me otherwise. No answer would eradicate the pain of what she’d done.

  Raising my staff, I pointed it at her and ordered her to step back against the wall.

  “What is the meaning of this aggression?” she asked, still feigning innocence, even now. When I continued to glare at her, staff raised, she rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, for the love of all that is wicked.”

  She snapped her fingers, and Georgie let out a small yelp.

  Seconds later, shapes emerged from the darkness behind Trinity.

  Shifters. Hybrids. The same awful monsters we’d fought in the crypts.

  “Georgie!” I shouted. “Get back!” I had no idea whether she could fight, but something told me Trinity hadn’t trained her to defend herself.

  Haley, Addie, and I sprang into action, meeting the monsters in the center of the chamber. I blurred out of their reach, drawing upon my magic and the power of my staff to take down two in a single shot.

  “Gray! Help!” Haley shouted, and I was by her side in an instant, launching myself at the beast, knocking him to the floor just before he sank his fangs into her throat. I dropped my staff and grabbed the sword at my back, taking his head clean off before he could even get to his feet.

  There were about a dozen of them, but there was no way they were touching my sisters. No way they were touching Darius again. Clearly, my mother preferred not to fight her own battles; she’d much rather use her vampire power on teenaged girls.

  The thought of Reva brought tears to my eyes, but no. I wouldn’t go down that road. Not yet.

  Fueled by rage and adrenaline and magic and hatred, I whirled through the chamber, decimating my birthmother’s army in a bloody, chaotic battle that left me exhausted, but ultimately, victorious.

  When the last hybrid dropped to his knees, I cut off his head, sending an arc of blood splattering across my mother’s face.

  “I gave birth to you!” she shouted, as if that had any meaning to me now. I raised my staff, ready for whatever she decided to throw at me next.

  Movement in the shadow of the first chamber, and from the corner of my eye, I saw four figures charge forth out of the darkness.

  Not hybrids. Not rogue vamps. Not fae soldiers.

  Just rebels.<
br />
  Liam.

  Emilio.

  Asher.

  Sunshine and Sparkle.

  And then, bringing up the rear, with demon-black eyes and a seriously pissed off scowl, Ronan.

  He was alive. He was okay.

  And they were all here.

  Hope surged anew.

  I glared at Trinity, the magic inside me so desperate for a target, it singed my fingertips. “In case you haven’t noticed, bitch, I’ve been reborn.”

  Without another thought, I unleashed my magic through the staff, slamming a bolt of energy into the column closest to her, bringing down a pile of blasted concrete. It barely missed her head, but her lower body was completely pinned.

  “Georgie!” she shouted. “Do something!”

  But Georgie was looking at me. At Addie. At Haley. After a beat, she finally smiled, her eyes glazing with tears. She knew us. She felt us.

  Cutting her gaze back to Trinity, she shook her head, finding her voice. “You’re on your own now, you crazy bitch.”

  “You can’t mean that!” Trinity shouted.

  Saying nothing, Georgie came and stood beside me, her arms folded over her chest. As far as Trinity was concerned, Georgie wasn’t budging.

  Relief washed over me in waves. “Sunshine,” I called, gesturing at the pile of rubble. “Sparkle.”

  The hounds charged forward, taking point on each side of Trinity, growling in warning. Vampire strength or not, that woman wasn’t going anywhere.

  I raised my staff, pointing it at her face. “You’ve caused enough damage in your lifetime to last a thousand eternities. You’re done now. It’s over.”

  “Kill me, then!” Trinity shouted, completely unraveling. “If I can’t be with my babies, then just kill me!”

  Her eyes filled with fear, with hatred, with a self-loathing so endless it nearly sucked me down with her. Trinity truly wanted to die.

  But I wouldn’t kill her. Wouldn’t give her that gift.

  She had wronged us. She had robbed us of our childhood, of each other, of our chance to grow together and come into our powers. She had ushered in the destruction of the home I loved. She had killed and harmed people I cared about. She had masterminded a plot to eradicate most of the world’s witches and supernaturals and humans alike.

  She was pure evil. A monster in the truest sense.

  When I looked into her eyes, I felt nothing now. Not even a vague recognition, not even a flicker of compassion or regret.

  She deserved to die.

  But I could not—would not give her that escape.

  I set down my staff. Stripped off my sword and my daggers.

  After all the blood I’d spilled tonight, I was done killing.

  It was time to stand with my sisters. It was time for the four to rise.

  Instinctively, we all joined hands, with Georgie on my right, her grip warm and solid inside mine, her smile broad, her eyes determined.

  Sisters.

  Reunited.

  Rejoined.

  All of us had so much catching up to do, so much to reflect on and plan for, to laugh and cry, to learn and get to know each other. But that would come later. I knew it now with a certainty that wouldn’t be broken.

  For now, we had other business to finish.

  As the guys helped Darius down and removed the hawthorn stakes, my sisters and I flowed into a seamless chant, our unique magics combining into a powerful spell.

  “Bane of Silver, blood of fae

  We call upon your aid today

  The powers she’s stolen, the powers she’s schemed

  Reveal what is real, and not what is seemed

  Above and below, by stars, moon, and sun

  We bind her eternally, as four become one.”

