by Cecy Robson
She steps down from the boulder she’s standing on and into the marsh, hovering above the water like she’s walking along the surface. It’s yet another peek at her power, meant to further intimidate and make us believe she’s more than she is. Is she a mystical powerhouse? Totally. Can she likely kill us all? Sadly, yes. But that doesn’t make her any less of an asshole.
Lessers scatter when they see her roaming the halls, and have left running and sobbing from her classroom.
Rumor has it dozens of wanna-be witches have dropped out of the program under her tutelage and a small few have gone insane following her Runes class. There’s even talk that she killed a Lesser she felt insulted her and that she’s not afraid to do it again.
Fine. But if she does try to kill me, I guarantee I’m going to make her work for it and that my middle finger will be last thing she sees.
Unlike me, the others aren’t scowling, their expressions oddly terrified yet mesmerized by the pull of her voice. I wonder if they could break away from the enchantment if they tried. Based on how enthralled they appear, I’m not so sure, or even if they care enough to try.
The breeze gathers around Agatha as she moves to the center of the marsh, lifting her short blue hair and fanning it in perfect motions along her narrow face. About seven crocs form a circle around her, closing in as she advances, their milky white stares glossed over with hunger.
The Lessers collectively gasp as a croc leaves the circle and slithers toward Agatha. But Agatha keeps both her attention and smirk on us, assuring us she’s in complete control. “By now, you’re all familiar with vampires,” she says, her tone maintaining that haunting edge.
“Yes, Sister Agatha,” everyone answers.
She tilts her head in my direction when she realizes I don’t respond in turn. She must guess I’m not impressed, or afraid, so she tries to assure me she’s someone to fear.
Like some kind of freaky dolphin, the crocodile lifts up from the water, curving its spine so its snout points upward. “Vampires are beautiful, immortal, and strong,” she says. “They’re also dangerous.” She strokes the head of her pet as if it’s a gentle creature that would never sever her face off if given a chance.
“Ever anger a vampire?” she asks, her smile widening.
Yup.
“I have,” she says, oblivious to my thoughts. “It’s a sight to behold.” She stops smiling. “But not to fear. They are less than us. We are the superior race.”
It takes all I have not to roll my eyes because, sweetheart, they feel the same about you. As far as angering a vampire, it’s more like when haven’t I pissed one off?
Judy (I think that’s her name) raises a hesitant hand. “But, Sister Agatha, I thought vampires aren’t allowed to attack us unless provoked, or if their master is in danger,” she says, fear making her stutter.
Agatha smiles. “Well perhaps I did some provoking,” she answers, earning a few more gasps.
Okay. This time, I have to roll my eyes. Misha Aleksandr is among the most powerful master vampires in the world. He and his vamps are the only ones who reside in the area—and badass witch power or not—even the slutty ones who dress like naughty Catholic schoolgirls would rip Agatha’s hands off and smack her across the face with them if “provoked”. So this tells me two things: she’s either talking about something stupid she did long ago—and to another vampire clan—or she’s full of shit. I’m leaning toward the latter because there is such a thing as trying too hard and damn it all, this woman is really pushing it.
Agatha’s fingertips slide underneath the croc’s jaw as she releases it back into the water. “Who can tell me what bloodlust is?” she asks.
Tina raises her hand. Like the others, she seems terrified, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to kiss up to Agatha or toss a nasty grin my way. “In a vampire or wolf, Superior Sister?” she asks.
I take a deep breath and briefly lower my lids, knowing it’s a dig on Aric. Now, everyone’s looking at me. They heard the rumors about his moon sickness—aka the equivalent of bloodlust for a were that usually results in his quick death, but not before plenty of bloodshed. I make a mental note to punch her in the face come graduation, if by some miracle I manage to graduate and not die.
What happened to Aric was no joke, and one of the hardships he and Celia just barely survived. So when I answer, my anger reflects in my tone. “Moon sickness affects weres, and is caused by a curse cast by a witch,” I snap. “Bloodlust in a vampire comes in two forms: acute, which results when a vamp has gone to long without feeding, easily remedied by providing a feed, or chronic. Chronic occurs when some psycho witch curses him or poisons his bloodstream. There’s no cure for chronic bloodlust. Nothing to do, but put down the vamp.” My face meets Tina’s. “And supposedly there’s no cure for moon sickness, but my brother-in-law Aric managed to fight it off.”
I’d cut Tina off, and failed to address Agatha by her “Superior” title. But honestly, I could care less.
“My,” Agatha says. “You seem to have a lot of experience with both.”
“You can say that,” I agree, returning her smile with equal kindness.
She laughs, unimpressed, not that I expect anything less. “It’s forbidden to keep a bloodlust vamp alive. Yet I must teach you to kill one.” She stretches out her arms, motioning to the crocodiles. “I suppose my babies will just have to do.”
