by Kiersten Fay
Meeka was exceptionally tolerant as Preston wrapped his arms around her little body and awkwardly lifted her in order to relocate her a few feet away to a spot he deemed more suitable for petting.
Cora watched with a generously lighter heart than before. Finally things were looking up.
Suddenly Meeka paused and hissed at something behind Cora. In a flash, she transformed into her larger, prehistoric-looking form that sent the children screaming and running to hide behind Cora.
Oz grated out a curse and jumped back, his wide eyes on the new creature before him.
Cora glanced at the threat Meeka indicated. Trent was on his way back, followed by Bray. At seeing Meeka they halted, taking a stance as if to attack.
“It’s okay.” Cora rushed to place herself in front of Meeka. “She’s my familiar.”
The three men reared back, incredulous.
Attempting to calm Meeka, she lightly scratched behind her massive ears. Meek sat and turned her head into Cora’s touch, but she remained tense. Was it the approach of two strange vampires that had alarmed her? Or just one in particular?
Realization punched Cora in the chest. Trent and Bray had returned alone. “Where’s Mace? What’s happened? What did you find?” She feared the worst.
“No one’s inside,” Trent announced, not taking his eyes from Meeka. In fact, everyone was riveted—mostly to her six inch dagger-like fangs.
“What do you mean no one’s inside?” she said.
“The place is empty,” Bray replied, seeming somewhat calmer than the others, but only a fraction.
“What about the underground—”
“We checked. No sign of anyone.”
“But it’s huge down there. And that’s where Knox trapped Mace before. They must be in there.” Her gut tightened with worry. She wanted so badly to run inside and see for herself.
Bray cautiously approached, warily eyeing Meeka. Meeka cocked her head, ears perked up with curiosity as she followed him with an intense gaze.
He turned a mitigating expression on Cora. “Perhaps they’re in town. Or out searching for you.”
She shook her head. “If that were the case, Mace would be answering his phone. He wouldn’t be responding to Trent with such placid, detached texts. Knox has him incapacitated somewhere. I’m sure of it.”
“Why don’t you just scry for them?” Oz asked Cora. “You’re a witch aren’t you? Isn’t that what witches do?”
“I…” Cora blushed. “I don’t know how. I haven’t exactly learned how to use magic yet. At least not well.” Derisively, she added, “I’m surprised that’s not in my file too.”
Trent shot a glare at Oz, then returned to the subject at hand. “What of that other witch you mentioned? Saraphine? Could she scry for them?”
“Saraphine could probably do it, but I doubt she’d be eager to help.”
Trent’s grin sent chills over Cora’s spine. “I can be very persuasive.”
One short helicopter ride later, followed by a brief hike, Cora, Bray, and Trent reached the edge of town. Oz volunteered to remain behind with the children. Cora insisted Meeka stay as well, mostly for the children’s protection, but she didn’t say that aloud. No one argued as long as Meeka remained in her kitten form. It had taken a few minutes, but eventually everyone had warmed up to Meeka. Of course, only after she had returned to her innocuous manifestation.
“She’ll probably be combative and terse,” Cora warned, referring to Saraphine as the three of them crossed a street. “She and I don’t have the best relationship right now.” That could be considered an understatement, but maybe Saraphine had cooled off since their last meeting. “She might not respond well to threats.” The latter was directed toward Trent. “So it might be best if I do the talking. Just let me handle it.”
She could practically feel Trent’s eye roll.
As they turned the corner onto Saraphine’s block, a strange sensation plumed around her, so potent, her steps faltered. It was a mix between exhaustion, hunger, and despair.
“You alright?” Bray steadied her with a firm grip on her elbow.
“I’m not sure.” She mentally examined the anomaly that shimmied over her skin with unrelenting persistence. She battled a sudden bout of dizziness and nausea. Then came a shadow of unadulterated misery and agony.
She glanced up at Bray, half expecting him to double over in pain—everything that bombarded her now had an aftertaste of the dark bond—but he seemed strong and healthy as ever.
