A Witch Among Warlocks: The Complete Series Box Set

by Lidiya Foxglove

  “Can we—can we talk first, maybe?” I tried. “What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to ask questions first and then torture me if I don’t answer them?”

  This witch looked like a crazy person already, like she was not interested in questions. Her hair was a wild dark mane streaked with silver, her eyes a lovely pale blue—she was actually rather beautiful for an older woman—but they didn’t quite make contact with mine. She picked up a switch off your classic wall-of-torture-thingies. This was going to ruin any chance of getting experimental with Harris later, wasn’t it?

  “Ohmigod ohmigod please—please wait!” I shrieked.

  Then again, I don’t actually want her to get me to talk, I thought. I have a diabolical plan of my own. I can’t let her know about it.

  “Oh god,” I whimpered.

  Charlotte, you fought a demon. This is nothing.

  But…this was actually somehow worse than fighting the demon. At least I could fight the demon. Right now I couldn’t do anything. I was just trapped in anticipation, with no idea of what she would do or how long she would do it for. It could reach the female equivalent of James-Bond-in-the-testicle-torture-chair and was anyone going to rescue me? I had a feeling my friends were busy with their own…stuff.

  She struck my bare stomach with the switch. Once, twice, three times. So fast that the pain didn’t hit until they were over.

  And then it was worse than anything I could imagine.

  “Is that all you got, bitch?” I said.

  No, I wish I had said that, or anything besides what I actually said, which was to sob out, “I want my daddy.”

  I hadn’t called my dad ‘daddy’ regularly since freshman year of high school when I realized that all the sophisticated girls had moved on to ‘dad’, but I was being tortured, okay, don’t judge.

  “Which one do you call ‘daddy’?” she asked.

  “Oh my god, I mean my actual dad!” I saw myself through her eyes. She had probably gotten the scoop on me, that I was the witch who went to warlock school and was suspected to be in a relationship with more than one guy, and I must seem really pervy to her.

  Maybe I am really pervy, actually, but not in a bad way. So there.

  But I still felt myself turning crimson.

  She went back to pacing, occasionally brushing the switch across my skin so I shivered back, but drawing out the time, making me wonder. I trembled, tears already blurring my vision.

  “They told me all about you,” she said. “You were at Merlin College already. You broke the rules. You need to understand down to your bones what the consequences of this behavior will be.” She struck me again, this time on the back of my legs. “Witches need to know their place. Witches need to be gentle—demure—ladies—wives—mothers!” With every word she hit me with more force.

  “Please stop…please, please, it hurts…”

  Turns out I was not very tough when it comes to torture. I hoped Harris never found out. Were they torturing him? Was he crying? I liked to imagine that he was just sweating it out. Alec already worked out every day, which was basically torture already, so he should be able to handle it. Montague? Not sure.

  It helped to think about them while she was between lashes. I tried to make my brain go somewhere else. The pain demanded attention, though. It was hard to ignore that some of the most tender places of my skin were screaming with pain and I couldn’t even clutch at them. I remembered when I got a wasp sting while playing outside and I ran crying to dad. Your mom always said honey is good for stings. Let’s try that, okay? Here, eat a spoonful and make sure that honey is still good. It is, right? Delicious.

  I felt so alone right now.

  She struck me again and again and I was a sobbing mess. How long would she do this? What if she struck me until she broke skin and I was scarred for life like when Black Jack whips Jaime in Outlander? Why oh why did I watch so much stuff with sexy men getting tortured really badly?

  I was blubbering out my pleas.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you that time won’t heal. A fair bit of time, perhaps… The pain is cleansing, sweetheart. You’ll realize that eventually.”

  “What do you want from me…? Please!”

  “Stop.” Firian suddenly appeared next to her. “Take me in her place.”

  “Firian, no!” I screamed.

  “I’m her familiar. I’m supposed to tell her the ways of Etherium. Right from wrong. I’m the one who failed her. I’m the one you should be lashing.”

