by R. L. Perez
“No, I’m fine.” I wanted to sob with relief. “Thank you for coming for me. The bars are enchanted, but it might be just from the inside. Can you cast a spell to set me loose?”
Riker didn’t answer. He watched me with an unreadable expression.
“Riker, come on. We have to hurry before someone finds you.”
Still, Riker hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. Uncertainty swept over me. There was a tightness in his eyes that terrified me. Why is he here?
“The Count says he found Lilith’s cursed witch,” Riker whispered. “Is it true? Is it you?”
My blood ran cold, and I went very still. I didn’t know how to answer him. I couldn’t lie, but if he knew the truth—
I didn’t have a choice. He deserved to know. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should’ve told you before. I don’t know for sure, but . . . I think it is me. But—but I’m looking for a way to cure it. To resist her influence and—”
“Brielle, what the hell?” Riker hissed. His jaw was rigid, and he released the bars from his grasp. “How could you keep that from me? You know there’s a monster that destroys the city every year! It’s the whole reason why we’re stuck in this time loop! And for months, you’ve been prancing around like nothing’s out of the ordinary. Like you aren’t the one who’s going to slaughter thousands of innocent mortals.”
“We don’t know it’s me,” I snapped. “It could be someone else.” But unease crept into my voice. I knew he heard it too.
“That’s your defense?”
I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. But . . . I’m trying to find a way out. A way to get out of here so the people in the city don’t get hurt.”
“That’s even worse, Brielle. At least in the time loop, the people you’ll kill will come back next year. If you leave and unleash the monster someplace else, then you’ll just kill other innocent people who won’t come back.”
A knot formed in my chest. I knew he was right. “But Riker, there’s a way to overcome it. Leo Serrano said—”
“Serrano?” Riker swore and rubbed his forehead. “Lilith, you’ve been talking to Serrano? Brielle, do you have any idea how bad that looks?”
“There’s a cure! There’s a way to stop it, and I swear I’ll find it.”
But Riker was shaking his head. It was hopeless. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.” His voice was laced with hurt and regret.
He was saying goodbye.
“Riker.” I stepped closer, trying to reach him through the bars. “Please. Please. You can’t leave me down here.”
Agony flared in his eyes. “I don’t want to, Brielle,” he said in a choked voice. “You know I care about you. But . . . you’re just one person. Responsible for killing thousands. I—I have to do the right thing here. I’m sorry.” His eyes glistened with tears, and he swallowed. “Goodbye, Brielle.”
He turned away from me and hastened up the steps.
“Riker!” I shouted after him, my voice breaking. “Riker!”
But after a few minutes, his footsteps faded, and then I heard nothing but silence.
He was gone.
23
Leo
I COLLAPSED INTO THE high-backed armchair in my quarters, my body still humming with excitement from the recent feeding with Estrella. As much as her body had called to me, I had to refuse. I’d been spending far too much time indulging with her. If I didn’t withdraw, I risked giving her too much of my venom, which would Turn her after her death.
And that was more than she or any Donor had bargained for.
As luxurious as it was to be immortal and shapeshift, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
A familiar cinnamon scent tickled my nose. I half turned. “Finished feeding already? Poor Marco.”
Jorge sighed and strode into my cavern. “Marco is fine. We didn’t feed today. I only require his blood once a week now, and he does just fine on the blood I give him in return. Which is how it should be.” He leveled a stern gaze at me.
I stared hard at him. Then, I offered a false smile. “Forgive me. I thought I was the coven leader. For a moment, it sounded as if you made the rules.”
Jorge rubbed his face. “That isn’t what I meant. You need to be careful with Estrella.”
I waved a hand. “I know. I sent her away for a while. I’ll find another Donor.”
Jorge crossed his arms, still watching me even after I’d dropped my gaze to the smooth, gray floor. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“The girl.”
I stilled. “What girl?” But I knew who he meant.
Jorge slid into the armchair across from me. “She abducted you. She summoned you and tortured you for information! She’s a threat, Leo.”
I laughed. “She’s not a threat. I’ve bested her twice now.”
“Hardly. From what I heard, she’s proved a worthy adversary in a fight.”
I slouched back in my chair. “She’s not a threat,” I repeated. I couldn’t explain it. No matter how many times we fought, I never felt like my life was in danger around the girl. Perhaps it was because she was a light caster. Based on dealings with the Count, I knew better than to blindly trust someone who practiced light magic.
“What did she want with you?” Jorge asked. “What kind of questions did she ask?”
He’d asked me this before, and I’d merely told him she wanted answers about the Count. Even now, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him she was asking of Lilith’s cursed witch.
No one in the coven—not even Jorge—knew about my sister. And I didn’t trust myself to speak so freely of Lilith’s curse without arousing Jorge’s suspicions.
So instead, I said, “She wanted to know why we kept attacking the castle. What we were looking for.” It wasn’t entirely untrue.
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her nothing.”
Jorge nodded and then frowned. “How did she abduct you? I’ve never heard of a witch who could do that.”
