Blood Magic (Blood Magic Series Book 1)

by Ann Atkins

  “I’m sorry I can’t spare you from that, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,” she soothed.

  “Either way, I feel like it will be over soon,” I told her.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because the dreams are occurring more frequently now, and whether I like it or not I’m sure I’ll be at the grand finale; I just hope I’m wrong about how the story ends.”

  “You’re strong, Allison, and you’ll deal with it, either way.”

  I laughed. “I’m not dealing with it very well at the moment. I feel like I have one foot in each world, and I’m being ripped in half!”

  “You can handle these visions, Allie! You’re made for them! They are a part of you, and they aren’t meant to hurt you, only to help.”

  “How are they supposed to help me?” I asked.

  “When someone sees visions of the future, it’s usually to keep something bad from happening. But visions of the past are supposed to teach you something about yourself.”

  “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to be learning! How is what happened then relevant to now?” I demanded.

  “That is for you to discover on your own. They aren’t my dreams; they’re yours, but being able to see the past or the future can be equal parts blessing and curse.”

  “Are you being cryptic on purpose?”

  “No,” she laughed, “It’s just that the past is the past; it’s already happened and cannot be changed, only experienced and learned from. Seeing the future isn’t much better, because sometimes you can change it, and sometimes you can’t. Both abilities are extraordinary, but they can also be terrible,” she said sadly.

  “Thanks for the pep-talk,” I said sardonically.

  “You are missing the point, sweetheart. Although these powers can be a heavy burden, they only manifest in those capable of carrying their weight.”

  “You have a lot more faith in me than I have in myself.”

  “All of this is very new to you. Give yourself time,” she said gently.

  “Time is a luxury I can’t afford,” I said as I opened one of the books and started flipping through its pages.

  “Are you sure you feel up to this right now?”

  “Just as long as the monsters don’t claw their way out of the books and try to bite my face off, I’ll deal.”

  And I did. For the rest of the day, I learned more about these supernatural beasties than I’d ever wanted to know. And when night finally fell, I climbed into Mason’s bed instead of my own, because I had a feeling that when I woke, I wouldn’t want to be alone.

  Chapter Twenty- Three

  Sentenced

  A ragged cough tore through my body, and I shivered violently and uncontrollably. I wondered how my clothing could be soaked with perspiration when I was so cold. My body ached terribly with every cough and shiver, and I was lying in a pool of my own vomit, which was dried on my face and caked in my hair.

  The room smelled strongly of human excrement, and there was not a chamber pot or bathing tub in sight, only dirt and filth. My stomach heaved again, and I rolled onto my side, coming face to face with a large rat. I reached out a hand and swatted it away; there was a time it would have frightened me, but I now knew there were far worse things to fear than a mere rat.

  I was not alone in this desolate place, but I took no comfort in this; all it meant was that more innocent people would die. Some of the others wore shackles and were chained to the wall. I had worn them, too, when I was first brought here as evidenced by the raw, festering rings around my wrists and ankles, but I was no longer a threat, given my current condition.

  We were not given any food or water unless our families or we paid for it. Straw could be purchased as well, for sleeping, but what difference did a soft place to rest one’s head make in the bowels of Hell? Most of the people in here could not afford such things, but someone had gotten them for me. The only two people who would care enough to do that were my mother or Joshua. I loved them desperately, but I was fiercely determined not to prolong their suffering … or mine.

  I had not eaten in three days. I gave my food to those who could not afford it. I would rather die in here than give them the privilege of hanging me in front of the whole town … in front of my mother—in front of Joshua. A sob escaped from my dry, cracked lips at the thought of them, and in my mind, this was a far better solution. They would still lose me, but at least they would be spared from watching me die.

  I wasn’t sure how many days I had been here, but time no longer had any meaning to me. How many days had it been since I’d seen his face or smelled his skin or touched him? The month I had spent without seeing him paled in comparison to the fact that I would probably never see him again; that had been temporary, this would be permanent.

  I knew he still fought to get me out of here, just as he had fought to keep them from taking me that night. He had turned into a wild animal, hitting anyone who tried to lay a hand on me. Eventually, he had been outnumbered, overpowered, and restrained, but his struggles had never ceased. He would probably be in here, too, if not for Prudence. She had convinced the magistrate that he was under a powerful love spell and could not be blamed for his actions.

  She had also convinced them that I was causing her to hurt herself. I was trying to kill her in order to steal Joshua away from her. She said it had been happening for months, but she had been too afraid to say anything. I was the witch and she was an innocent victim. Her friends had not hesitated to back up her story, saying that I had afflicted them as well.

  They tried to make me confess to imaginary crimes that I had not committed, but it did not matter how many times they beat me; I would never confess to sins that were not my own. Shortly thereafter, I was dragged to this place, and I have been here ever since.

  Joshua came every day, shouting and trying to break down the door. He had severely beaten several guards, trying to get to me. He had tried sneaking in at night as well, but all of his attempts had been unsuccessful, and there had been many.