  I swear, Firian had never looked sexier than in that moment. He was so much taller than the older witch, and his golden eyes were so intense when he looked at her, and so tender when they briefly switched to me.

  I remembered that I was never alone. Firian knew when I was in pain even when he wasn’t present.

  I felt so much stronger, just seeing him. It gave me the one thing I could fight for. Sparing him from pain. “No,” I said. “This was all my decision. You’re a good, devoted familiar. I’m the one who broke the rules.”

  “Charlotte,” he said gently. “Let me do it.”

  A part of me wanted to say yes. Just to escape the pain. Just to let him protect me, because he always did. But that was why I absolutely could not let him suffer for me. Firian lived for me. He was bound to me. I would never know if he acted entirely out of free will. I had to protect him too.

  The witch looked at me. “It is good that he watches.”

  “Firian,” I said. “I command you to go.” I shut my eyes. “Plea—ahh! Ahaa…ohh…”

  The pain lashed my back. The witch hammered me with several blows in a row only to pause and let them sink fully into me. All I could do was scream. All I knew was pain.

  When I opened my eyes, Firian was still there. Torn between wanting to intervene, but not to make things worse; to leave me alone in my pain but to stay by my side. I knew what he was thinking.

  He wouldn’t leave me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Charlotte

  “Okay. Not gonna lie, this place is horrible,” Daisy said, sitting down with her plate of beef stew and rye bread. “They made me talk to my grandmother on the phone for like two hours. I mean, actually, she just yelled at me, not like I got a word in edgewise.” She looked at the rest of us. “Oh—wow—you guys look bad.”

  “Charlotte was tortured,” Montague said somberly.

  They all looked ready to kill for me.

  “Tortured how?”

  “I mean, struck. Whipped. She can barely walk.”

  “I can walk,” I hissed. “Calm down.” I pulled my hood over my head. I was in so much pain that I came to dinner in my pajamas. Firian had to help me change clothes, after tending to my wounds with magic as best he could. I wished he was still here, but we knew it was too dangerous for him to be seen with me.

  I was still in constant pain all over. Ms. Torture Witch had hardly left anything unscathed. My skin was ribboned in red markings, some of them now turning to bruises from the force of her blows. Just lifting a spoon to my mouth hurt. I was only here and not in bed because I didn’t want the guys to completely lose their shit over what happened.

  Anyway, I didn’t know what they’d been through either. They all looked upset but none of them seemed physically harmed.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Alec said, taking the spoon from my hand.

  “No—don’t feed me.”

  “Your arms are shaking just trying to eat. Please. I want to take care of you.” There was something a little extra fierce in his defense.

  “How are you guys?” I asked. “Y’all don’t seem hurt…but…” There was something haunted in all their faces.

  Except maybe…

  I raised an eyebrow at Harris. He had a different look. Just plain pissed.

  “They gave us visions,” Alec said, glancing at the other guys. They must have had some time to talk in private before I hobbled out here. “Of our worst tendencies, and…hurting you.”
/>   “They were very vivid,” Montague said, poking his fork at his napkin. Of course he didn’t have food, just a table setting. “Very vivid.”

  “But they weren’t real,” Harris said. “They tried to make us think that the visions were conjured by our own minds, but they were not. Just illusion.”

  “Yeah…but we do worry about it,” Alec said, lifting a perfectly sized square of beef to my mouth. I rolled my eyes but I ate it. “Monty and I know that we could hurt someone.”

  “No,” Harris said. “I know that you won’t. Don’t fall for it.”

  “Well, let’s not spend any more time here than we have to,” Montague said. “We better start working on finding these girls tomorrow.”

  I hadn’t had much mental energy to think about my surroundings yet. Or maybe I was trying not to think about it. While the front of the Haven retained a certain level of luxury, this part? Pure horror movie. And part of the horror came from the inmates themselves. Er, patients. I mean, captives.