I groan, despite recognizing this is where she was headed.
“A vampire inflicted with chronic bloodlust knows only hunger,” she says, adding an extra ping of drama to her voice. “No amount of feeding will satisfy him, reducing him to a mindless predator who will viciously murder everything in his path.” Again, there’s that wicked smile. “These creatures represent the lethal equivalent of one vampire in his early stages of bloodlust.”
Again, more gasping as another five crocodiles join those circling Agatha. I’d like to say she’s exaggerating, but she’s not. I’ll give her this, she paints an accurate picture.
She loses her smile. “Your task is simple: fight and survive. It is only by knowing your enemy’s power and strength can you hope to defeat him.”
There’s no hesitation. From one blink to the next, Paula is ripped from the spot where she’s standing beside me and flung into the water.
The force from Agatha’s pull is so harsh, Paula’s arm smacks against my cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. The slap is intentional, meant to put me in my place and shut me up. I get it. But considering Agatha demands respect, there’s none shown to poor Paula.
And it really pisses me off.
Agatha selected Paula because she knows she’s the weakest in strength and ability. She’s also the one who appeared most frightened. Agatha means to stir fear and cause everyone to panic.
Not that she doesn’t succeed.
The group jumps when Paula falls shrieking, some of them failing to muffle their screams. The crocodiles don’t wait, diving in the direction Paula disappears. I rush to the edge, losing one of my shoes in the mud in my urgency to reach the water.
The mist in front of me forms into long spindly hands, slamming into my shoulders and holding me in place. I struggle to wrench free, my arm glowing in protest as I square my sights on Agatha. “Get her out of there,” I snap. “She can’t fight like this. She isn’t ready.”
Agatha talks over me. “As witches, you must always be prepared for battle.”
Jade and red lights spread across the murky water as Agatha adds an extra boost to her spell. Paula’s hand shoots up only to be quickly ripped downward. I swing my arms against the mist holding me back, sparks of blue and white energy erupting around me.
I don’t know what magic Agatha is working, but my magic can’t counter it, and my hands swipe through the mist as it keeps me in place. “Get her out of there!” I yell, calling my magic from deep within my core.
The misty hands solidify to gray, falling away like ash. I’m not sure what I did, and neither is Agatha. Her eye
s widen with shock, but they don’t stay on me. Her focus whips to the murky water and she sighs as if annoyed. She dips her staff into the water, swirling it once and flinging Paula back onto the shore.
Paula lands by my feet, gagging, choking, and sobbing. Her clothes are in tatters, every inch of her covered in muck . . . and blood. I tug down her sleeves, examining her arms.
Puncture marks and scratches litter her exposed skin in alternating patterns. She didn’t manage to fight these things off, but she effectively used her magic to protect her. Against a vamp infected with bloodlust, she might have managed to stay alive. Her wounds aren’t deep and none of the injuries lethal. To me that’s a win.
I gather her to me when she falls into hysterics, trying to console her. “It’s okay. It’s over, Paula. You did well.”
“Don’t lie to her,” Agatha tells me, her voice more like a snarl.
“I’m not,” I fire back. “She protected herself against a mortal injury. A human would be dead—”
“She’s not human,” Agatha reminds me. “And she’s had enough training to fight back.” She scoffs as the crocodiles line up beside her like her own personal army, ready to maul every last one of us. “An infected vampire is nothing—not compared to the new evil that’s rising. I feel it every time the moon peaks in the heavens. It’s coming, and will spare no one!”
She zooms across the water, spreading the mist into streaming bands of white as she looms over Paula. “You’re nothing but a liability,” she tells her. “An embarrassment to your teachers and our kind.”
I can’t see Paula, I’m too busy glaring at Agatha and wishing her herpes. But I feel her spirit crumbling and weakening against my arms.
Agatha scans the crowd, addressing our peers. “Who can tell me what Lesser Paula did wrong?”
I lift my hand. “She got up this morning?”
“No,” Agatha growls.
“She signed up for this shit?” I guess again.
The Lessers take a collective step back as ribbons of jade and red light swirl from Agatha’s staff. Paula shrinks against me, but I hold my ground.
“You have a very big mouth,” Agatha tells me. “I think I need to teach you to shut it.”
I know what’s coming even before the mist snakes around my waist like rope. But the motion is too fast, and not nearly long enough for me to take a breath. The cold murky water envelops me at once as I’m plunged deep within the marsh.
Chapter Twenty-one
Here’s the thing about witches, there’s a reason the word rhymes with “bitches”. It’s not bad enough I’m dumped into a freaking ice-cold swamp at the ass-crack of dawn with circling crocodiles ready to eat me. No. Not with this crew. After all, this “training” isn’t meant to simply teach you to cast a few spells, ride a broom bareback, or in my case, keep me from dying. It’s a mind fuck meant to break your will so only those most worthy are bequeathed the title of Superior Witch.
