Forgotten Witch : A Lia Miller Series

by Sara Stone

  His betrayal led me to think irrationally. He expected me to confront him on my own, and that’s exactly what I had done. The realization slithered over me in a damp cool sweat. My heart thudded in my ears, as my mistake was clearly written out in front of me. He had killed Gram and now he was going to kill me. Everything she worked for was gone, because I thought I could be the hero.

  It was a momentary lapse as I tried to reign in my feelings. He took advantage, taking the last couple steps two at a time. He pushed me hard against the door, pinning me there as his fingerprints bruised my arms. He took in my horror as he stabbed a syringe into my neck. Everything slowed down, my head spinning. The look of victory on his face was swimming above me as everything started to blackout.

  “It’s a shame I have to kill you. I think I was starting to get used to the idea of having you as a plaything.”

  “You’ll…pay…for…”

  I slowly started coming to next to crates and boxes scattered about. The cement floor underneath me was damp, the cold biting into my flesh even through my clothes. I tried to move away from the floor, but my hands were shackled tightly, to the point I could barely bend my wrists. I pulled until the shackles bit into my skin. It was useless. My head pounded and my body was stiff. Worst of all, I wasn’t simply groggy from whatever I had been injected with—my spark had been subdued.

  I had tried to create a semblance of normalcy in the craziness of my new, abnormal life and it had put me in harm’s way. Judson was right, there were coven rules about this for a reason. If something happened to any of them, I would never forgive myself.

  My eyes struggled to see in the overwhelming darkness, until flickering light caught my attention. Candles were randomly placed around the room, casting an eerie glow along the walls and surrounding a black spray-painted pentagram on the ground. A woman was sprawled out in the middle of it, as if she had just been dropped there.

  I was past angry. Deeply hurt, betrayed, and mostly just sad that it had all come to this. The ache in my belly weighed me down with the knowledge that this was my fault. I rose to my feet, trying to not feel anything, knowing it would change nothing. There was only one thing left for me to do. Get Vengeance. For Gram. For my friends. For Mandy and all of the cursed witches.

  Brad stood with a few hooded figures about the room. They hadn’t started whatever it was they were going to do. I didn’t have time to throw myself a pity party. I hooked my thumbs back into the opposite wrists’ shackles. I called on ice, hoping it came as quickly as fire. I pictured it crackling along the metal, infiltrating the mechanisms, and then pictured the shackles shattering apart as it condensed together. My spark was slow to respond, fading back instead of pulling with the spell. Whatever drug they had given me was dampening my abilities. I was yelling in my head and pulling the spark towards my wrists so hard that I broke out in a sweat. It took such a toll on me that I lost hold of my spark, and darkness threatened my vision.

  I sank down to my knees hoping it would pass. Hot tears ran rivulets down my face. I tried to take calming breaths to center myself. Quitting wasn’t an option. I would die before I sat here and did nothing to stop Brad.

  I focused my mind on ice, feeling the cool of the floor beneath me pull from my knees to my chest, changing it from chilly dampness to bitter cold as it worked its way to my hands. My hands tingled and I started to shiver violently as my body heat was slowly pushed away.

  The shackles creaked with the onslaught of ice, frosty designs danced up the chains. It was a workout, keeping still enough through the body-wracking shivers to avoid alerting Brad that I was awake. I had one shot to pull myself free—I didn’t have it in me to again pull in the cold. I wrested my wrists apart until I heard a snap. The mechanism gave way and my frozen fingers stumbled, catching the pieces before they fell to the ground.

  I fought against the cold as I scooted over to a box, trying to catch my breath. I leaned around the box, taking in the areas that I could see. I had to plan. I couldn’t just run out and try to fight all the hooded figures on my own. One had pulled away the hood, revealing the sunken face of a vampire. Of course, he would have them here too.

  Brad was saying something, and everyone tightened the circle around the unconscious woman. I hoped she was just unconscious. The chanting began. I felt the stir of magic brush against me. Any remaining light was sucked from the room, leaving us in utter darkness. The only thing left to see was the woman starting to rise, illuminated only by an eerie glow.

