I took another step and so did he. I took two more – but so did he.
Alarms blared through my mind. This was bad. I had to get out of here but he and the demon-dog were blocking the only path to the front door. Wait, the back door! Downstairs on the first floor there was a door that led out back of our shop and into an alley. If I could get there, I had a chance to run.
Without moving my head, I glanced to my right and almost cried with relief – I was already on the aisle that led to the stairs. The demon-dog prowled forward, growling so loud it shook the stacks of books. The man whispered something I couldn’t hear and the demon-dog froze again. I rolled to the balls of my feet. The man cocked his head to the side.
In 3…2…RUN!
I spun and sprinted down the aisle of French Revolutionary books. The black iron railing of the terrace that overlooked the lower level of the store was right there.
A growl ripped through the darkness behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and screamed.
The demon-dog was chasing me, barreling down the hallway. It moved like a shadow, slithering toward me. The stairs were right there. It was in my reach. I dug my heels in and pushed my legs harder. Over the edge of the terrace railing I saw the glow of the red EXIT sign. I had to make it. But the demon-dog’s hot breath was sweeping through my hair. He was too close. His growls sent books crashing to the ground. Each time one landed open, a holographic picture shot out of the pages.
I grabbed a couple books off the shelves as I ran, then turned and threw them as hard as I could at the demon-dog. Dark red smoke shot out of my hands like missiles. It hit the demon-dog and threw it backward into the air. The demon-dog yelped. I glanced up behind it and my heart stopped. The man just stood there. Watching me.
I cursed and turned back for the stairs. The ground rumbled and wood groaned – and then a massive wooden stack that housed dozens of books crashed down into the spiral staircase. Books scattered everywhere, tumbling over the edge and crashing to the first floor. I slid to a stop with my heart in my throat and my cellphone gripped in my hand. The demon-dog stood up and shook its head. Behind it, in the distance, his owner’s eyes glossed over like a predator’s in the night. He was just standing there blocking the door.
Shit, shit, shit. I turned back to the railing and spotted the emergency exit. Close enough – I just had to get there, but the stairs were blocked. Oi. You have to get down there, Chloe. MOVE. In a desperate panic, I shoved my phone in my bra then climbed over the black iron railing to stand at the very edge of the balcony…and then I jumped.
Cool air rushed over my face but then my feet hit the top of the tower of books in the middle of the room. The force of my landing knocked my feet out from under me. My knees slammed into the wood and pain laced up my legs. There were a dozen book towers on the first floor, if I could just use them as stepping stones, I could get across the mezzanine. Each of the stacks were only a few feet apart. I didn’t give myself time to think it over to see the faults in my plan. I pushed to my feet then leapt into the air just as the demon-dog landed on the tower I’d been on. The world wobbled. The first tower tipped over and fell into the others like dominos.
My stomach sank and I screamed.
But it was too late, we were already crashing into the next tower. The towers crashing together sounded like icebergs taking down the Titanic. My heart leapt into my throat. There was nothing I could do but fall with them. The ground closed in and then pain exploded all through me. A thick grunt slipped out of my mouth and echoed around the room. The demon-dog had rolled a few tower stacks over.
I scrambled back to my feet and glanced up to the balcony.
The man stood at the very spot I’d jumped from, next to the blocked stairs. He said nothing, just watched me. WHAT THE HELL? Move, Chloe! I spun and sprinted as fast as I could toward the glowing red EXIT sign. I was ten feet away when I looked up to the door and spotted him.
WHAT? NO! HOW?
He’d just been on the other side of the stairs, and upstairs. I slid to a stop, my arms and legs pinwheeling until I caught my balance. I didn’t wait for him to speak. I spun on my toes and sprinted away from him. My mind was a blur. I saw everything and nothing at the same time. Fear had my body shaking and my breaths hitched. My pulse raced in my veins. When the other black iron spiral staircase came into view I wanted to cry, but I had to keep moving.