  We were sitting at a battered old table on metal chairs that were already making me cringe and wriggle my tortured ass around, trying to get comfortable. Brown metal lights dangled from the ceiling, looking like office lamps that had been dismantled and hung up to die slowly. The floors were made out of the same tile that lined the pool area in the front. I bet they just hose this room down when they want to clean it, I thought. Some things you know without being told.

  There were probably a hundred other witches and warlocks (with various other sorts of tainted blood) filling the room, some ancient and others barely old enough to consent to marry a faery. Some of them wore their own clothes, but a lot of them were wearing simple black robe-like garments and loose pants. The official uniform, I guess. Like, once your clothes wore out, that was it. You became part of the background noise, black-clad and weary and pale. This was not a cheerful place. People were lethargic, poking at their meals, and the worst cases were talking to themselves or wandering around aimlessly. One man was clutching what looked like a doll made out of a pillow case and a Sharpie.

  Is Ina in this room? Am I looking at her right now?

  I was nervous, glancing over the women, pausing over what might have been a familiar hair color or nose. But I just didn’t know and part of me was scared. She’s been here for so long…

  “Man, we’ve gotta pick the faery brides from some janky bitches,” Daisy said.

  Polly’s brow furrowed. She was there with us, but she seemed like she had finally learned to be quiet around the group. I felt bad for her. She was definitely getting more than she bargained for at this point, but she also wasn’t begging to leave.

  “Well, they look like they need a better life,” I said. “Hopefully it’ll be easy.”

  “How old can a faery bride be?” Polly asked.

  “Um…child-bearing age, I’m going to guess? We’ll worry about it tomorrow.” I was running out of steam for pretending I was okay. Alec noticed. He put the spoon down and very gently caressed my hair before sitting back in his chair and casually flexing his hands, making his arm muscles flex all the way up to his wide shoulders. I’m not even sure it was conscious, but I liked to think he was dreaming of beating up that witch.

  “Charlotte needs to get some rest,” he said.

  I got to my feet with Alec’s hands supporting me. Montague gathered up our trays to return to their spot by the trash cans. Harris was not gathering up anything or helping me up, just saying.

  Daisy gave me a hug. “Okay, get some rest—“

  “Ow!”

  “Oh my god, are you like really tortured?” she asked in a horrified whisper. “Like—they beat you?”

  “Why do you think Alec’s been feeding me?” I cried.

  “Well…I mean…” She gestured to Alec’s entire body. “I would exaggerate if I were you.”

  “I’m not exaggerating, Daisy, this is real! This is Outlander real.”

  “Oh.” Daisy looked around. “Oh no. They would really…hurt a Caruthers?” She bit her lip. “Okay, we’re going to get this done tomorrow. Eleven girls. Or peri-menopausal women. Something. I swear to you. I’m even going to be nice to Polly.”

  “Oh, please, I know the modern equivalent of a cut direct when I see one,” Polly said. “And I know you have adopted the manners of the Fixed Plane. We can continue to be cordial with each other in society, of course.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. Nice and cordial,” Daisy said, giving me a look like, she’s a gator shifter from Jacksonville, right?

  “I’m going to bed,” I said. “Y’all be nice.”

  I managed to make it out of the room and then I almost collapsed. I swear the pain was worse now than it was before. I really, really just wanted to cry, even though Harris was there and I hated crying in front of him.

  “Let me carry you,” Alec said. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Ohh…” I let him pick me up, even though I felt a little silly and his hand still brushed inflamed skin. I felt better being close to him and clung to his shirt. “I’m scared,” I whispered. “I still need to do some serious necromancy, and…I’m not sure…if I’m ready. Magic takes a lot out of a person. I don’t know what they’ll do to me tomorrow. What if…they break me?” I swallowed. “What if they already have? We’ve made it this far, but…today…I was just such a mess. I would have told that witch everything if she asked. I would have let you all down.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Montague said. “Not for being tortured. Good lord. None of us are prepared for that. Just get some rest and it’ll work out. We’re here with you.”