  I was suddenly grabbed from behind, lifted from the crouching position by my hair. Whoever had me started to drag me around the boxes as I kicked out. I was hanging onto their hand before every hair was ripped out by my weight against them.

  They shoved me hard, and I fell, realizing they had put me into a circle of my own. When I turned to fight, I was met by an invisible force. This circle wasn’t part of my own spell; I could not just walk out of it. My head pounded where my hair had been pulled, as dread crawled across my skin. The damp smell of the warehouse was replaced by the smell of death. Its sweet acrid stench was locked in the circle with me.

  Sinking to the grimy floor, I tried to call my magic, my energy ebbing—it would come and then snuff out like the snapping of a rubber band. I was pulling it to me, but it would snap right back to behind a wall of sorts, where I couldn’t access it. I could feel my spark in my chest, but my magic seemed disconnected from it. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself to call it, but it was the same thing. Nothing was happening. I was already fighting off the chills while running into the wall, keeping me from reaching my spark.

  Chanting in the other circle reached a deafening level as the woman was halfway to the ceiling. Her arms and legs were limply floating about her. Her hair was whipping around her in a tangled mess. I could see there was a force pushing it around, but I couldn’t even feel it. Black inky sludge slowly climbed its way to her from where Brad stood. It was pouring from his mouth, which had stretched to an unearthly angle as it spewed from him. His eyes were solid white with unseeing eyes. I screamed with unbridled horror when he turned and sneered at me, as if he had felt my eyes on him. I crawled back to the farthest edge of the circle. I was shaking and my magic was sputtering. If I didn’t get through the wall, I was dead. Not just dead, but sucked dry of my magic, an empty shell discarded like trash.

  The black sludge slowly inched its way to the woman while filling the bottom part of the circle until I could no longer see through it. It inched its way to her, stretching out until it touched her leg. As soon as the black touched her bare skin, she started screaming in pain.

  I pushed for my spark to come, hoping to blast a hole in the side of my circle, and when it didn’t come, I prayed to Hekate for help. I prayed for the coven’s safety, I prayed for the witch’s soul about to be overcome with darkness, I prayed for my friends, but it felt wrong to pray for myself. If I was going to make it out, it was more than self-preservation. Saving one lost witch wouldn’t be high on the radar of a goddess, even if she had come to me before. If anything, she would ignore me now for failing her and the other witches so miserably.

  I could see the magic inside my head and chest. As I pulled, the familiar static ran along my hands, so I pulled hard until it came free with so much force that I toppled over, sending lightning crackling along the circle, with a bright white flash blasting the circle apart. Sitting up, I had only a moment to react before two hooded figures were instantly at my side. I sent out fire, catching their robes with the embers, just missing blowing them up by an inch. Each fireball I sent out took a small part of my energy with it.

  More hooded figures came speeding towards me, although a bit more cautious than the first ones. The fireballs, soaring through the warehouse, lit it up, exposing the vast number of vampires hiding in the shadows. There were way more than I had planned on. I was going to run out of energy long before I took them out. I needed to focus on killing Brad. I had no idea how I would get over to him without being r
ipped to shreds, but I had to try.

  I ran past some, getting my arms and legs scratched up in the process, as I sent them screaming with a touch of my burning hand. I wanted to stop and look at it, but there wasn’t time. I had to get to the witch—the screaming had intensified as the black had made its way up her leg, reaching to her hip, spreading up her abdomen. I focused my sights on Brad, sending wave after wave of fire, watching as he batted them away like they were mere houseflies—until one knocked him out of the formation of the circle with a blow to the chest. He stumbled back, resulting in a stop to the flow of his sludge. His white eyes landed on me, causing all the adrenaline in my body to flee. I had gained the courage to fight, and now I was too terrified to move. I was stuck in place as he blinked out of existence and reappeared behind me, the residual sludge he had oozed was running from his mouth, out onto my back.