I gripped the rails and flew up the steps two at a time. When I got to the top, I hopped off and looked up — my heart stopped. It was HIM.
He stood right in front of me, closer than before, looking tall and terrible, like the most beautiful shadow in the world. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline shimmered in the glow of the red smoke pouring out of me. His golden eyes flashed. He arched one eyebrow and wings made of black smoke formed behind his back. He took one step toward me and I screamed.
I scurried back, then spun. I had no idea where I was headed but I just had to get away from him. Up ahead I saw the painting of the Bodleian library I’d painted on the wall, there was a narrow walkway that led to a window – if I could get to it I could climb out then scream for help. I glanced back and cried out. He was only a few feet behind me. I leapt forward, but when I landed my boots slid across the hardwood floor. My body spun around, my arms swinging to try and catch my balance. My shoulder hit the wall — but then cold air washed over me and a bright light flashed…and then I was free falling into darkness.
Chapter Two
Chloe
I screamed as my stomach shot up into my throat. I threw my hands back as I fell into nothingness…and then I crashed into solid ground. My body slid a few feet across dark hardwood floors before I rolled and landed like an upside-down starfish. Every inch of my body shouted in pain. I groaned and rolled onto my side – THE GUY! I gasped and scrambled back to my feet, but he was nowhere in sight.
I blinked and looked around, spinning to check in every direction…then frowned. I stood in the middle of a dark, empty room. Where am I? There was no one here and nothing much to look at either, just a long narrow hall with tall multi-paned windows that stretched all the way up to a sharply vaulted ceiling made of intricately carved ivory. Beneath each window was a dark wooden door.
It all looked unnervingly familiar, like the painting of the Bodleian Library in Oxford that I’d painted on the — I gasped. It was the painting I’d painted but in real life. My jaw dropped. I was standing right in the middle of the common hall at the Divinity School. It was my favorite spot of all of Oxford because it made me feel like a princess in a big castle. I glanced to my right and spotted the massive oak door that I knew held a small set of stairs just on the other side.
I shoved my trembling fingers into my hair and listened to my ragged breaths echoing down the empty hall. The bright moonlight streaming in through the windows looked like blue fog as it mixed with the golden lights of the lamps along the wall. I’d never been in here at six in the morning. I wasn’t used to seeing it like this, but now I couldn’t unsee it. I was in the Bodleian Library…in Oxford…a few miles away from the Red Rose Bookstore.
“How did I get here?” I cried out to no one, because I was alone. “I was at the bookstore and now I’m here.”
It made no sense.
I was in the Lancaster bookstore…that man and the demon-dog were chasing me — I gasped as I remembered them again. I spun in wild circles, expecting them to show up in one of the shadows clinging to the walls. But then that red river of smoke poured out of me again. It slithered across the floor in every direction, creeping over every crack and grain of wood then slowly rising up toward the steep vaulted ceiling. It was everywhere.
A violent sob ripped up my spine and my legs gave out. I sank to the floor, my legs bent at weird angles beneath me. NO! Get up! They could show up at any second, I couldn’t be sitting like bait on the floor. I scrambled up onto my hands and knees then crawled over to the wooden bench. I started to drag myself up when my gaze landed on a s
mall black leather-bound book sitting on the bench in front of me.
My mind replayed memories of those books back in the store all coming to life. I’m just crazy. That has to be it. I’m tired. This isn’t real. None of this is real. I reached out with a shaking hand and flipped the book open. Bright golden light shot straight up like a spotlight. I looked up, expecting to see the Batman signal on the ceiling and prove to myself that I was sleeping – but it wasn’t there.
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I looked back down and choked on a gasp. A holographic image glistened in front of me of a long-haired man tied to a cross. Blood dripped from his wrists and ankles —I threw my hand up to cover my mouth and red smoke slammed into the book, flipping the pages rapidly.