  I had not heard his voice in a long while, but I knew he had not given up. I would almost bet that he was being held prisoner as well, but not in the same sense as I. He would be held captive until I was dead, and the spell over him was broken. But as long as I was alive he would never stop, and eventually, he would be hurt or killed trying to save me; that’s why I have to die, it is the only way he can live.

  I am so weak that I barely have the energy to move, and my mind and body are nothing but instruments of torture. My mind refuses to think of anything but Joshua and how much I have lost, and my body knows nothing but pain; I am betrayed by them both.

  I drift in and out of consciousness, but it is not an escape. In sleep, I do nothing but relive the horror my life has become …

  I remembered being brought before the grand jury and interrogated for hours. They had tried, again, to coerce me into admitting that I was a witch. Asking me such questions as: Dost thou know what ails these girls? Are you afflicting them with witchcraft? Do you serve the devil? Does he command thee to hurt these children? Why does their suffering grow worse when thou art near? Why do you speak lies instead of truth?

  Unfortunately, the only truths they heard were in the lies being told, and they could not and would not be convinced otherwise.

  My accusers still claimed to have seen my specter around them when they were in pain, and the closer I was to them, the more they carried on. I was forced to lay hands on each one of them and take back the suffering I had caused. Of course, when I touched them, they stopped screaming, and this was seen as further proof of my guilt, but it was nothing compared with the pain and humiliation I suffered in the search for the witch’s teat.

  Magistrate Stoughton ordered me to be stripped of all clothing, and I had to stand naked in front of the whole room full of people. They were searching for a birthmark or mole that was not sensitive to touch. This would be the spot where the devil had suckled my blood and prove that I was in league w
ith him.

  I had been humiliated and angry and scared, but I had not cried; I would never let her see me cry. I was glad that Joshua had not been allowed inside the meeting hall; he would have killed them all.

  I had not tried to stop them from taking my clothes off, but not because I was weak or afraid. Prudence had come to see me the day after I was arrested; she had warned me that if I was uncooperative or tried to escape, she would have Joshua and my mother thrown in jail, too. I might have risked it if I only had myself to consider, but I would never risk their lives to spare mine, and she knew it.

  Two much older ladies were commissioned to administer the “test.” I was poked and prodded, endlessly, with sharp needles, and although I tried not to cry out, it was impossible. Tiny drops of blood covered my body where the needles had pierced my flesh, some of them going quite deep. Every mole on my entire body was stabbed with that needle, and it was a struggle not to let the tears that filled my eyes overflow.

  They had saved the birthmark on my hip for last. A tiny crescent moon shaped spot that looked almost red in color. I braced myself for the next, and hopefully last, prick of my skin. I held my breath, but the pain never came; I wondered why they were waiting so long, but when I looked down—I saw the needle poking my skin but not breaking it. For a moment, I did not understand what was happening, but then I noticed the needle had been turned to the dull side instead of the sharp side, and there was not nearly as much force behind the jab.

  I wanted to scream and yell in frustration, but it would have done no good. The room erupted into loud murmurs that all blended together, but I was able to make out the word “witch” several times. As far as everyone was concerned, my guilt had been proven beyond a shadow of doubt, so I was not surprised when I was sentenced to hang by the neck until dead.

  They had thrown me back in this cesspool after my conviction, and then, the only thing left to do was wait to die. But the joke was on them, because I hadn’t really been alive since I had been separated from him. I prayed that death rode a fast horse and hoped that Joshua was stronger than me, because I was asking the one thing of him that neither of us wanted to do … to live without the other.

  I woke up to find Mason writhing around and mumbling incoherently. I reached out to touch his face and found that it was wet with tears. I shook him gently and his eyes flew open wide. He looked sad and afraid; a look that I’m certain was mirrored on my face as well. I didn’t need to ask him what was wrong; I already knew.

  “You were there,” I said thickly, but it was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah … no … I don’t know,” he said as he reached over and turned the bedside lamp on.

  “How? How do I keep pulling you into my dreams … or nightmares, or whatever?”

  “It’s the intensity of your emotions. Allie, I can feel you when you’re upset or scared.”

  “Is it because my emotions are tied to my powers?”

  He didn’t answer, only nodded his head, as he ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I wanna be there for you when you need me,” he said as he lay back down and pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Yeah, well, there’s being there for me, and then there’s being trapped inside my warped brain,” I said, looking up at him.

  He laughed and kissed my forehead.

  “Why were you so upset?” I asked him.

  Silence was my only reply, but I waited, and after a few moments, he answered my question, but the answer was nothing like what I expected.

  “It felt like losing you. Do you realize how many times that has almost happened? The lake, the hag, the hounds, the incubus, the wraith, your father … it’s a long list.” He paused for a brief moment, and sighed, before continuing. “I understand Joshua’s pain, because I’ve felt it before, and everyday I worry that it won’t be enough, that no matter how much I fight to protect you … I’ll fail, and then that pain will become a living, breathing part of me.”