  Instantly, I was in a dark hole. The sounds of screams and cries were deafening, as I was blinded in the dark. I could only crouch down and cover my ears, shaking in the worst fear I had ever known. The other sounds around me were too gory to even try to comprehend. I was sure that something or someone was being eaten alive, while others begged relentlessly for death. I couldn’t stay here. I had to find the light. My nails dug into the side of my head, as I tried to keep from hearing the terror and pain.

  If I stayed in his hold, I would go mad within minutes. I didn’t need to see anything going on around me, as my imagination made it that much worse. I reached for him blindly and sent my spark towards him. The only way I could think to defeat his darkness was my light. I pushed with everything I had, with every loving memory, every laugh I had ever shared with anyone. I thought of it. I thought of Gram’s hugs and her warmth and shoved it through my hands. The risk of him taking my magic was not half as bad as the risk of being stuck here for any more time. The longer my hands were away from my ears, the longer I thought that I was just losing my sanity. I didn’t even know if I really had a hold on him at all, but then the darkness started to fall away. Brad was standing in front of me trying to claw at my hands, which were glowing so brightly it hurt my eyes.

  The light was searing away at his skin, which took on a pasty white complexion as it started to run down him like juice from a popsicle. The only sound he was making was an awful hiss, which sounded more like steam. I couldn’t stomach it, but couldn’t pull my hands away until there was nothing left to hold onto.

  I turned around to find all the vampires running out the door into the light as Rose, Aldon, and Ulric ran around blasting the ones willing to fight to the death. Aldon’s fangs were dripping with blood as he ripped out the throat of one who was trying claw at his face. Instead of shredding his face, the feral being burst into ashes, and immediately Aldon rushed towards another one. Rose’s robes billowed out around her as she emitted a bright green light that blasted from her hands, causing the glass in the ceiling lights to explode into crushed glitter as it rained down.

  I stood there numbly swaying, until I saw her lying in the middle of the floor. The witch that had been in the circle screaming, was left in a heap. I ran to her, sliding on my knees as I rolled her to her back. Her blank stare, void of sight and color. I recognized her features, having seen her picture in Gram’s room before she put it away. I had snuck it to my room so often, Gram decided it was best for me not to see it at all. Her hair was the same auburn, and although her lips were fuller, she had the same face shape as I did.

  I couldn’t sit there staring; I scrambled to check her wrist for a pulse, taking in the black that had seeped into her skin. Every inch of her was covered, up to her neck. I laid my head on her chest and couldn’t hear anything. I started compressions, giving her CPR with every ounce of energy I contained. My body wracked with sobs I couldn’t keep in. How was this the way I would meet her as an adult? I had to bring her back. I kept going, blindly through my tears, until someone pulled me off and all I could do was lie down on the cold floor.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I laid on the floor, no sound reaching my ears except for a faint ringing as I stared at the ceiling, my arms too tired to hold myself up, my face cracking with the salt of drying tears. I was just trying to process what all had just happened. I couldn’t believe it was over. Ulric was leaning over me, his mouth moving, and his hands hovered over various injuries and cuts, as Rose covered my mother’s mangled body with a tattered tarp. I had never known her in my adult life. I would never get to. I saved my coven and friends, but I just wasn’t strong enough to save her. Flashes of trying to find her pulse and do CPR on her ran through my head. I wasn’t sure how they would cover up the evidence of witchcraft before police arrived, but Brad was gone and that was enough for me.

  Before I could take in anything else about the morbid surroundings, I was scooped up into strong arms and carried out into the sunlight. I curled into him, breathing in Judson’s rich cologne before he set me in his truck. When he climbed into the other side, he reached back, grabbing a blanket to drape over me, making me realize I was shaking. I silently took in that we were in the middle of nowhere. It was just a big parking lot with a single-story building with nothing but empty fields surrounding it. I was afraid to close my eyes in the fear that I would see all the ugly things that I had thought of when Brad’s soul sucking slime had touched me.

