Raise the Dead

by C. C. Wood

  "Zoe, you haven't had a chance to discover more about your power yet, but I can tell you that you are stronger than all of them combined. You have magic that some witches only dream of."

  "Or that they're willing to kill for," I stated.

  "I will be there with you and I will help you in every possible way. But for all my knowledge and skill, even at full strength, I wouldn't be able to fight them all off. You can. Why do you think people like you were chased down and killed for so long? You present an enormous danger to a coven should you decide to come after them. That's also why Beatrix wants your magic. It would elevate her to nearly god-like power."

  "Essentially, you're telling me I have no other choice than to kill all the witches in her coven?"

  Angie shook her head. "Not everyone. The witches who don't want to be there will run as soon as they realize you can kill Beatrix. Or they will help you defeat her."

  "But we won't know until the fight begins?"

  "I can help you," Angie offered again.

  "I don't want to hurt innocent people."

  Her expression was serious. "I know. I don't either."

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes trying to calm my mind.

  "So the plan is to just show up and let Zoe do all the heavy lifting?" Stony asked from the front seat, his voice harsh.

  Angie turned toward him. "I'm not going to send her in there alone, Stony, but this will be a fight with power and spells. We'll need you and Blaine to help us get Jonelle and Mal out of the house, but Zoe and I will have to handle Beatrix and her followers."

  I could see that Stony didn't like that idea but he didn't say anything else. I wished I was smart enough to come up with a brilliant rescue plan in the fifteen minutes we had left to get to the coven house, but I wasn't. All I could do was try to control my panic and focus. Mal and Jonelle needed me.

  Stony and Blaine continued to discuss strategy as the van moved through quiet, dark streets. I listened to their words but still felt the weight of what was coming. Whether they liked it or not, or wanted to admit it, I was responsible for getting them out of there alive.

  I would gladly sacrifice myself to save them all.

  When the van stopped in front of the coven house, a strange sense of calm drifted over me. I had no choice but to succeed.

  "Let me go in first," Teri said behind me. "I can find out everything we need to know without the risk."

  I couldn't believe I'd forgotten that she was there.

  "She's got a good point," Angie said.

  I glanced back at Teri. "Be careful. We won't be able to wait for you to come back before we go inside."

  She nodded and disappeared. Her presence grew distant and I knew she was inside the house.

  "Ready?" Blaine asked me.

  No, no, I wasn't. But I unbuckled my seat belt anyway.

  "Let's go."

  We left the van and walked up the sidewalk toward the porch. As soon as my foot touched the bottom step, the front door slowly swung open. I hesitated a moment when I saw an empty space yawning behind it, but powered forward. I had no choice. Well, I did, but option two wasn't something I could live with.

  I would not abandon my friends to whatever horrors Beatrix had planned for them.

  Angie looked at Blaine and Stony. "You need to stay behind us. I know that your first instinct is to protect us, but in this instance, you can't. Don't get between us and Beatrix. You'll be in the line of fire."

  Blaine and Stony both looked grim and more than a little frightening. In the time I'd known them, they might bicker or even have a heated disagreement, but they never looked scary. At this moment, I didn't want to be on their bad side. Their expressions were intimidating.

  Neither of them argued with Angie. They positioned themselves behind us and somehow it made me feel better. They had my back. Literally.

  We entered the house and a slight breeze tugged at my clothes, blowing down the hallway we'd walked through during our first visit here. Instinctively, I understood that we were supposed to go down to the stone basement. It made sense that Beatrix would want to have this confrontation downstairs. It was the seat of her power. The center of her coven.

  As we walked down the stairs to the basement, my skin began to tingle. Magic was thick in the air, almost tangible against my body. It filled the space, huge and ominous. I understood then what Angie meant when she talked about feeling Beatrix's magic. It was so deep and dark that I couldn't fathom it. It felt unnatural. Being surrounded by it hurt. It nipped at my skin as though it was hungry for what I carried inside me. How had she managed to hide this from us?