  The anguished look in his eyes caused me to catch my breath, and love for him burned stronger in me than it ever had before. “You won’t fail, and neither will I! We’ll chase the monsters away together, and I will never leave you.

  He held me tighter and kissed me hungrily, and I was every bit as desperate as he was. Our bodies strained toward each other, and the only way we could’ve been closer was if we were sharing skin. We were an undulating conflagration of arms, legs, and heat.

  Neither one of us was anxious to go back to sleep, and neither one of us could bear to let go of the other. That worked out well for the next couple of hours, but eventually, as it always does, sleep won out in the end.

  Public hangings had always seemed rather obscene to me, yet the whole town was usually present, as if it were a celebration rather than the ending of a life. I had never been in attendance at such a spectacle; the suffering of those poor souls was a source of entertainment or amusement to some; it merely made me sick, but I knew I would be there for the next one; I would be a part of the show.

  If I was still alive by then, I prayed that Joshua and my mother would not attend; I could not bear the thought of them seeing me like that. I imagined my lifeless body hanging from the branches of a locust tree on Gallows Hill, and a lump formed in my throat. I really did not want to die, but I could see no way of escape. Even if Joshua and I were able to flee this town before I was hung, what would become of my mother? I already knew the answer to that question; Prudence had explained it in vivid detail, and I would not abandon her to this fate. I hoped that someday he would be able to forgive me, but I doubted it.

  I knew he wanted me to fight, and he would never understand why I had given up so easily. I was allowing the tiny spark of life that was left inside me to be extinguished without a single protest; I was leaving him alone in this world. As tears made tracks down my dirty cheeks, I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed that he would remember the love and not the betrayal.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Insomniac

  My eyes were bloodshot and scratchy, and my greasy hair was secured in a messy bun with a yellow scruchy. The bags under my eyes could’ve had their own zip code, and the only make-up I wore was concealing the huge zit in the center of my forehead.

  I wore my comfy gray sweats that were ragged and a size too big for me. Cassie had often told me that I should burn them, but they were kinda like a security blanket, and I only wore them around the house, so I didn’t see the harm. My large Hello Kitty house shoes completed my ensemble, and I actually didn’t think I looked that bad. Mason had said I was cute, but Matt was happy to shatter that delusion. Plus, when I looked in the mirror this morning, I’m pretty sure it groaned, or maybe I was just losing my marbles. Maybe the stress of the past month had finally cracked me.

  “You look like crap!”

  “Gee, thanks so much, Matt; I can always count on you,” I replied dryly.

  I could always count on Cassie as well. She immediately turned to him and slapped him upside the head.

  “Wild animals are supposed to be kept on a leash,” he complained to Eric as he rubbed his head.

  She tried to kick him, but Eric wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place.

  “Are you stupid?” she asked him. “Look at her! She needs our love and support right now, not criticism!”

  “I’m supportive! She looks like a crazy person who lives with a bunch of cats and has imaginary conversations with people who aren’t there. Somebody needs to tell her; I’m helping!”

  “Well, you could’ve been a little nicer about it!”

  “It freaks her out when I’m nice! I’m just keepin’ it real for her.”

  “Yeah, you’re real, Matt, a real moron!”

  Sheesh! I needed to put a stop to this before they started rolling around in the floor, pulling each other’s hair and bi
ting. They were still standing next to the open door, so I waved my hand causing it to slam shut behind them. They were startled into silence long enough to be reminded of my presence.

  “She is standing right here!” I said. “So would you guys please talk to me, instead of about me?” I asked, but neither of them was eager to speak.

  “Don’t listen to them, Al. I think you look sweet.”

  “Thanks, Eric.”

  “Whadda you mean ‘them’? He’s the one who said it!”

  “But you agreed with him, Cass. And how exactly do you tell someone that they look like a hag, nicely. Should he have had musical accompaniment? My very own personal you-suck-a-gram; wow, thanks.”

  “Do you see what you started, you idiot?”

  “You’re the one who should be ashamed of yourself,” Matt told her. “She expects it from me.”

  “Eric, please let me go so I can slap that grin off of his face,” she said, trying to wiggle loose.

  “Allie, a little help, please,” Eric begged.

  “Oh, just let her go,” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “What’s that for?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I wanna record it, and the next time you accuse me of acting like a five year old, I’m gonna play it for you.”

  And that was all it took, she gave Matt one last hateful look, before heading into the living room.

  “Truce?” she asked, after we were all seated in the living room.

  “Yeah, sure,” I grinned, “being around him could drive anyone nuts!”

  And when she hugged me, I was suddenly very glad that they were here. I didn’t even really mind the silly argument Matt and Cassie had had, because it was better than thinking about my fake father, or the zillion monsters after me … or Salem.