Something down the road drew her attention and everything else faded into the background. She zeroed in on a familiar vehicle with bullet holes along the trunk and a smashed out back window. It sat across the street from Wicked Wares.
“Goddess!”
Trent and Bray jumped at her outburst.
“They’re here!” She pointed. “That’s the car Mace and I borrowed from Cortez.”
Bray grimaced at the sedan. “My brother lent you that junker? He used to have better taste than that. And manners.”
“It was a whole car before we got a hold of it.” At his look she sighed, “Long story.” Then she hurried down the side walk.
The bell above the door to Wicked Wares jingled with authority as she burst inside.
Saraphine was sitting with her outstretched legs crossed atop the counter, her heavy black booted heels on display while she perused the pages of an old tattered magazine.
She glanced up. The magazine fell from her grip as she clamored to stand. Her mouth dropped opened as if to speak, but no words emerged.
Trent and Bray entered behind Cora, surveying the shop with the natural mien of law enforcement.
Cora glanced around as well, not seeing Mace or Knox. Without asking permission, she rushed to the backroom.
Empty?
Returning to the front, she demanded of Saraphine, “Where is he?”
“Huh?” Her eyes darted, on the verge of panic. “W-Who?”
“Mace,” Cora cried. “Where is Mace?”
“How should I know?” Saraphine set her shoulders in confidence, but there was a false note in her tone, and Cora wasn’t the only one to hear it. Bray and Trent shared a look.
“I know he’s here,” Cora replied. “They’re both here. We saw the car out front.”
Saraphine paled. “That thing broke down out front a few weeks ago. Been there ever since. I have no idea where Mace is, let alone that murdering bastard.”
She was lying! Straight to my face!
It wasn’t difficult to surmise what Saraphine was up to. And why Mace had never come looking for her.
Something dangerous flashed behind Trent’s eyes, which were trained on Saraphine. He appeared to be coming to the same conclusion…and he could be very persuasive. Cora held up a halting hand, hoping Trent would give her time to convince Saraphine to come clean before he did…whatever it was he was thinking of doing.
She turned to Saraphine. “You have no idea what’s been happening. What I’ve been through.” She spurred the urgency in her voice. “Or what will happen if you don’t take me to Mace right now.”
Saraphine hesitated, eyeing the two vampires. Her voice lost much of its confidence. “I told you, I don’t…”
“I can feel them,” Cora informed her.
Saraphine closed her mouth, her eyes darting once more. Cora could sense the building of power. Of magic.
“Sara,” she warned, “don’t—”
Raising her hands, Saraphine blasted a stream of power towards Cora. The attack pounded anger through her every cell, clearing her mind of all else and making her quick to react.
She lifted her arms to block the onslaught and planted her feet—as she had witness Saraphine do when Sadira had attacked her.
The force of Saraphine’s power pushed her back like the ramming of a bull, but, amazingly, Cora managed to keep her stance. Magic curled around her, the pressure growing immense. She couldn’t keep up her visceral shield much longer.
As suddenly as it had started, the siege was over. Bray had Sara in a chokehold, her feet dangling several feet off the ground. His expression was murderous while she scratched at his grip, thrashing and gasping for air.
Cora caught her breath. “Bray, let her down.”
He looked as though he was ready to snap her neck. As pissed as she was, they needed Saraphine alive and cooperative.
His fangs protruded, bared in a silent snarl. At length, he eased Sara to the floor, letting up in his grip, but only enough so that she could breathe once more.
“Try that again,” Bray warned, “and I’ll have your head.”
Cora had never heard him sound so menacing.
Oddly enough, Trent had remained where he was, hadn’t even moved an inch in her defense. He’d merely watched the scene unfold with seemingly detached interest.
At her look, he stressed, “You said you wanted to handle it.”
Ire mixed in her already fuming brain. She faced Saraphine, who still wore Bray’s thick bicep around her neck.