  I wrapped the blanket around me tighter as I looked out the window. If the tears were going to come, I didn’t want it to be in front of him. I don’t know why I was playing strong now, but I felt a need to stay as stoic as I could muster. Things were battling for answers, but they would wait until I knew my voice wouldn’t give away the pain that I was feeling.

  We reached my house faster than I thought we would, having started in an area I had never seen. I wanted the silence to stay, and thankfully, instead of breaking it because we were at my house, he remained quiet. He walked me up the stairs straight to the bathroom, where he stripped me down and put me into the shower. He didn’t undress, he just climbed into the water with me. The steam fogged up the small room quickly. The warmth brought feeling back to my feet and hands. The tears started rolling again, as the blood and black sludge ran from my body in rivulets down the drain. Judson turned me around and lathered up my hair, calming my thoughts. As he rinsed and conditioned, the calm deepened, spreading to my exhausted body to the point that when he pulled me into a big fluffy towel my eyes were too heavy to keep open. I vaguely remembered him pulling us into my bed, under the covers, all without trying to talk about my feelings or what I had seen.

  It was so sweltering I struggled to breathe, waking me up; I pushed off the blankets and wiggled around until I realized I was stuck under Judson’s heavy arm. I tried pushing it off carefully. I really looked at him, taking in his rugged features. Reflecting on how he cared for me through the night, I realized those rugged features hid a soft spot.

  I felt like I was past the shock of yesterday, and now I just had questions. Instead of rolling out of bed, I reached up and lightly traced his eyelashes. Barely feeling, a whisper of a touch. He stirred slightly, making me want to reach out and trace his lips. When my fingertip reached the middle of his bottom lip, he bit it lightly, causing me to scream, before we both started laughing. I tried hard to ignore the heat that little nip to my finger brought.

  “Mornin’,” the rough morning voice sent another wave of heat through me. I hid my face, realizing I had to look like a hot mess warmed up on a summer day with dragon worthy morning breath.

  “Morning,” I said, the covers muffling my voice. I pulled from the bed and took off for the bathroom. I ran a brush through the tangled mess of hair, throwing it up in a messy bun. I brushed the yuck off my teeth. It felt good to get back to normal, although the pain and fear lingered like a dark cloud in my mind, ready to rain on my day when I least expected it.

  “You okay in there?” he asked through the door. I tried to mumble around the toothbrush, but opened the door instead and nodded.

  “I’m
going to go get some breakfast. You think you’ll be okay?” He was acting like I was going to break. I probably was. I thought about staying alone, and I wasn’t ready.

  “No, can I…can I go?” I looked anywhere but at him. Admitting as an adult woman that I didn’t want to be alone wasn’t easy. It made me appreciate how strong Hattie had been, and showed me ways I could have been more understanding of her needs when she had been attacked. He grabbed my hand and gave it small squeeze.

  “Yeah, yeah you can.” He leaned over and kissed my hair before striding down the stairs.

  The amount of affection he was throwing at me was disarming. He didn’t lack passion, typically against me doing something or irritated at me for not listening, so for him to be so soft with me meant I had to be pretty broken. He had barely kissed me, and now he was showing me all kinds of affection. I tugged on a baggy sweatshirt and slipped on my fuzzy slippers, noticing I had never gotten dressed. The heat that burned my neck intensified as I remembered, embarrassingly, that he had to bathe me like a child. He saw me fully naked, and it wasn’t because we had an awesome date or couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves, but because I had gone all looney. By the time I climbed into his truck to go grab a pastry from Hattie’s shop, I was sure red would be the permanent color of my face when he was around.

  “What are you feeling today?” he asked, nonchalantly, reaching out and brushing his thumb over the back of my hand.

  Ugh, that’s it. Things were broken and hard to think about, but I could not let the awkwardness grow anymore.

  “I do better when you’re bossing me around.” I turned in my seat to face him, suddenly over his placating me. I needed his normal more than I needed him treating me like a broken child.