“She had my blood,” I said. “I smelled it in the air. She must’ve cast a . . . reverse locator spell.”
Jorge arched an eyebrow at me. “Such a spell does not exist, Leo.”
I leaned forward, propping my arms on my knees. “I know,” I admitted. “But it wasn’t the first time she’s used . . . unusual spells around me.”
“Unusual how?”
“Spells I’ve never heard of. Spells that sound and feel different. I can’t explain it.”
Jorge’s dark eyes sharpened. “Similar to the Count’s spells?”
I stiffened, my eyes shifting to his. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve hit another dead end, Leo. We are nowhere closer to breaking the Count’s enchantment, and our surprise attack on the castle was ruined by this girl’s interference. What if she can help us?”
“No,” I said tightly.
“Leo, you said it yourself, she casts unusual spells. What if—”
“We are not discussing this.” I rose from my chair and paced the length of my room, avoiding Jorge’s gaze. “You were just explaining what a threat she is, and now you want to make her our ally?”
“I want to eliminate the threat and use her skills at the same time.” Jorge rose to his feet too.
“She despises our coven. She would never agree to help us.”
“If we have the right leverage, I’m sure we can coerce her.”
I shot him an accusing stare.
“She did the same thing to you,” Jorge snapped.
“It’s a slippery slope, Jorge. Soon you will be suggesting we adopt the Count’s methods as well. We have our own rules to abide by.”
“Then, let’s use our rules to coerce her,” Jorge urged, stepping toward me. “We’ll free her from the castle and from the Count. In exchange for her freedom, we’ll ask for her help.”
I shook my head. “Jorge, I’m not bringing in a stranger—an enemy—into this coven
. Facing her in a fight is one thing. When I’m alone, I know I can handle myself against her. But bringing her here, where our people are supposed to be safe? No. For all we know, she’s working with the Count, and my abduction was merely a way to deter our attack. I won’t endanger our family by bringing her here. We’ll find another way.”
Jorge’s jaw went rigid. His eyes blazed as he stared at me. Then, after a long moment, he inclined his head, submitting to my decision.
Fire burned in my blood. I clenched my fingers into fists and strode out of the cavern, desperate to escape from Jorge and the reminder of our predicament.
24
Brielle
I WASN’T SURE HOW MUCH time passed. I drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, slouched on the dirty floor with my head propped up on the bars. I didn’t doze for long, and when I did, I was plagued by visions of the beast, covered in blood and roaring in triumph. I smelled death and black magic, and the scent lingered even after I’d woken.
When I wasn’t sleeping, I either paced my cell or tried new spells to escape. I didn’t care how drained I was—if I died trying to get out, it would be preferable to the torture the Count had planned for me.
My stomach growled with an endless groan like my body was caving in on itself. I tried to squash the ache of hunger, but it grew worse with every passing hour.
After what felt like days, I finally succumbed to the weakness in my body and curled up in the corner of my cell. I drew my knees against my chest and shivered. My very bones seemed to quiver from weakness and hunger. It felt like an animal clawed at my gut, desperate for nourishment. With no food around, it decided to feast on my innards instead.
I tried not to think of the actual beast inside me. The one that would slaughter thousands of innocent civilians in a few months.
Riker was right. I deserved to be in here. Though I longed to escape, what could I do? How could I stop myself from killing all those people?
Leo said there was a way. There has to be a way.
But even Leo had said it was a myth. How could he help me? How could anyone help me?
I miss my family. I miss Mom, Dad, and Angel so much.
I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against my knees. But I wouldn’t cry. I refused to cry.
Loud footsteps jolted me from my misery, and I jumped to my feet, heart pounding. Unlike Riker’s, these steps were slow and careful. Measured. Calculated.
Whoever was down here belonged down here. So, it couldn’t be anyone who would help me.
I swallowed and drew closer to the bars, squinting in the darkness as a tall figure came into view. Even before I could make out his features, I knew it was the Count. His graceful, elegant strides and upright posture reeked of royalty and pretentiousness.
I struggled to keep my breaths calm and remain upright, even though my body ached to crumple back into a fetal position.
The Count approached my cell with a calm expression, his eyes appraising me with mild interest. As if we were sitting by the fire in the library instead of this horrifying prison cell.
“Miss Gerrick,” he said softly. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure. It’s a shame things couldn’t happen differently.”
“I highly doubt that,” I snapped, but my voice came out as more of a croak. “You never liked me.”
The Count frowned and raised his eyebrows as if in agreement. “Perhaps this is true. But I knew from the beginning you were keeping secrets.”
“Can you blame me? Look what happened when you found out who I was.”
“Yes, but keeping it a secret only made you look guiltier,” the Count hissed, leaning closer to me.
“You’re saying if I’d been honest from the beginning, things would’ve turned out differently?” I spat.
The Count’s silence answered my question.
“I thought so,” I said. “Just get on with it.” I turned away from him and crossed my arms, trying to squash down the fear trembling in my bones.
“Before we begin, I have some questions for you,” the Count said softly. He waited, but I said nothing. He sighed and continued, “How long have you known that you were Lilith’s cursed witch?”
