I’d underestimated the number of steps and my calves are burning when we reach the top floor and burst through the door. Judging by the urgency of Beatriz’s text I’m expecting to see some kind of drama, but the roof is empty and silent.
Luisa and I double over to get our breath back and that’s when we hear it, the gentle sound of sobbing.
“What the fuck?” she mouths at me. But the sound is full of so much fear and pain it’s impossible to ignore.
Something black falls on me and I duck. It’s just a feather. But then I notice there’s more, two land in my hair, and another one sticks to my top.
I squint in the darkness, making out a couple of rock-like forms at our feet. Luisa crouches down and I join her, tentatively touching one of them. It’s cold but soft. She yelps and we both stand quickly.
The ground is covered in dead crows!
A wind kicks up and feathers start floating in the air like charred remains of a fire, swirling in my face and obscuring my vision.
Then I see Beatriz. She’s sitting in a heap on the floor before the aviary, her pretty purple dress from the wake fanning out around her.
Luisa walks up to her roommate, her voice gentle.
“Bea,” she says. She repeats her name for the second time, soft as a lullaby. “Bea. What’s wrong?”
“Someone killed them. All of them.”
Luisa looks wildly around her at the dead birds, but Beatriz hasn’t finished yet.
“Xavi and I snuck upstairs tonight. The wake was draining, and I needed him, and of course he came straight away.” She swallows a sob. “We wanted to make love under the stars, but he could tell straight away something was wrong. With them.” She sweeps her hand over the dead birds. “He shifted so he could communicate with the other crows, and he went in… in the aviary. And… And...”
Beatriz falls silent, her eyes fixed ahead. The aviary, which is normally full of jet black crows preening their feathers and getting ready to transport messages for the MA, appears empty. Except it’s not. The crows are still there but they’re all lying in a heap at the base of the cage, beaks open and blood matting their feathers.
Luisa swallows down a gasp. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Beatrice says, her head bent low and voice trembling. “There was a mist, like a grey cloud, at the bottom of the cage. I told him not to go in, that it didn’t feel right, but…”
“Where’s Xavi?” I ask.
Beatriz finally looks up, her face as black as the feathers swirling around our feet. Mascara has run down her cheeks and her hair, normally so neat and tidy, is tangled from the wind. Her arms are wrapped around something, like a child holding a toy in their coat to shelter it from the rain. She opens her hands, tears streaming wildly down her face, revealing a black mass curled up in the crook of her elbow.
A limp crow.
Xavi.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Why won’t you listen to me?” I scream. My mother and I are standing in her office and the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. We all went back to Luisa’s last night, but none of us slept. As soon as it was day, I messaged my mother, demanding a meeting about Xavi’s death. She refused to see me until mid-afternoon, and now she’s refusing to hear me out.
“Saskia, I have an Ascension to plan. The sickness that has spread through the aviary is concerning, yes, but we are already dealing with it. New messengers will be bought in.”
“I’m not talking about the damned birds! I’m talking about Xavi.”
“Why would I care that some random Shifter died?”
“Random Shifter?” My voice rises hysterically. “He was Beatriz’s boyfriend, Mother.”
“And she should know better than to mix with one of them.”
I slam my hands on her desk. “Did you do this?”
“No.”
She’s telling the truth.
“But you still won’t investigate his murder?”
“No.”
She glances down at her paperwork as rage bubbles in my chest. I want to rip every piece of paper in her hands to shreds.
“You know what?” I drawl. “Fuck this shit. And fuck you. I’m going home. You can clean up your nasty MA mess yourself. This hellhole of yours is nothing but murder, paperwork, and bigotry!”
I spin on my heels and face the door, but my mother halts me with her words.
“You can’t leave before the Ascension.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you are going to be my Second.”
I tip my head back and laugh, but her gaze is steady. She’s fucking serious. A chill shoots down my spine.
“I’d sooner die.”
“God, you’re so dramatic.” She purses her lips as if my boundaries are a mere suggestion and not something that would ever apply to her.
“You can’t control me, Mother,” I spit. “Just like you couldn’t control Mikayla. And it kills you.”
I turn around, intent on making my exit again, but this time she steps in front of me.
“That’s where you're wrong,” she says, her face inches from mine and voice dripping with venom.
For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid. There’s nothing she can do to me that she hasn’t done before. But then she flashes a smile as sharp as a dagger and turns her head to a shadow lurking at the door.
“Saskia, this is my new guard, Joaquim,” she says as if she were introducing me to yet another colleague.
Guard?
He’s blocking the doorway. “Move out of my way,” I growl.
My menacing stance is about as effective as a puppy’s. He squares his shoulders at my attempts to move past him. Shoving him is as easy as trying to move a brick wall.
The guard smiles, his mouth tiny and practically hidden behind his thick beard. Without a word, he lifts me like a child and takes me back into the office. I scream, kicking out and gnashing my teeth, but I can’t hit out as he’s pinned my arms to my side.
“Get off me!”
My mother simply stands there, impassive, as I thrash against the guard and he deposits me in front of her. I make a run for it again, but this time he pushes me so hard I go flying forward, stopped by my mother’s powers that drop me with a thud onto my back.