  We descended the stairs and I put myself in front of the rest of them. I would stand between this darkness and my friends. No matter what happened, I would protect them.

  All the furniture that had once been in the room was gone. Against the walls on each side of the room, witches stood in hooded black robes. Utterly motionless. There weren't as many as I expected, maybe a dozen, but the power that reached out to me was as tainted as Beatrix's. Their heads were bowed so the deep shadows of the hoods hid their faces. Their hands were in front of them, tucked into the sleeves of the robes so that they weren't visible.

  At the end of the cavernous room, on a dais, stood a throne. It was huge and appeared carved from a single thick tree. Figures seemed to writhe on the wood as though the carvings had come to life. Ruby eyes sparkled beneath the torchlight. And there sat Beatrix, perched on that throne, a black circlet on her brow. It was the same material as the ring she wore on her finger and it absorbed any light that hit it. There wasn't a hint of shine or sparkle. Only the deepest, darkest black.

  Rafe stood on one side of Beatrix and Jezebel on the other. They both wore black robes, but their hoods were thrown back so their faces were visible. Jezebel no longer looked like the perky co-ed with a bouncy blonde ponytail. Her hair was pulled back in a braid and her eyes were as cold as shards of ice.

  I realized I was seeing her true face.

  No longer wearing his sunglasses, Rafe's pale eyes were hard as well, but they burned with white-hot fire. I could sense his magic swirling around him like a maelstrom and it was fierce and hot. Jezebel was a blade, but Rafe was a dragon. He wouldn't hesitate to breathe fire. There was no mercy to be had in this place. All that waited here was pain and death.

  Beatrix rose and her black dress slithered across the throne. It sounded like the scales of a snake slithering against a rock and it was so reminiscent of what I'd heard in my visions of Death that chills broke out on my skin. I nearly gasped when several pairs of the ruby eyes embedded in the throne blinked.

  The material of the dress was a mixture of thin fabric and shimmering onyx stones. It looked like it was carved from black gems and it glittered in the candlelight with each of her movements.

  As she came forward, I heard the scrape of steps against stone as a group of people came out from behind the dais. There were six of them, all men and all tall and broad, heavy with muscle.

  And they were just like the giant that had kidnapped me yesterday. Their eyes glowed white and their skin was mottled with grey and purple.

  Something clicked inside my head and the room flared with colors. I could see the peculiar grey aura that surrounded the six men and the vibrant red that surrounded Rafe, but there was darkness within it, thick streaks of black that told me his magic was tainted. Jezebel's aura was a toxic yellow shot through with threads of black as well.

  And Beatrix...there was no light around her, just a roiling, shimmering darkness that gleamed like an oil slick.

  She was poison, deadly and insidious.

  "Welcome to the true Fury coven," Beatrix said, her gorgeous voice filling the room. It was infused with pure power that made my teeth rattle in my skull.

  I inclined my head toward her but didn't unleash my magic. Angie had taught me how to hide the true depth of my power as well. I was not as talented as Beatrix, but I had enough skill to give me the element of su
rprise. "If you wanted to speak to me, you should have invited me. Kidnapping was unnecessary and upsetting."

  Beatrix smirked and I felt anger spike within me. She was convinced she had the upper hand. "I wanted to be certain you would accept," she replied.

  "Gloating is unattractive."

  At my words, her face darkened. "You won't have to suffer it for long." She glanced back at Rafe. "Bring out her friends," she commanded.

  He disappeared behind the throne and I took the opportunity to study the men standing in front of the dais. They didn't move, not a single twitch, not even a breath. The mucky grey light that surrounded them was the color of ashes. They weren't alive. They were puppets and Beatrix was their master. Zombies in the thrall of their queen.

  I lifted my gaze to the sorceress in front of me. I knew that her positioning was intentional. She wanted to hammer home that she was above me, that she was stronger. As I stared at her, I could see the extent of her power. It was vast, yes. Even frightening.