“I’m not fucking around, Sara,” Cora hissed. “This isn’t a game. A man’s life is at stake.”
“You mean a vampire’s life is at stake,” Saraphine hissed back.
Cora’s brow arched. “You know, don’t you? You know that Mace has been cursed and that he could be dying.”
Saraphine clamped her lips shut, appearing annoyed at her slip.
Outrage stewed with irritation, creating a special blend of fury. Through gritted teeth, she commanded, “You will take me to him now.”
Saraphine stubbornly averted her gaze, setting her jaw.
Patience gone, Cora recognized that spark inside of her flaring to life in a violent conjuring of rage that engulfed her faster than she could anticipate. There was no suppressing it.
A deluge of wild witchcraft bubbled like a carbonated beverage that had been shaken to the point of combustion. Uncontainable and unmanageable, the torrent broke free, manifesting through a glitter of lightning that cocooned her in a warm, crackling embrace. She might have enjoyed it if she wasn’t so terrified of what was about to happen.
Yet this was just a warning of the coming explosion. She had never imagined something so laden, so predominant lived within her. Something so great, she had no idea how she would ever control it.
Trent was visibly uneasy, backing away, but Bray looked upon her with unmarked admiration. Why did he have such trust in her macabre powers?
As if acting on its own authority, the magic swept upward, then out, filling the entire room before landing with a heavy whoosh. The compression ricocheted off the walls, punching the breath from Cora’s lungs.
The hardwood floor rumbled and rippled under her feet, sending her to her knees. The others went down as well.
While they all grappled for breath, discovering the air was precariously lacking oxygen. Small glass trinkets around them shattered at random intervals. Objects tumbled from shelves.
Just as panic readied to set in, the power dissipated to the point where Cora was able to swallow a gulp of life-giving air.
And yet the ground remained unstable.
“Stop it!” Saraphine shouted over the noise. “You’ll bring the entire building down!”
Cora wasn’t sure she could stop it. Still, she wasn’t averse to taking advantage of the unexpected leverage. “Take me to Mace!”
“Fine! Just stop destroying my grandmother’s shop!”
Cora glanced around, horrified by the destruction.
The rumbling lasted a moment longer before a tense calm settled over the room. Cora got the sense that the perilous magic had spent on its own, but wouldn’t dare admit to that.
She pushed to her feet and straightened her shoulders, staring expectantly at Saraphine.
Rigid and indignant, Saraphine stood and grudgingly lumbered to the back room with Cora, Bray, and Trent in tow.
“You alright?” she asked Bray.
His arms enveloped her waist as he brought her in for a quick, yet scorching kiss. “You are magnificent.”
Trent studied him with a curious eye, then huffed, “Yeah, right. Magnificent. Don’t ever do that again.”
Saraphine crossed to the oversized fireplace where a large caldron hung over a pile of dead coals. She hesitated, then sidled behind the caldron. Her hand reached for something on her left, but it was hidden within the alcove, out of Cora’s sight. The sound of stones grinding against one another drew Cora closer. Within the firebox, the right wall shifted forward, swinging outward to reveal a winding stone staircase.
A hidden passage? Just like in the cottage.
She realized the wars and uprisings over the last hundred years had made these underground rooms more common than she’d realized.
Without a word, Saraphine descended the stairs, disappearing into darkness.
Cloaking her reluctance, Cora trailed after her with Bray and Trent just behind. Though her eyes fought to adjust to the darkness, she could tell the landing was a sold stone floor that matched the windowless walls. Something to her right glowed orange.
The stench of damp earth coupled with rusting metal created a hauntingly familiar stench.
Apprehension itched unpleasantly up her spine. Mentally, she flashed back to the doctor’s laboratory-dungeon and had to battle a wave of choking claustrophobia. Her agitation pushed her back a step. Bray’s strong chest blocked her escape. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she could sense his own unrest.
“They’re here,” he informed her.
She was reminded that vampires could easily see through such darkness.
The rustling of fabric caught her attention.