I chewed on my tongue, refusing to answer.
“It’s in your best interest to comply, Miss Gerrick. I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”
I thought of the vampire with the bloody gashes on his body. The dark witch who was too weak to even move. I took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know. I haven’t known for sure. But I started having visions—nightmares—a month or so ago.”
“Visions of what, precisely?”
“A beast. A monster.” I swallowed. “Something with fire that slaughtered people.”
The Count was silent for a moment. “Have you exhibited any other symptoms?”
“Besides my lack of magic? No.”
“Ignacio says he found traces of another soul in your blood. Have you felt another presence inside you? Something other than this beast?”
“You mean like Lilith? No. I think I would know if there was someone else in my head.”
The Count scoffed like he didn’t believe this. “When you have these visions of the monster, do you have any control? Any sense of yourself and who you are?”
I was silent for a moment. I knew I had to answer. In a whisper, I said, “No.”
“I see.”
I turned to face him and found a pitying expression on his face. But within his eyes lurked a darkness that reminded me of the demons I’d hunted in Miami. A dark hunger that yearned for blood. For pain and suffering.
I resisted the urge to back farther away from him.
“You have no idea what a relief it is,” the Count said in a soft, dangerous voice, “to have finally found you after all these years.”
I shuddered with revulsion. “Glad I could offer some comfort,” I said, trying to sound bored. I rubbed my arms. “What’re you going to do with me? Kill me?”
The Count cocked his head at me. “Not yet. I’ve searched for you for so long. It would be a waste to dispose of something so . . . fascinating.”
I didn’t like the glint in his eyes. Like I was some machine he wanted to take apart and study.
“I—do you”—I swallowed—“do you think you can heal me? That you can . . . get Lilith out of me? Make me normal again?”
The Count chuckled, but the sound was more like a growl than a laugh. “No, my dear. I fear your fate is already sealed. As a crime against nature, you are doomed to a painful death. But . . . perhaps you can offer something to me before you leave this world and atone for your sins. Perhaps you can provide answers. A key to unlocking Lilith’s curse and keep her from returning and inhabiting another soul. You will not die in vain, Miss Gerrick. Of that I assure you.”
He smiled at me like a predator eyeing its prey and then turned to leave.
“Wait!” I blurted, rushing to the bars and clinging to them in desperation. “Food. I need food. I’m starving.”
The Count glanced at me over his shoulder, his face apathetic. “No, I think you’ll do just fine without sustenance. The less nourishment you have, the more desperate the beast—and Lilith—will become. I’ll return shortly.”
He turned away again and climbed up the steps.
“Please!” I screamed, gripping the bars so tightly my knuckles turned white. “Please don’t leave me here!”
SEVERAL MORE DAYS PASSED, though everything became a blur. Eventually, I grew too weak to pace my cell or even stand, so I sat crouched in the corner with my head against the cool metal bars, trying to ward off the chill and the weak starvation clawing through me. My vision darkened, and I often saw strange things—creatures creeping down the steps toward me. My mom and dad smiling warmly at me. Angel laughing at me.
None of it was real.
At one point a shrill scream pierced the air, echoing in the dungeon. I ignored it, dismissing it as another hallucination. But it persisted,
rattling against my eardrums with such violence that for a moment I wondered if it was real.
I crept toward the sound and shouted, “Hello? Who’s there? What’s wrong?”
The scream gradually subsided, and broken sobs took its place. “Cold,” a deep voice cried. “So cold!”
“What’s so cold?”
“The darkness. Can’t escape. Can’t get out. It’s everywhere.”
I edged forward until my face was pressed against the bars. “Who are you? How long have you been down here?”
“Too long. Forever.”
I was silent for a moment. The demon’s sobs filled the dungeon again.
“My name is Brielle Gerrick,” I said. “They say I’m Lilith’s cursed witch.”
The sobbing stopped abruptly. Then, the demon uttered a sharp gasp. “They found you?”
“Yes.”
There was a soft scuffling noise as the demon shifted. “How did you get here? How did they find you? We tried so hard to protect you.”
I stilled, my bones chilling at his words. “Protect me? Why?”
“These light casters know nothing. They only know light and dark. But we demons know better. Lilith is more than just a demon witch. She’s a prophetess. Her chosen vessels are marked for greatness.”
My skin crawled at his words. “Marked for greatness? You mean the greatness of becoming a beast and killing innocent people?” I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice.
“No, no,” the demon said in an awed whisper. “Lilith cannot inhabit those who are weak. The reason it takes her hundreds of years to resurface is because the vessels she chooses sometimes reject her spirit. The rejection kills the host, and she has to try again.
“But you, Miss Gerrick—you’re strong. If you’re strong enough to let Lilith in, then you’re strong enough to push her out too. We demons revere Lilith’s vessels because they are the epitome of strength and power.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. Anger stirred within me, but I was too weak to speak in anything more than a mumble. “How can I be strong if she takes over my body? How can I be strong if I can’t resist her influence? Or resist the monster she unleashes?”