When they stopped, a large tree stood tall from the pages, I looked up to see what this picture was of and nausea rolled up my throat. Five sets of bare feet swung in the air above me. Female feet. NO. I dove for the book, my fingers grazing the soft parchment pages scribbled with handwritten notes. I could barely read their handwriting but the words Salem Witch Trials were all I needed to see. I slammed the book shut and the image vanished.
My pulse fluttered and my body felt like it was on fire. Tears streamed from my eyes, dripping onto the floor around me and onto my knees. I wrapped my arms around the bench and pressed my face to the cool wood and sobbed.
The air warmed and swirled around me…like something was moving in the shadows.
But there were no windows open. No doors open.
It was him. I didn’t look up. I was done. I’d had too much. This was too much. What’s happening to me? I needed to move, to run, to get the hell out of danger but I wasn’t sure where that meant. I didn’t even know how I got here. One second I’d been running through the bookstore, the next I was inside this hall. I’d seen the painting of this room and then it was like I fell into it. Which didn’t make any sense. It was some kind of magic—
I gasped and looked up, though I saw nothing.
Magic.
I’d never believed in magic. I was the historian. The fact checker. The realist. At least in real life. The only magic I knew of happened in the fiction books I read for fun. This was the kind of magic you read about in books about teenagers falling in love with vampires. This was something straight out of Harry Potter: wizards and — witches.
Witch.
Magic.
Witch.
No…it can’t be, can it?
My whole childhood my grandmother had told me stories about a coven of witches and magic, of the wild adventures they went on to save the world from demons. She’d told me of families born from angels…of soulmates…of magic and hiding it in plain sight so humans couldn’t hurt them. They were my favorite stories growing up. I used to make her tell me several every night before bed. They were the reason I read fantasy novels.
But they were stories. Fiction. Made up by an old lady for her granddaughter.
Right? They have to be fake. They can’t be—
A loud, shrill alarm cut into my downward spiral from inside my shirt. I cursed and dove for my phone that I’d tucked into my bra in a panic. When I pulled it out I froze. My grandmother’s name and face filled my screen. I reached down with fingers that trembled so hard my bones were vibrating and answered the call, then pressed the phone to my ear.
“Grandmother—”
“Chloe!” My grandmother said in a rush, her voice a little breathier than usual. “Chloe, are you all right?”
A sob ripped free from deep in my gut and I cried, “No! No I’m not all right. I think I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not going crazy, dear—”
“Yes, I am! The books and the paintings are moving! MOVING. And this red smoke is everywhere—"
“Get home, Chloe,” she said calmly. “Now. I’ll explain everything. Just get home.”
“I can’t,” I cried and sniffled. “I don’t even know how I got here! I don’t have a car. I can’t call Edith. She’ll think I’ve lost my mind and they’ll lock me away—”
“Where are you, Chloe?”
“In a painting,” I said between sobs. I knew I needed to tell her about the man but I just couldn’t bring myself to.
“Where are you, Chloe?”
“In the Bodleian, the Divinity School hall—”
“Like in the painting in the bookstore?”
“YES.” I sat back on my heels and wiped tears off my face as I glanced into all the shadows.
“Listen to me, dear. I’ll explain everything when you get here. But for now, you have to do as I say.” She cleared her throat. “Do you see wooden doors up and down the hall?”
I looked around me and sniffled but it just made the heat in my chest burn more. “Y-yes.”
“Those doors are all portals to other places but there’s one that’s just for us—”
“What?”
“It’s just for Lancasters, Chloe. That door will bring you right to our front door. You need to get through it.”
“What? Granny? What are you saying to me?” Had she gone crazy, too? Or had I lost it so bad that this entire conversation was not really happening?
“Chloe, listen to me. None of this is as scary as it seems—”
Rubbish! I glanced over my shoulder and into the dark shadow at the far end of the room. I kept waiting for red and gold eyes and black smoke. He was here somewhere. Watching. Hiding. Tormenting me. Like the more fear rolling off of me the more satisfying the kill.
