by May Dawson
More than anything, I was furious with myself now because I’d let my guard down for once. I knew better than that.
As we crossed the dark quad, Lex said, “Does anyone else have a weird feeling about this whole thing?”
“About Maddie losing her damn mind?” I asked. “Yeah.”
Jensen was silent, his hands in his pockets.
Chase said slowly, “I wasn’t there, but I find it hard to believe she just...”
“She did,” Jensen cut him off. “She went after Lex like she was trying to hurt him. You didn’t see it.”
Jensen’s voice was tight. I’d never known Jensen had such a protective nature.
Maybe that was Maddie’s doing too. She’d brought us together in the first place, and now in the wake of her destruction, we needed each other.
Lex looked around at all of us, and frowned.
“I thought you two had worked out everything from before,” I told Lex. “She still seemed…”
“Yeah,” Lex cut me off, as if he didn’t want to talk about it.
“What was Smith talking about, when he mentioned Clearborn?” Jensen interrupted. “He made it sound like Clearborn wasn’t anti-magic.”
“Where’d he get that idea?” Lex asked. He glanced at me.
“Maybe our cadre could have a heart-to-heart with him,” I said.
“Maybe our resident alpha could find something out,” Lex returned.
I sighed. Part of the deal for me staying here at the academy was that I didn’t attend the alpha council meetings. I hadn’t regretted it. My pack kept to ourselves, and I had no interest in pack politics. I wasn’t even interested in being the alpha. “I’ll try.”
Lex and I fell back behind the others. “What’s on your mind?” he asked. “There’s something else going on.”
“Why aren’t you pissed at Maddie?” I asked. “She abandoned us.”
I hadn’t realized I was going to whine like that until the words came out of my mouth, and I pressed my lips together.
“I am,” Lex said. “Believe me. What she said in front of Clearborn…”
He didn’t go on, but we both knew she’d humiliated him.
“Maybe she didn’t know he was there, though,” he said.
“She ran away and left us. Over nothing.”
“Yeah,” Lex agreed. “Unless….”
“Unless what?”
“Unless there’s magic at play,” he said. “Yet again.”
“You just don’t want to believe the worst of her.”
“Maybe not. Maybe you want to,” Lex said. “Not every coping mechanism we develop to protect ourselves serves us, Penn.”
“You’re right about that,” I said. “You might want to double check yours, my friend.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Echo
When I pushed against the door, it wouldn’t open all the way. I frowned as it ran into something, then paused. When I pushed the door again, it swung in.
Maddie was on her feet, her eyes shadowed, her lips pressed tightly together.
I glanced at the floor, but there was nothing blocking the door.
She’d been sleeping huddled against the crack in he door, as close to the light as she could get. Or as close to me. When my gaze returned to her, her chin rose defiantly.
“Nightmares?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“You wouldn’t tell me anyway, would you?” I carried the tray into her room, and her eyes widened at the scent of food, her nostrils flaring.
“Sit on the bed,” I told her.
“What time is it?” she asked. “How long did you leave me in here?”
I didn’t answer. “Sit.”
Her shapely pink lips pressed together tightly. But I had all the cards, and after a pause that was just long enough to make me worry she’d make the wrong choice, she sat on the edge of the bed. Only a small huff of disgust escaped her mouth, almost imperceptibly.
Her gaze kept going to the tray of food, though, and I could tell her dry mouth had already started to water.
I sat beside her, intimately close, then set the tray to my side. “Hungry?”
Cool blue eyes met mine. “You know I am.”
I loved her spirit.
“What was the final straw that brought you here?” I asked.
Her gaze flickered to the tray, then back to me.
“The debacle at the academy happened three months ago,” I said.
She didn’t look surprised. Good. She’d better know that the Day had spies on the inside. I’d done everything I could to tip off the alpha council, once I’d ingratiated myself enough here that I could get away with it. My position still felt precarious, but at least I’d been able to do that.
“Why now?” I demanded.
She sighed. “I was sick of everything. The rules, the guys. My life at the academy.”
“Oh?” I picked up the bowl of soup from the tray and balanced it on my knee, dipping the spoon in. Her gaze flickered to it. “You’re going to have to tell me a better story than that.”
Winter would want every detail from her. If she couldn’t tell me her story convincingly under the mild duress of a few missed meals and a dark room, the odds were high he’d take her back to that workshop of his and slit her throat.
She licked her lips. “That’s the truth. Everything changed after Silas…”
“After Silas died?” I supplied helpfully.
“I don’t know that he’s dead.” There was something fierce in her voice. Fierce hope.
“I think he’s gone,” I said. “Open up, rabbit.”
She studied me, her brows drawing together. “I promise if you give me that spoon, I won’t drive it through your eye.”
I stifled my urge to smile. “I’m getting very tired of repeating myself every time I talk to you.”
She hesitated, and then her lips parted. I slipped a spoonful of soup over her lips and into her mouth.
It was funny how much truth I could tell in the coven. I told everyone in the Day that I was going to make sure she relied on me completely, that she would obey me.