She looms over me and I skitter backward. Joaquim stops me by placing his boot on the back of my head.
“Did you really think I couldn’t tell you were resisting my touch abilities?” she snarls. “You thought you could use an antidote against my powers, and I wouldn’t be able to tell?”
I scramble to my feet, but the guard grabs me from behind, his arms locking around my waist and trapping my arms in place. Dread fills me slowly, from my toes to my trembling chin. Solina closes in on me.
“I had your room searched, and I found that nasty little potion of yours. You got it from some scummy New York Brew Witch, didn’t you? Because no member of the MA would risk creating a brew against me.”
No!
My father tried to warn me about her. Even in death, he was protecting me from Solina. I should have listened. I should have run days ago.
My scream is silenced by Joaquim’s fat palm clamping over my mouth. I don’t understand — I took the vial this morning. How could she have found it? She’s bluffing.
“You look confused, hija. Surely you don’t think I would have taken the bottle of brew from your room?” She cackles. “I’m not stupid, Saskia.”
It’s like she can read my thoughts. Then, with a shrieking panic, I realize she can. She can feel my emotions. Angel’s potion has worn off.
I stomp on the guard’s huge feet, pulling against his hold on me, but Joaquim’s deep laughter joins that of my mother’s.
“I swapped it,” she continues as if I'm not screaming or crying or trapped in the hold of a bearded giant. “I emptied the brew and replaced it with a placebo. Three days ago. Which means the effects should be wearing off just about… now.”
Te
ars prick my eyes. This can’t be happening. I came prepared, I knew what to expect, and still, she’s one step ahead.
“No,” I sob, taking huge gulps of air.
“A quick lesson in MA customs, hija. When a First dies, the Second inherits her powers. Now, I can’t just control what you feel, but I can also control what you do. I can access deeper Touchmage powers than ever before. Which means you will be my Second”
She beams as if I should be breaking into a spontaneous round of applause.
“Why me?” I croak, swallowing down the salty tears collecting on my lips. “Why have a weak Witch as your second-in-command? Why not Salvador?”
“It’s because you are weak that you will make a good Second. Saskia. I can’t risk working alongside someone who can overpower me.”
“But Salvador hardly has any powers. He can’t overpower you.”
My mother nods at the guard and his thick hand is back over my mouth. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. My head hurts as I try to make sense of her plan.
“You will become my Second, and you will remain entirely under my control. We simply need to get this tiresome Ascension out of the way and then, as fate intended, the de la Cruz Witches will rule the MA. Well... I will.”
She puts her hands on me and I scream into Joaquim’s sweaty palms.
This time not only do I feel the intent behind her touch, but my mother’s power flows through me like a snake made of pins digging its way under my skin. I feel her spell flood every vein in my body, sharp and spiky and so painful her guard has to prop me back up as my knees give way.
Obey, her magic is screaming as it travels up my spine and into my brain. Obey. Obey. Obey.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, my vision clouding and body threatening collapse, I stand up straight and let out one long breath.
“Well done,” my mother coos, as if I performed a trick and she hasn’t just flooded me with a million megawatts of pure bitch poison. “You can let go now, Joaquim. Saskia finally knows what’s good for her.”
The guard releases me but I don’t move. I can’t. My body is still humming, I can still feel every prick of every thorn beneath the surface of my skin. But I say nothing.
“You will come to the Ascension, and you will Ascend beside me,” she says.
Fuck you! I want to yell. I want to tear her eyes out, slap her, pummel her to the ground. But against every will inside of me, my lips turn up at the edges and I give her my sweetest of smiles.
“I will,” I say, with a dutiful nod.
“Good. Joaquim will escort you home now, and tomorrow morning you will go to Estrella’s. She will dress you for the Ascension.”
Every fiber of my being screams in protest, but it’s futile. Her magic remains swirling through my veins and I’m powerless to stop it. Like a good little Witch, a marionette in her hand, I follow Joaquim out of the office — a single tear drying on my cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I look on, numb and hollow, as Estrella’s fingers work nimbly over the hem of my dress. I wonder if she knows I’m under a spell? I wonder if she cares?
With every swipe of her diamond-studded thimble, my gown adjusts tighter at my waist and flows longer at the back. Her feline stole watches me, unflinching.
The fabric of my dress is smooth and pearlescent, with giant white blooms cascading over one shoulder and down my chest like a river of magnolias.
It’s beautiful and it feels light as air on my skin, but I don’t want it. I want to rip it to shreds with my teeth. Wanting it means wanting to be second-in-command to my mother, to be second-in-command at the MA. And although my body has been compelled to want this, my brain and soul are joined by a symphony of muted screams.
Estrella’s eyes flick up to me from the train. I will myself to tell her, open my mouth, but I can’t make a sound. I’m on mute.
Running doesn’t work either. The magic is so strong that after my meeting with my mom I went to bed and fell asleep, unable to answer Luisa’s panicked text messages. I want to be with her, I want to tell her everything, but instead, I made my way to Estrella’s the next morning and got fitted for my Ascension dress. The perfect picture of a dutiful heir.