  But I had seen something even more terrifying. Death was my forefather and his blood ran through my veins, diluted but still there. It was tempting to drop my shields and let my own magic spread around me, just to see the expression on her face when she realized what she faced.

  Patience.

  It was Adrian in my mind, the voice of Death itself.

  "Once I have your power, your friends will be free to go," Beatrix said.

  My gaze collided with hers. "Don't lie to me. I know exactly what you plan to do."

  For a moment she was taken aback by my words, then she laughed. "You're more perceptive than you look."

  "And you are very confident in your abilities," I retorted.

  "I have a right to be. I have earned every drop of power I have through blood and death." She gestured toward the men.

  "You mean you stole it," I shot back, gesturing to the group of men in front of the dais. "You've stolen their magic and their lives. You deserve to burn in Hell for what you've done. Do no harm, remember?"

  Beatrix threw her head back and laughed. The sight made my ire rise even higher. On the way here, I knew I would probably have to take her life to save my friends. I hadn't been sure I could do it, but now that doubt was trickling away. She'd killed at least seven men and had no regrets about it. She was laughing about it.

  There was a shift deep inside me, as though a door opened in my very soul. The same door I'd felt the night I'd nearly raised an entire cemetery full of graves. A strange feeling flooded me, hot at first but chilling my skin. I trembled as it rushed through my chest, down my arms and legs, and up to my scalp. I glanced down, expecting to see steam rising from my flesh, but it looked normal.

  "To reach the pinnacle of our strength, sometimes it's necessary to make sacrifices," Beatrix said, her words thick with condescension.

  I glared up at her. "And what sacrifice have you made, Beatrix? You haven't given your blood or your life. You've taken it from others. You have no right to the magic you have. It was never yours to begin with."

  Beatrix shook her head. "You are still young, Zoe. I regret that you won't have a chance to fully understand, but as I said, sometimes sacrifice is necessary."

  "You speak as though you have some elevated knowledge, as though you are a benevolent goddess, but you have an adder's tongue," Angie said, speaking for the first time since we'd entered the house. "You whisper deception that only you and your twisted followers believe. You spread taint and evil like a bacteria."

  "You are still as childish as you have always been," Beatrix replied. A shadow of anger crossed her face. "You have cost me in the past, but you will repay me today."

  Oh, yeah, she was going to kill every single one of us.

  Rafe reappeared, dragging several chains behind him. Mal and Jonelle came up onto the dais first, their hands and feet wrapped in shackles. I could see sparks of magic rising from the metal and knew they were bespelled. Their faces were vacant. No one lived behind their eyes.

  Then Francesca stumbled up the stairs, also chained. Every line of her body conveyed defeat. Her skin was sallow and her cheekbones sunken, as though she'd lost another ten pounds in the hour since we'd last seen her.

  She tripped and nearly fell, but small hands grabbed her elbows from behind. Francesca shifted and I saw Selene standing behind her. She was shorter than I expected and fine-boned. Yet her posture was straight, almost rigid, as though she were holding herself together by will alone.

  Considering everything she'd been through in the past days and weeks, she probably was.

  Selene turned her head and our eyes met. Her gaze told me everything I needed to know. Francesca's actions were those of a desperate mother rather than an accomplice to Beatrix. I couldn't even be angry with Selene's mother. I could understand why she had done what she had. Love and desperation could drive a person to do things they never imagined.

  Beatrix snapped her fingers and the six men in front of us moved. They turned toward the dais and reached beneath. The loud screech of wood against stone echoed throughout the chamber and they dragged a huge table out. A pentagram was carved into the top of the table. There were chains attached to each corner that ended in a shackle.

  It wasn't a table. It was a sacrificial altar.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I studied the dark stains on the wood. I knew, without a doubt, that they were remnants of blood.

  "You know what will happen if you resist," Beatrix said.

  I lifted my eyes to her. "But you'll do it anyway."

  "What if I release them right now?" she asked.

  "Then I'll climb on the table willingly."

  She cocked her head and studied me, like a bird of prey examining a mouse. Then she looked at Rafe.