  “What are you doing?” Trinity seethed, her eyes wide with fear and revulsion. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill each and every last one of you! The legacy is mine. It was always mine!”

  Her eyes bulged from her face, blood pooling in the corners of her mouth, but my sisters and I were undeterred. We repeated the spell, chanting until our voices were hoarse, and soon other voices chimed in. The witches we’d fought with in the streets had followed the guys here, and now they all gathered behind us, lending their voices to our chorus.

  Deirdre was at the front of the group, her eyes shining with pride. With love.

  I looked to her and nodded, making the tiniest space in my heart for forgiveness. Not today, but someday.

  Every witch in the room was chanting the spell, slowly leaching the stolen power from Trinity’s body, binding her so that she could never again hurt another soul.

  And in that moment of complete solidarity, I realized that this was it. What it was always supposed to be.

  It wasn’t our weapons or our fighting skills or even our magic. It was our loyalty. Our love. Our friendship. The bond of sisterhood that would never again be broken—not by a twisted hunter, not by minions driven mad by someone else’s cause. Not by words or fire or blade.

  I felt it in my fucking heart, my bones, all of me. This was the fruition of the Silversbane Prophecy, the four swords rising as one, uniting the others to overcome our enemies.

  It wasn’t about dominating or saving or asserting our will through sheer force.

  It was about coming together.

  It was, I realized now, about forging a new path forward—many new paths, in whichever direction each witch chose for herself.

  When the spell was completed, when we’d tapped almost all of our magic, my sisters and I finally unclasped hands.

  It was done.

  Trinity sat motionless, bloody tears tracking through the makeup and grime on her face.

  The witch was all out of words. All out of power. All out of hope.

  Turning to Ronan, I placed my hand against his chest, grateful to feel the steady beat of his heart once more.

  Then I nodded, steeling myself for what came next.

  “It’s time,” I said. “Summon him.”

  Thirty-Four

  GRAY

  “Where is she?” Sebastian’s voice slithered into my ears, and this time, I didn’t bother to hide my disgust.

  Moonlight filtered in through the stained glass windows on the main level of the cathedral. I stepped into the colored light, showing myself.

  Standing on the altar fifteen feet in front of me, the Prince of Hell spread his arms and smiled wide, a greeting that normally would’ve sent chills skittering down my spine.

  But tonight, everything had changed. Tonight, I was in charge.

  “Ah, Silversbane,” he said. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to stand me up.”

  “I’ve told you a hundred times, Sebastian. I don’t back out of my promises.” I took a few steps closer. “But you? You’re not exactly a model business partner, are you?”

  At this, he narrowed his beady eyes.

  “You’ve made us bow,” I said. “You’ve made us beg. And for centuries, my friends and I have done just that.”

  His faux-friendly demeanor was all but gone, and when he spoke again, there was ice in his voice. “As you should, witch. I am the Prince of Hell—a fact you seem to keep forgetting.”

  “Oh, I remember that fact, Sebastian. But now that you mention it, there is something I had forgotten until just this very minute.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “What’s that?”

  “At the end of the day, you’re still a demon, Prince.” I raised the gun and pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. His greasy smile evaporated as he stumbled backward, crashing against the wall at the back of the alter, sliding down to the floor.

  I looked at the gun in my hand and smiled. It was nothing if not efficient. Before Sebastian could even find the words to sputter at me, the devil’s trap was already working its way into his bloodstream.

  I took aim again, fired off another round. It hit his other shoulder.

  “No wonder the hunters love this thing so much,” I
said. “Effective, right? You don’t even have to be a good shot. You just… Oops!” I squeezed off another round, hitting him square in the chest. “Sorry! Sensitive trigger, I guess. Who knew?”

  His eyes glowed demon red, but Sebastian could barely hold up his own head.

  For the first time in our long and twisted relationship, it seemed the Prince of Hell finally knew the score.

  “So that’s it, then?” he raged, his words beginning to slur. “You’re just going to smoke me like a stuck pig?”

  “You deserve it.”

  “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, but are you prepared to deal with the demon who takes my place?”

  I shrugged, letting him stew in the silence for a bit. Then, quickly bored of the game, I rolled my eyes and said, “Who said I wanted to kill you?”

  “Kill, obliterate, what’s the difference?”

  “Are you always this dramatic? God, how did you get so far up the ranks with an attitude like that?” I stepped up onto the altar and crouched down in front of him, enjoying the view of his pathetic body crumpling in a heap. Meeting his gaze, I said, “I don’t need to obliterate you, Sebastian. I just need you to know that I could have. I need you to remember it. To think about it every day for the rest of your wretched existence. For all your machinations, your tortures, your power games—at the end of the day, it was a witch who put your balls in a jar. A witch whose soul you once thought you could buy.”

  Sebastian lowered his eyes. He had nothing to say to that. There was nothing he could say.

  “I’m officially taking myself off the market,” I announced, getting back to my feet. “As of right now, I’m no longer for sale—for you or anyone else.”

  Reluctantly, painfully, he nodded.

  “Say it,” I ordered.

  “You’re… You’re not for sale, Silversbane.”

  “Neither is Ronan.”

  His eyes blazed with fresh anger, but before he got another word out, I pointed the gun at his balls.

  “Say it. Ronan is not for sale.”

  “But his parents bargained away his soul in a fair—”