“What will my mother be wearing?” I ask, tired of chewing the inside of my cheek raw in silence.
The old Witch makes a face. “A white gown, of course. You truly know little of our customs.” She sighs. “That’s why everyone wears our traditional color, purple, but the First and Second wear white. You and your mother are now the light in the darkness. Becoming First and Second is akin to being reborn.”
How do I stop this?
I try to say the words, I even attempt to reach out to the designer, but I’m frozen in place by Solina’s magic.
“What... What else happens? What other components are there?”
“There’s the water cleansing ceremony, my favorite, then there’s a bunch of fancy light magic, but it’s all for show, the most important thing is the equinox full moon. The moonlight itself is key. It must hit both of you, be felt by your magic for the bond to snap into place. That’s why the ceremony takes place on the roof of the MA. Nothing can obscure its light.”
“But don’t full moons last a few nights?”
She titters. “So human of you. Non-Witches think a full moon lasts three days, but in reality the moon is only truly full for a short time. Tonight. That’s when it’s at its most powerful. It’s most fortunate that your mother didn’t have to wait long after Maribel was… found. Because the next equinox won’t be for another six months.”
I bite down on my cheek hard for my next question, tasting the coppery tang of blood on my tongue.
“What could obscure the moon?”
OK. That worked. So, it looks like I can ask basic questions if they don’t pertain to the ceremony itself, just the moon.
Estrella arches a time-plucked brow.
“The weather can obscure moonlight, I guess. An errant cloud. But there will be Elementals on-hand who will create enough wind to ensure a clear sky. Stop worrying,” she snaps, refocusing on my hem.
Unless I can master the clouds, I have no way of stopping this. If I were able to communicate to Rafi, maybe he could keep all the other Elementals from shifting the clouds. But what if there aren’t any fucking clouds? I’m screwed.
Rafi can’t create the weather, he can only make it rain on a two-meter patch, for fuck’s sake! Something shifts in my brain as a memory of Rafi in a tux sweeps into my mind, followed by his words.
My Elemental abilities are a joke compared to theirs. They can bring about entire weather shifts and cause giant storms, that’s how powerful they are.
Estrella snaps me from my train of thought.
“We’re all done.” She groans as she straightens up and admires her work. Her face, tanned and lined as old tree bark, cracks into a smile. “I must say, these petals are very fine indeed. I’ve not made a dress like this before.”
I stroke the flowers adorning my chest. They are the shape of upturned umbrellas, opening and closing at my touch.
“What are they?”
“Moonflowers,” Estrella says. “They will sparkle when the moonlight hits them.”
My brain is still moving at a furious pace, following my earlier thoughts. Triumphantly, I grab Estrella by her bony shoulders.
“Thank you, Estrella! Thank you!”
Still in my white dress, I race out of the door.
“Get changed. You’ll get it dirty!” she calls out.
I don’t care. I don’t have long until my mother’s magic compels me to get to the HQ for the Ascension. Rafi may not be able to control the weather, but there is someone who can.
The Fae guards let me into the prince’s yacht without question — though they throw a dubious look at my runaway bride attire. They lead me downstairs to a pair of double doors, which a female guard opens silently.
I’m in the Winter Prince’s bedroom.
; What the fuck? Why wasn’t I led to the reception room like last time?
His bed is made of crushed blue velvet, the color of icy skies, with white silk sheets — which are currently wrapped haphazardly around three humans who appear to be peacefully asleep.
The prince sits up on his elbows, the sheets barely covering his Faehood. The rest of him is sculpted like his body is made of cool alabaster, with fair hair mussed up, soft tendrils falling into his eyes.
He studies me with curiosity as I avert my eyes and steady my breath.
“I need to speak to you, immediately.”
I’ve run across half of Barcelona in a gown, and it’s taken its toll. My chest is damp and my cheeks sting with the heat. Thankfully the prince’s room is so cold I’m cooling down quickly.
“We Fae are old folk, but we do have cell phones, Saskia.”
I stand up straight and look him straight in the eye. “If you didn’t want to be interrupted, then why did your guard let me in?”
“You are not interrupting. We’ve just finished this round.”
This round?
“How many rounds are there? Scratch that. Can we talk in private, please?”
He glances at his companions. They have ice crystals in their hair, and I can see a layer of frost against the dark shoulder of the woman beside him.
“They will not hear you. They’re in a tundric trance.”
“Don’t you mean tantric?”
“No. The cooling effect of my magic allows us to last far longer than in regular tantra,” he says, in his matter-of-fact Dutch voice. “Although, of course, I’m versed in that too.”
He gets out of bed, completely naked, and walks towards me. My flush returns.
“My, my, a prude Witch. How rare.”
“Whereas you really put the Ho in Holland.” I manage a taunting smile, even though on the inside I’m empty.
“No one calls it Holland. It's the Netherlands.”
“Fine. Then please put your Nether-” I wave my hand at his exposed junk. “Lands, away. I’m here for a serious reason.”
Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles Book 2) Page 19