She couldn’t trust them. I was going to get her out of here alive, and with whatever she’d come here to retrieve. First, though, I had to make sure the coven accepted her. I had to find out what she even needed.
“Name the specific moment,” I said, “that you decided to leave the academy.”
“You’re awfully interested in my teenage angst.”
“You’re awfully disinterested in eating this meal.”
She tilted her head as she stared at me. “You said meal. You won’t even give away which one, will you?”
“I want to give you everything you want, Madeline. You just have to work for it a little.”
“I decided to leave the academy when some guys started bullying me and my team didn’t care. They still didn’t care, after all this time. They don’t have my back.” Her voice was suddenly heated. “I’m supposed to be the perfect girl, the perfect shifter. That’s the only way I fit into anyone’s world.”
“So you thought you’d try coming here and being the perfect witch instead?” I raised the spoon to her lips.
She swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I hoped I could be myself for once.”
“Oh, I doubt very much that you expected that. Would you like a sip of water?”
She looked at me skeptically. “What piece of my soul do you want for water?”
I went on drilling her, giving her every chance to straighten out her story, to iron out every little detail. No matter how hungry she was, it was hard for her not to be a smartass, and her soup went cold long before I was satisfied with her answers.
When the bowl was empty, she asked, “Why are you doing this, anyway? Hand-feeding me? It’s…peculiar.”
“Do you think I’m going to explain my methods to you?”
“The misery, I understand,” she said. “The torture.”
&nbs
p; “This isn’t torture. Not yet.” Not like what Winter would do if he suspected her. I wasn’t sure, but I thought my abuse might trigger his possessive impulses. If he thought I hurt her enough, he’d play the hero instead of subjecting her to all the pain he could inflict.
“Not yet,” she mouthed. Then she said out loud, “Wow. You are a very scary man, Echo.”
“And yet, you don’t seem appropriately scared.” I stood, taking the tray.
“I don’t scare easily, sorry.” No matter how grubby she was, and how shadowed her eyes, her bright, resilient spirit shone out when she looked at me.
“Says the girl sleeping on the floor so she can be as close to me as she can be,” I said.
Her posture straightened in a snap. “No.”
“If you lie to me, it’s going to be longer until I come back.”
Her emotions warred across her face before she said, “I’m not trying to be close to you. I’m trying to be close to the light.”
“Before you know it,” I told her, “it’ll feel like there’s no difference between my presence and the light.”
I could tell she wanted to tell me to fuck off, but she restrained herself.
“See you later, sunshine,” I told her before I closed the door on her again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maddie
My heart leapt at the sound of him just outside my door. Stockholm syndrome already?
When the door swung open, Alice Munroe stood there. I felt disappointed, but that didn’t make sense. I didn’t care about any of the witches. I cared about surviving, completing my mission, and making it back to pack territory.
“Hungry?” She carried a tray of food balanced on one arm.
“Careful,” Echo warned, in the distance.
I stared at her, debating whether to follow Echo’s ridiculous rules. This was probably some kind of test.
Echo appeared at her elbow. “I have to leave for a day or so. Alice will bring your meals, but stay out of your room.” He looked at her meaningfully. “The little wolf looks cute, but she’ll tear your throat out if you give her the chance.”
“I know,” she said, her voice exasperated. “The poor girl is probably weak with hunger and thirst, though. Can I take this in?”
He hesitated, then nodded. He pressed his hands to the doorframe, although he turned his face to one side so neither Alice nor I could see his lips move as he mouthed his spell.
“You don’t trust me?” Alice asked him, her voice hurt.
“I don’t trust anyone.” He touched her lower back, a quick gesture as if to comfort her after that truth, and the strangest jealousy flickered through my chest.
Alice’s eyes brightened as she gazed up at him. Ridiculous. I hoped I hadn’t looked that stupid pining after Lex and Rafe.
Echo’s gaze found me. “No talking.”
She set the tray next to me on the bed. It was a nice wooden tray, the kind made for serving someone breakfast in bed, which seemed hilarious under the circumstances. Two bottles of water lay on the tray, little beads of condensation forming on the plastic. On the plate, there was a sandwich, a handful of chips, and an apple.
I licked my lips, which were still cracked and dry. Was it poisoned? Nothing could surprise me now. Echo liked to feed me by hand; maybe this was his next trick. He’d punished me for even talking to Alice before.
“It’s all right,” she promised me. She glanced over her shoulder at Echo, who lingered in the doorway. “Jesus, Echo. She’s going to think we’re cruel.”
Echo crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway, his face resigned.
“Go ahead and eat,” she told me.
“She thinks the food might be poisoned,” Echo said. His gaze met mine, his dark eyes challenging. “I don’t know why we’d bother with subtlety. We could kill you eighteen other, easier ways.”
Alice studied my face, worry creasing her brow, then picked up the sandwich and took a bite from it. She chewed and swallowed, then held it out to me.
