Aislinn wasn't entirely certain she believed that was their true motivation, but at the moment, she had more pressing concerns—particularly the one at her windpipe. Making matters worse, Lisa started chanting, and judging by the first few words alone, Aislinn knew she was about to be hexed.
But even more disconcerting was the knowledge that the source of her suffocation had nothing to do with their magic. Instead, there was a separate entity present—a spirit—one with malevolent intent who'd reached into the material plane from Limbo. Not only could she sense it, but the previously flickering lights were a clear indication of a spirit's arrival.
The entity may have been under Cindy's or Lisa's control, but whatever the case, it was strong, too strong for the blessed rose pendant around her neck to thwart its hold on her.
Furthermore, the contact was draining Aislinn, leaving her with no real way of defending herself from whatever magic Lisa was conjuring. So her only recourse was to head into her storage room to grab a rune that could exorcise and protect from evil spirits before it was too late.
But she never made it that far. After only two steps, the lack of air brought her to her knees, forcing her into a crawl. Still, if that was the only way, Aislinn wasn't giving up, trying to calm herself so the urge to inhale wouldn't be as pressing, and slowly worked her way into the storage room.
However, the cabinet housing the rune she needed was on the far wall, and already, her shop was humming with magical energy.
Lisa continued chanting, now with Cindy's help, and their power was growing as both witches slowly levitated off of the floor. Their eyes had turned white, and their voices echoed eerily over the woman they were directing their energy onto.
Aislinn desperately pushed on, jerking in shock when the bulbs in the light fixtures burst with loud pops and bright sparks, throwing the shop into darkness despite the overcast daylight outside. Magic swirled around her, stalking her, building in strength until she could feel it creeping into her body and settling like a stone.
Only then did the pressure leave her throat, allowing Aislinn to suck in a deep breath of air. But the relief of filling her lungs with oxygen was overwritten by an unending wave of utter agony consuming her entire body.
Aislinn cried out in response, collapsing onto the floor completely. At once, all of her muscles cramped up and her head pounded painfully, making it impossible to distinguish which part of her body hurt the worst. But as she writhed on the floor, she knew there was nothing she could do to ease it.
Through her pain, she vaguely perceived the witches behind her as one of them mused aloud, “I wonder how long she'll lay here?”
“No idea. But maybe we should leave her some aspirin, just in case?”
They both snickered over the joke, a sound that was followed by silence. Aislinn didn't even realize they were gone, unable to think of anything but the agony wracking her entire body. Her stomach churned, and a throbbing pain shot through her head that was so intense it blurred her vision.
The cause was a Poena Hex, the pain of which was purported to be excruciating, and if her current state of being was any indication, it definitely lived up to the claims.
But most importantly, she wouldn't be able to endure this kind of suffering for long. An immortal could withstand it, but not a human, leaving Aislinn with only a few hours at best before dying a slow, agonizing death.
She had no idea how long it would take, but the longer she spent in so much pain, the more she wished it would happen sooner rather than later. Every time she tried to push herself up, agony ripped through her arms like they'd been cut in half, making her cry out.
She needed someone to break the curse, and the phone was too far away when all she could do was lay on the floor, helplessly suffering with no concept of the hours ticking by.
Beep! … Beep!
It took Aislinn several moments to notice the sound, and a few more to realize it was her mobile phone ringing. Her mind was so numbed by the pain that she'd forgotten all about the device in her pocket, and started working to tug it out by instinct alone—an incredibly challenging task when all of her fingers were throbbing.
By the time the device landed on the floor next to her, the caller had given up. No matter. Aislinn would put in a call of her own, groaning lowly as she pressed the button for her phone book and yelled when a stabbing pain shot through her arm. Tears streamed down her cheeks, making it even more difficult to see the list of names.
But she didn't care who she called, as long as they brought aid.
Pressing a random key on the number pad and hitting talk, Aislinn desperately waited for an answer.
Chapter 22
Troy was becoming concerned.
Leaning on the railing that lined the front porch of the manor with his phone against his ear, he waited for Aislinn to pick up, and finally ended the call. It was well after one o'clock, and he'd figured she would've been done with work by then, but still hadn't heard from her, and the fact that she wasn't answering her phone didn't bode well with his instincts.
“What are you doing out here?”
Andi's question reached Troy just as he put his phone back into his pocket, then looked over to see his cousin shutting the front door before coming to stand next to him.
“Just waiting on Aislinn's call. She's coming over once she gets done with work,” he answered without mentioning his worries.
“Are we still going to Strange Brew?”
“Yeah, she just wants to see the work we've done on the manor first, and I told her you were interested in helping with the séance, too.”
Andi smirked. “Good. I've been wanting to go to her shop, I just thought it'd be a bad time right now with the two of you trying to get something going.”
Troy smirked, about to respond when his phone started ringing. Looking down, he saw Aislinn's name on the screen, remarking, “Guess she's finally done,” as he lifted the device to his ear. “Hey, took you long enough … ”
Troy trailed off, his smile fading as the relief her call provided was overwritten with an even stronger wave of concern in hearing a raspy intake of breath followed by a sharp gasp on the other end. “Aislinn?”