“Heh,” a roughened, dreary voice sounded from the dark. “Never thought I’d see you again, Coraline.”
Knox!
In the next instant, a brilliant flame ignited from the end of a torch that was nested on the far wall. Next to it, Saraphine extinguished the magic spark in her palm and faced them, almost contrite, but Cora was no longer bothered with her.
Mace lay on his back, unmoving, behind a line of metal bars.
A prison cell.
Chapter 36
“Mace!” Cora cried, rushing forward.
Mace didn’t respond. His eyes were closed yet his expression was pained, and the glyphs at his neck were glowing a bright orange whereas before they had been blue and green. Somehow, she didn’t think the change in color boded well for him.
A few feet away, Knox rested against the back wall, his arm slung over one knee. Though his expression projected indifference to his situation, he appeared haggard, and through the bond, weary.
“He’s been out cold for a few days straight,” Knox announced in a scratchy voice. “Probably would have died if I hadn’t—” His squinting gaze snapped to Bray. “Fuck me, I’m still sleeping.” He jerked his chin back at Cora. “This is about the time you start stripping.”
Cora ignored him for the moment. “Saraphine, you open this cage right now!”
Saraphine’s lips thinned into a stubborn line. She crossed her arms. “Knox stays till my coven can assemble his trial.”
Even if Cora was all for that plan, there was no way Trent would allow it. Frustrated, she gripped the cell door and shook it. Metal clanged just before a powerful blast of magic sent shock waves along her arms, skewering her flesh. She ripped away in pain and glanced down. There was no visible damage. Yet an echo of pain lingered.
Saraphine’s lips curved in a triumphant smile. “It’s protected by my magic. Anyone who tries to open that door will be filled with a thousand volts of mystical electricity, and the longer you try, the stronger it gets. And…” she added quickly as Trent advanced on her, “if I die, you’ll never be able to get them out. The spell will seal forever.”
Trent halted, glowering, yet clearly plotting his next move. “There are things worse than death, girl. And all of them will prompt you to open this door.”
Trepidation cracked a bit of Sarap
hine’s bold visage.
Cora jumped in, “Sara, don’t be so stubborn. I’ve promised you that if Knox is guilty, he will pay. I’ll hold true to that, so would Mace, but I’m not leaving here without both of them.”
Mace needed her most of all—was more important by far—but so did Knox. She felt it in her soul…through the bond. So strongly that she was unable to deny it, even mentally. She wouldn’t entertain the idea of leaving him here in this dank dungeon, perpetually hungry, suffering.
As she and Bray had suffered.
Plus, there was an irrefutable awareness creeping over her scalp. Something buried deep within her that was forcing itself to the forefront. Something that felt more animal than human.
Knox is mine.
Cora slapped the thought from her mind. They were bonded, he need her blood, nothing more. She wanted to help him because he saved her life once. That wall all.
Unfortunately, Saraphine had made up her mind. By the angle of her upturned jaw, it really would take a monstrous session with Trent to persuade her.
As options go, that course of action would haunt Cora forever.
Perhaps there was another way.
Decidedly, Cora turned toward the cell door and warned Bray and Trent, “You should probably stand back.”
She didn’t know if this would work. She just hoped her magic measured up to Saraphine’s, and that she could hold out.
This couldn’t be worse than the doctor’s torturous injections, could it? Or the elixir used to unbind her magic.
Mustering all her nerve, she gripped the bars and began the same incantation she’d used on her and Bray’s ropes.
Instantly, Saraphine’s spell rebelled. Pain sliced up Cora’s arms.
It did nothing to dissuade her. Her voice rang loud with the words she hoped would disintegrate the bars.
In defense, the pain intensified, licking up her arms to her collarbone. An electrical charge seemed to wrap around her neck as though she were wearing a live wire. Invisible fire found the tips of her fingers, her palms, straight to her very bones. The sensation of flesh peeling away from her fingers made her gasp and almost pulled her hands away. The falter was only slight. She worked to keep her voice strong and steady.