I took it from her and then, when she didn’t seem in any urgent danger of keeling over, stuffed a bite into my mouth. Turkey and cheese on white bread. It was delicious, but my mouth was so dry that I thought I’d choke on it, and I hurriedly uncapped one of the bottles of water. Water was more important than food, anyway, and I drank it as fast as I could, just in case I lost the opportunity later. My throat burned as the water went down, but it didn’t matter.
“Some homecoming, I know. I’m sorry about him.” She jerked her head toward Echo. “You can tell why he’s Winter’s favorite child, huh?”
Tell me this asshole was not my brother. His jaw tightened, as if he were exasperated she tried to talk to me.
“I don’t think Winter has any favorites,” he said.
From the look that crossed her face, she didn’t think that was true, but her back was to him so he didn’t see it.
I stuffed the rest of the sandwich into my mouth as fast as I could, then bit into the apple. The feeling of my teeth sinking through the skin, the crisp bite of it, the sweet juice filling my mouth—it was the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten in my life.
By the time I’d drained the second bottle of water, my stomach felt tight. I wondered how long I’d gone hungry since the soup.
“Where is Winter?” I asked Echo. I put a chip on my tongue and let it disintegrate there, tasting its saltiness, its grease. I didn’t dare eat anything more quickly. I felt sick, but I wasn’t going to let any food go to waste.
“Are you worried about what he might be up to?” Alice looked at me skeptically. “Why are you here, Maddie? You tried so hard to escape before.”
“That was before my side tried to murder two of my best friends,” I said. My voice came out brittle. “I thought I’d leave before I was next.”
Alice nodded thoughtfully, her face compassionate. But I kept stealing glances past her at Echo. Something drew my gaze to him, even though his arms were crossed and his gaze was on the floor.
“When you and Ty escaped,” she said gently, “you killed a lot of witches, Maddie.”
“It was an accident,” I said.
Except for the ones whose necks we snapped on our way out.
Echo snorted, but Alice ignored him. “You thought you were protecting yourselves,” she said, resting her hand on my knee. “I understand.”
She gave my knee a squeeze, then straightened. “Echo is trying to bring Winter back. But Maddie, they’ll want you to give up your wolf to prove you really want to be one of us. Are you ready for that?”
“It’s never done me much good anyway,” I said, but the memory of my wolf rose in my mind; in my shifted form, I was a slender gray wolf with bright blue eyes and a mischievous streak. I didn’t try to hide that I had mixed feelings about the idea.
I’d already made other sacrifices that I hoped could be undone.
She hesitated, then moved to the door. Looking up at Echo, she said, “I’ll look out for her while you’re gone.”
Echo’s lips turned up in a cruel smile. “I’ll miss her.”
He glanced at me quickly, his dark eyes flashing. “Be a good girl. Stay in this room. Don’t talk to anyone. Even Alice.”
He left me, then came back with the lamp and my watch, glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure she was gone. “Especially Alice. You don’t have any friends here.”
“Except you,” I said, my voice mocking.
He tossed the lamp onto the mattress beside me, then the watch. His tone matched mine as he said, “Except me.”
I grabbed the lamp and pulled it into my lap. I could brain him with it, but I was close to getting out of here, I could feel it. Winter would be back soon, and if he wasn’t, Alice seemed as if she would soften.
His voice was harsh as he added, “If you don’t listen to me, there will be consequences, I can promise you that.”
Yeah, very scary.
But maybe I was a little bit scared, since I cuddled my lamp and ig
nored him.
The door clicked shut, and then I was alone again.
I raked my hand through my hair. I had known intellectually that the Day would doubt me and that I might suffer while I tried to convince them they could trust me. But that was very different from being here, alone.
The ache I felt for my men was a physical thing. I missed them the same way I’d missed water. I shivered, wishing I could wrap myself up in their arms.
I should have broken the spell on my side, too.
But I still held out hope that I’d find that connection with them again, on the other side of this nightmare.
That meant someone had to hang onto the thread between us.
Someone had to hurt.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Echo
Alice walked with me to the car. The way she felt about me was palpable in the air between us. She exuded nervous energy, as if she were waiting for me to kiss her.
Alice was always waiting for me to kiss her.
“Be careful,” I told her, swinging open the car door. The cat, who had been padding along quietly behind us, jumped in. Her tail swished as she climbed into the passenger seat. I reminded Alice, “She’s dangerous.”
And I adored Maddie for it.
Even though I worried she’d try to kill me before I had the chance to tell her who I was.
Given how things had gone so far, she might still want to kill me once she knew.
“I know,” Alice promised, her gaze steady on my face.
“And so are they,” I added, worried that Alice was too naïve to see how dangerous our fellow witches were. I didn’t want to leave Maddie, but no one else was as adept as I was at opening the rips between worlds without Winter’s help.
“You be careful too,” she said. We’d lost contact with Winter, and someone needed to follow him through the rip to make sure he could come back home.
It irritated me to do it, but I slipped a finger under Alice’s chin and tilted her face up to mine. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”