“H-help … ”
The faint sound of her voice chilled his blood. “Aislinn, what's wrong?”
Andi silently watched as he turned away from the railing, listening to more rasps followed by a sudden cry of pain that almost made him crush the phone in his hand.
“Aislinn!” What the hell's going on? Is someone hurting her?
“P-please … ,” came a weak sob. “Can't take … much more!”
Troy was already heading down the front porch steps before Aislinn could finish, spurred on by the sound of her voice alone, and barely took the time to notice that Andi was following close behind. “I'm on my way, do you hear me?”
Aislinn didn't answer, but he could still hear her panting and groaning as he climbed into his truck and started the engine. Andi got in on the passenger's side, finally querying, “What's wrong?”
“I don't know, she sounds like she's in pain and she's begging for help.”
Before Andi could fully shut her door, Troy tore away from the manor, driving as fast as possible to get on the road.
“Aislinn, are you still at Strange Brew?”
His tone was urgent, but she offered no answer, only another cry before whimpering, “I c-can't stand the pain!”
Troy would've asked again, but Aislinn didn't sound completely lucid. So his only option was to start looking at her shop, and he could've punched a hole into the floor of his vehicle with how heavily his foot weighed on the gas.
Determined, he said into the phone, “I'm coming baby, just hold on for me.”
It took fifteen minutes to reach Strange Brew, but it felt like an eternity had gone by, and once he'd parked, Troy immediately climbed out of his truck with Andi right behind him.
“Go to the alley and check upstairs,” he commanded, “break the
fucking door down if you have to. I'll search the shop.”
His cousin didn't argue, moving around the corner while he went through the front doors, somewhat surprised to find them unlocked. But though there wasn't a soul in sight, Aislinn's scent was strong—as was that of magic, tipping him off that they were dealing with something mystic in origin.
That's when the sound of a choked sob in his phone was echoed in the storage room, and Troy immediately headed into the back, pushing the curtain aside.
What he found there both enraged and confused him.
Aislinn lay on the floor, writhing in pain, and he rushed to her side, dropping his phone in favor of lifting her as gently as possible. But despite his best efforts, the contact nearly made her scream—her voice was simply too hoarse to get the full sound out.
“Don't touch me!” she wailed, and the tears streaming down her cheeks broke his heart.
“Gods, what the fuck happened!” He didn't see any blood, nor could he scent it, but she was acting as if seriously injured.
“Hexed,” Aislinn rasped. “Po-poena … h-hex.”
On the heels of her answer, Andi came through the front doors, calling, “Troy, did you find her?”
“She's in here,” he returned quickly.
His cousin swiftly stepped through the curtain, then crouched on Aislinn's opposing side, asking, “What's wrong with her? I smell magic.”
“She said she was hexed, called it … pony something or other.”
“Poena?” Andi suggested, sounding surprised.
“That's it.”
“Oh shit.”
Of all the responses he wanted to hear from his magic-practicing cousin, a bleak oh shit was not one of them, making Troy growl in demand, “What? What's a Poena Hex?”
Andi had already stood from her crouch and started searching the shelves of the storage room for supplies while explaining, “It's a curse of excruciating pain. Just touching her will hurt, and mortal's don't survive it for long, so it has to be broken. Ask her if she knows when she was hexed. I need a time frame to estimate how long she has.”
Hearing that mortals didn't survive this hex, Troy could barely process his cousin's request. But instinct kicked in, and he tried to get Aislinn's attention, though she was writhing so much that it was hard to do.
“Aislinn, how long ago were you hexed?”
She rasped a few words, none of which made any sense when put together, and Troy balled his fists to control his rage over her condition.
“Too … long,” she finally uttered, and he could detect her heart racing erratically with his sensitive hearing.
Fighting to keep himself calm as Andi brought a few items over, he asked his cousin urgently, “Do you know how to break it?”
“Yeah, but it'll take time to put together,” she responded, meeting his gaze to add pointedly, “and I'm pretty sure it's been too long for her to wait.”
Judging by her expression alone, Troy knew exactly what she was suggesting—he had to turn Aislinn if he wanted her to live.
Suddenly, her vision became all too clear. The marking could resurrect a dying mate, but Aislinn hadn't given him permission to turn her, leaving his only course of action as being out of the question.
“No! Just keep working, goddamn it!” Troy demanded. “If you need something, tell me to get it for you!”
Andi was shaking her head before he'd even finished, stating more explicitly, “She's dying, Troy! Listen to her heartbeat, it's too erratic! Even if you collect the things I need while I mix them, I won't be able to do this in time to save her!”
A sense of helplessness overwhelmed Troy. He trusted Andi's judgment, particularly in matters of magic, and he couldn't lose Aislinn, but he also couldn't turn her unwillingly and lose her trust—possibly for good.
Additionally, the situation wasn't at all up to par for marking a mate. He wanted to take Aislinn somewhere special so they could spend their bonding together in seclusion—not mark her in the storage room of her shop because she was dying.