“CHLOE,” grandmother’s voice rumbled in my ear and I jumped.
“S-s-s-sor-r-ry.”
“Find the door, Chloe. It’s marked with a single small rose engraving.”
“W-what? Wh-where?” I hated how much my voice was breaking and how violently my body was shaking.
“In the bottom corner. I don’t know which one. I’ve never been. Just find it,” she said in a rush, then shouted to someone on her end. “Get to that door, Chloe. Nothing can harm you on these grounds. Get through the door.”
And then the line went dead.
With still shaking hands, I shoved my phone back in my bra then pushed myself up onto my feet. I pushed my hair back and glanced around. I wasn’t alone here, not really. I felt eyes on my back. And as I stumbled toward the doors along the wall, I felt those eyes burning against my spine. I needed to get out of here before he reached out and grabbed me.
I blindly reached for the closest door handle in a panic. The second my trembling fingers tightened on the handle, I yanked it open. A gust of salty-aired wind slammed into me, pushing me back a step and forcing the wooden door to smash into the wall beside it. I threw my hands out and red smoke coiled around the open door. I caught a glimpse of an ocean rolling onto the sand before the door slammed in my face.
With a startled gasp, I dove for the next door. I pulled it open and my balance faltered. My knee dropped and slammed into the floor. On the other side of the door was some kind of stone courtyard that had a giant stone fountain made of fairies, but something in the air of that one sent little electric pulses into my fingers so I slammed that door shut too.
I stood there staring at the dark wooden plank of the door, trying to wrap my head around what was happening. This is crazy. This can’t be happening. Maybe one of those students at Cambridge slipped me something and this is — a loud growl erupted from the far-left corner. The ground shook under my feet. The rumble of the growl echoed until it was a chorus of them. I peeked over my shoulder – and the wind was knocked out of me.
Two eyes glowed within the shadows. One red. One gold. The shadow swayed and swirled. Two large black paws stepped into a patch of moonlight.
SHIT. RUN!
I dove for the next door just as the demon-dog leapt into the air at the far end of the hall. I yanked it open but saw only a towering dark forest. I leapt for the next one, pulling the door open and half-jumping through it when I realized the building made of red brick was definitely not ours.
The demon-dog snapped its teeth, and the sound echoed through my chest. I flinched and scurried for the next door, but my feet slid out from under me and my stomach slammed into the floor. No, no, no, no, no. I cursed and pushed onto all fours. From under my body I saw the demon-dog’s paws getting closer and the dark outline of a person in shadow.
SHIT. I scrambled, crawling like a newborn animal — and then I saw it. I slid to a stop in front of a door with a small rose carved into the bottom corner. Yes! I reached out to pry the door open, but unlike the others it took force. I had to get on my knees and pull. It finally snapped open and I saw the outline of Lancaster Estate in the distance.
Heat slammed into my back and seeped into my bones. I glanced over my shoulder and my eyes met HIS. He stood right behind me, black wings and all. I gasped and dove through the door.
Chapter Three
Chloe
My shoulder slammed into hard stone and my bones made a sickening crunch. Cold air rushed over my body, lifting me into the air and rolling me several times before I finally face-planted. I groaned and coughed. Every inch of my body was screaming. I lifted my head, but the world was a spinning blur through the strands of my hair hanging in my face.
“Bloody buggering biscuit eating wankstain,” I grumbled and pushed up on my hands and knees. The world spun again and my stomach turned. “Just dive through a magical portal, you daft plonker.”
After a few seconds, I sat back on my heels and pushed the long blonde strands of my hair out of my face. My body burned all over. My chest was tight, making each breath a damn struggle. I glanced over my shoulder, fully expecting that man with the smoky black wings and demon-dog to be standing there waiting to kill me…yet I found only the vast front lawn of Lancaster Estate. Of home. There was no door to be seen. I had absolutely no bloody idea where I’d just come from.
The Rose Witch (The Coven: Old Magic Stand-Alone Novel Book 1) Page 2