  But they couldn’t stay. I didn’t have Harris anymore. I had a tiny room with a single bed, the hall guarded, and none of them were allowed to follow me there.

  Of course, I wasn’t alone. As soon as I lowered myself to the bed, Firian was there for me. He still looked as pissed as when I last saw him, and I could tell that he’d just been brooding over his fury at what had happened to me this whole time.

  “Firian…”

  “I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Just rest up.”

  “Everything hurts…”

  He unzipped the hoodie and pulled it off my shoulders for me, handling me with the lightest touch until he had me stripped down to my underwear. I hardly recognized my own body, covered in red stripes and bruises. I made a little hiss of pain as I put my head on the pillow. Firian whispered spells like poems, running his fingers lightly over me, taking his time to focus on every separate area where I’d been struck until finally I caught his hand in mine and pulled it around me.

  “Okay,” I murmured, descending into needed sleep. “Just hold me now.”

  His arm was a protective embrace through the night, his body like an extension of my own, and I slept soundly until morning, when I was awakened by a pounding on my door, ordered out of bed, and dragged back to that same room, with that same witch, who looked approvingly over my skin and said, “You heal up so fast. Your familiar takes good care of you, doesn’t he? You must treasure him, always…” She tested the length of a strap between her hands.

  “No…” I sobbed. She came closer. “No!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Harris

  They were breaking my girl down.

  This was the girl who never stopped fighting me, trying to best me and prove herself at every turn, always quick with a retort to match mine. This was the girl who wasn’t intimidated by the werewolf spirit of her mom, demon summoning, ghosts, a vampire clan, the Withered Lord, Daisy at her bitchiest, or Alec’s unnecessarily large dick.

  She was the girl for me and they were going to destroy her and there was nothing we could do.

  When do you admit defeat?

  Days passed. The witch knew when to hold back so Charlotte could still walk and eat. They wouldn’t feed her in her rooms, or let us go to her in bed, so the only way to get any sustenance in her body was for her to go to the cafeteria and eat with us, trying to put on her best brave f
ace. Days went by, and then a full week. She wouldn’t even tell us what they were doing to her, but Firian knew.

  “Ice,” he said. “Burns. Lots of beatings. The other day the witch brought in her yoga tape and told her to work her way through it. They must have got it out of her dorm room or something. That might have been the worst of all because that tape was her anchor to her mom all those years, and, you know. Yoga is torture. I don’t know why she subjects herself to it willingly, much less when she’s already exhausted and in pain. Still, if she would just say the word, they would put me through the pain instead. But she won’t.”

  “I think I would kill that witch if I had to watch,” Montague said. “You need to insist.”

  “I wish I could,” Firian said. “But they won’t let me insist. She’s in control. And killing her wouldn’t make things any better for Charlotte.”

  “We can’t escape with her,” Alec said. “There are just too many guards with too much magic. But something’s gotta give.”

  “That vision they subjected us to, of us hurting her with our own nature? They’re going to make sure it comes true,” Montague said. “They’re shorting me on blood supply, Alec, I’m sure you’re horny enough to do something terrible, and Harris…you look like hell.”

  “They’re not giving me that medicine,” I said, dismissively. I was still so annoyed that I’d had to go and die. Now, without that medicine, my body would start to slip into more of an undead state. My hands and feet were always cold, my skin was white as a ghost and my energy levels were low. Hopefully craving brains wasn’t next. I had not really asked about the details of what happens when a necromancer drags you back from death.

  “What if we’ve…lost?” Alec said. “What if coming here was just a mistake, and there’s nothing we can do?”

  “Damnit,” Montague said. “We made it through so much shit together. I’m not giving up. Where is Charlotte’s aunt who’s here? Maybe if we found her…”