But looking down at her mask of fatigued suffering, and listening to the sound of her fluttering heart and labored breathing, it was clear that she'd be gone at any moment, leaving him no choice.
If it meant her survival, Troy would rather mark her and make her hate him than risk watching her die so horribly.
Even before he'd consciously made up his mind, his eyes started glowing. Despite his desire to respect her wishes of consent, Troy had little control over his innate instinct to keep his mate safe, particularly when her suffering was tearing at his heart so violently.
He only hoped she'd understand that he had no choice, and would eventually forgive him.
Without resisting, Troy transformed, fangs sharpening while his shirt ripped against his growing size. Andi exited the storage room to offer them privacy, announcing her intent to keep working in the meantime.
Alone with his mate, Troy slowly climbed over her, hoping he could be gentle enough not to hurt her further as he pressed a clawed hand behind the small of her back. Still, she cried out in response, and there was nothing he could do to ease it, making him feel even more helpless than before.
As he drew in, her eyes opened and locked on his, and she gasped in seeing his ferine state, shaking her head as vigorously as possible.
“Have to,” he growled, leaning to her throat. “Can't … let you … die.”
A fist hit into his side, then another. Aislinn was fighting despite her pain, but he'd made up his mind, parting his lips at her neck to press his fangs against her soft flesh. I'll spend eternity making this up to her.
“No!” she cried, but Troy didn't listen. Instinct was urging him on, and he wouldn't be deterred, only wishing she could hear his apologetic thoughts as he finally pierced her throat with four sharp fangs, mercilessly clamping them down in a vicious bite.
Aislinn screamed, still hitting her fists into his sides as he held on tight. Blood dribbled down her neck, pooling on the floor while she sobbed and begged him to stop. But the sound of her slowing heartbeat was much louder than that of her pleas, feeding his determination.
“L-let me go!” she demanded weakly—and those were her last words.
A moment passed, and her fists fell to the floor, her breaths slowing until, finally, her heart stopped.
It took Troy several moments to release her throat from his bite, lifting his head to gaze down at her weary face, her blue eyes staring into nothingness. His mate was dead beneath him, and he clutched her body to his in shaking arms, trying to keep warmth in her until the marking returned her to life.
She's only transitioning, not actually dead. Though Troy repeated this in his mind again and again, his anger was too potent to be contained. Lifting his head, he released a loud, furious roar and made a single vow.
Whoever did this would pay with their lives.
~*~*~*~
-Where … am I?-
A blinding, white light encompassed Aislinn's vision, blurring everything out. Confusion wracked her mind while whispers sounded in the distance, unintelligible words spoken on fleeting tones.
-Is someone there?-
Though the whispers persisted, there was no response. But the bright light was also fading, clearing to unsaturated hues of fuzzy color with forms taking shape around her—a table, some chairs, then a few cabinets. The air, if it could even be called that, was thick and heavy.
Aislinn vaguely sensed movement nearby, but no one was there. Only those whispers sounded again, almost forming words this time, echoing as if from another place entirely.
“That should work … take her … she'll be out for a while so we'll need to...”
-Hello?-
The voices sounded familiar, but again, no response was offered. Yet Aislinn now recognized her surroundings—the storage room at Strange Brew, though it was different, or she was seeing it differently. Colors were muted, hazy, as if the objects in the room weren't actually there. It was also dark despite the s
ingle window shining a bright light in from outside, one that was far too luminous to see the street beyond it.
-Aislinn.-
The voice was low and scratchy, and wasn't heard so much as felt. She sensed a presence behind herself, and Aislinn tried to turn around to face the door leading out of the storage room. But she felt weighted and, at the same time, light as air, unable to accomplish the feat right away.
-Who's there?-
-You'll take me to it.-
-To what?-
The presence was unmoving, waiting to be acknowledged, and as if the world was turning around her, Aislinn managed to face it.
There, in the doorway, she was greeted by a woman's withered face, her body deathly thin with long, pale hair. Her empty, black eyes leered, and in spotting her, the light that had once blinded the outside world from view suddenly grew dark.
Without any forewarning, a shrill sounded as the woman rushed toward Aislinn in a movement so sudden it was blinding. Simultaneously, a sharp pain tore through her lower back, burning like a brand.
Then there was nothing …
Chapter 23
Awareness tingled along Aislinn's skin as she woke, but couldn't find the will to open her eyes. Lethargy had her in a grip so strong she didn't even care to do a mental check of her body.
Though, when the notion hit, she recalled the fact that she shouldn't have woken up at all, opening her eyes to find herself staring at a familiar vase of red roses sitting on top of a night-stand next to the bed where she lay. They were the same ones Troy bought several days ago, and she could even detect their scent despite being at least five feet away.
Additionally, a muscular arm was draped over her side, and somehow, she didn't need to look back to know it was Troy. His presence was familiar to her, comforting, and being cocooned with him in soft blankets made of dark red velvet and silk on an extremely comfortable king sized bed made it even harder to find the will to get up.
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