  She didn't say anything or make any other sort of motion, but it must have been a signal.

  Rafe grabbed Mal by the back of his neck, kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel, and withdrew a dagger from behind his back. Without a single word or blink, he stabbed the blade home into Mal's chest.

  Chapter Twenty

  An unearthly scream filled the room and everyone cowered at the sound. It swelled with grief, anger, and wild magic. I didn't realize it was my voice until I stopped screaming.

  I don't know how I did it, but I crossed over to the dais and vaulted on top of it. I crawled to Mal, tears streaming down my cheeks. Each sob was ripped from my chest.

  "Mal, Mal," I cried.

  He gasped, the sound harsh and wet. I knelt over him and tried to put pressure on the wound, but I knew it was no use. I could see the light around him fading, his life ebbing away.

  He looked up at me and I saw the knowledge in his eyes. He understood that he was dying.

  "Get out, Zoe. Do whatever you have to do to escape. Don't give in," Mal whispered.

  "I won't. Please don't leave me. I love you."

  He lifted a hand and touched my cheek. "Never. I love you, too."

  His hand fell to his stomach and he sucked in more air, but it rattled in his chest. I heard a scuffle behind me and a male groan followed by a thud, but I couldn't bring myself to look around.

  "You have to let me go," Mal rasped.

  "I can't."

  My back went rigid as Mal exhaled one last time and went limp in my arms. The life seeped out of him as the light surrounding him faded away.

  I could feel his soul clinging to his body and I reached for it. I couldn't let him go. I needed him. But I couldn't hold on. He was slipping through my fingers and there was nothing I could do about it. I wailed, holding his body against mine. He was so heavy. My arms could no longer lift him and I laid him back on the floor.

  Beatrix's voice pierced the veil of grief that shrouded me. "You couldn't stop his death," she said. "But you can save your friend, Jonelle. And your pet ghost."

  I twisted my head and looked at Beatrix. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. "You trapped Teri?"

  Her eyes glittered with triumph. "I did. And I
have her caged now."

  Where pain filled me moments before, fury replaced it. Magic swelled within me, rising and expanding until I was brimming with it. I'd thought that Beatrix's power was fathomless but now I understood it wasn't. It was only a drop in the well of magic that Death had gifted me with.

  Gently, I released Mal's lifeless body and faced her. Light speared the room, shining brighter and brighter. I looked down at my arms and hands and saw the symbols glowing in my skin, the lines curving and flowing like molten silver.

  It is time.

  Adrian's voice boomed not only in my mind but throughout the basement. Someone screamed and I heard feet scurrying across the stone floor.

  Standing in the brilliant light as though it was a spotlight, Beatrix smiled. "There you are. I knew the unveiling of your power would be incredible. And it is. But you will give it to me or your friend will die."

  Rafe grabbed Jonelle and dragged her toward the center of the dais, the dagger at her throat. Mal's blood still stained the blade. The sight of it stoked the fire of my rage even higher. I would not let him hurt another one of my friends. Perhaps I truly was Death's daughter because I wanted to use my magic to hurt someone. To kill even. He'd murdered Mal and I knew he would do the same to Jonelle without flinching.

  Unfortunately, he underestimated my friend. She might be an untrained witch, but she'd taken more than a few self-defense classes. The blank look she wore vanished from her eyes. Somehow, she'd escaped the magic of the chains. Though her hands were bound together, she grabbed his wrist as she stomped hard on his instep with her wedge sandal. I heard the crunch of bones and Rafe cried out. Jonelle kept a tight hold on his wrist, twisted around, and landed a solid kick to his gut.

  He stumbled back, dropping the knife, and Stony appeared between Jonelle and Rafe. He swung and his fist landed on Rafe's jaw with a thud. The other man went down hard. Without hesitating, Stony whirled, grabbed Jonelle, threw her over his shoulder, and leaped off the dais. Francesca wrapped her daughter in her arms and they ran down the steps at the back of the platform.