I may not want the title. That doesn’t mean the Superiors aren’t determined to break me.
My arm glows in the surrounding darkness as the dim sunlight above me slips away. My mouth is closed and while I don’t have a lot of oxygen, my lungs aren’t threatening to burst. That doesn’t mean there’s no need to panic.
My feet are heavy as if encased in blocks of cement that plunge me down further. I jerk when something green whips past me, only to whirl when something smacks me in the back. But it’s what I see a few feet away that has me close to screaming.
Gemini is bound to the base of the marsh with gold chains. His head is bowed and blood from his partially eaten flesh intermix with the swampy water.
It’s a trap. I’m sure it is. But when he lifts his head, and his agonized stare locks on mine, my need to know compels me to go to him.
I can’t swim, and more or less flap my arms and legs in his direction. Yet it’s the current pushing against my back that forces my attention away.
I barely catch sight of the infected vampire, but I see enough to recognize how sick she is. Grotesque muscles bulging with infection overtake her form, swirling putrid green liquid beneath her skin to the point of bursting, while bat-like features distort what had once been a beautiful face.
Except it’s not so beautiful anymore.
Her long matted hair whips behind her as she torpedoes forward, her fangs exposed and her dagger-like nails elongating as she nears.
I lift my right arm as she lurches at me, trying to block her fangs from my throat. I spare my jugular, but not much else. Long, sharp points dig into my flesh and scrape against the bone.
I scream, releasing the air in my lungs by half. I shake my arm wildly, struggling to wrench her off me. She clings to it, cradling it against her as she bites her way across and closer to my neck.
Her eyes sear into mine, the lustful hunger behind them surging. I kick and punch uselessly, realizing my physical strength isn’t enough.
Burn, I think, pathetically calling my fire.
Burn.
Tiny blue sparks creep from my fingertips, disappearing as they rise toward the surface. The vamp barely notices, chomping into my arm and tugging at the skin, appearing confused when she can’t rip the flesh from the bone.
My skin holds tight. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I feel every last tug, shrieking as her fangs clamp down.
More air leaves my lungs, the bubbles floating away like the sparks.
Come on, burn. Damn it, burn.
I don’t think it’s my will, not by how fear overtakes me. It’s my arm reacting to the invasion and the vamp’s escalating hunger. It trembles, rattling the vampire and detonating her into chunky green bits in one mighty explosion.
The pieces of flesh draw more vamps like raw meat to piranhas, but also to me. This time, I don’t wait to be bitten.
My arm shoots out, sending blue and white fire jetting from my arm. It strikes the closest vamp, taking his head off his shoulders and enticing his friends to tear him apart.
More ripping flesh, more green putrid fluid, more chunks. The frantic results of the chewing and mauling distorting the water and blinding me. I scramble forward, or up—or freaking sideways. I’m not sure where I’m headed, my desperation to find Gemini making me frantic.
Something snags my ankle, dragging me down. I barely manage more than a minor sizzle within my core and aim blindly. The hold loosens, but not enough to release me. I kick out, tensing and allowing the fear to sweep through me and for that sense of power to ignite one last time.
This time when I unleash my fire, it releases like the rapid discharge of bullets. Clumps of vamp float up to my face, letting me know I struck it dead on. I try swimming up and away from the feasting vampires, but the weight at my feet keeps me from reaching the surface.
I catch sight of Gemini and move frantically toward him. He’s made no effort to break free, or move, his head bobbing lifelessly. Son of a bitch. I know it’s not him. My wolf would fight, show signs of a struggle—something. But that doesn’t mean I can leave him!
I steal a glance over my shoulder to where the vamps continue to consume each other, the mix of blood and flesh causing them to fight and turn against the small and weak. Two males pounce on a female, tearing the muscles of her writhing limbs from the bone and adding to the carnage. My legs kick faster, my urgency to reach Gemini making my pulse race.
I don’t have a lot of time before the vamps remember me, but maybe I have enough.
The water, so thick with body fluids and God knows what else, makes it feel like I’m treading through gelatin. It exhausts my arms and makes it harder to hang onto my remaining oxygen.
I practically throw my arms around Gem when I reach him, my mind wrestling with how to free him and whether this is the last step in this twisted quiz.
My thumbs graze over his goatee as I lift his face with trembling hands, searching for any signs of life. His chin jerks up at the same time he breaks free and fastens his hands across my throat.
&nbs
p; He forces my gaze onto his as he squeezes, his eyes flashing the putrid green of a cursed wolf. Now, I know it’s not really him, and that the real Gemini is safe. But as the air is forced from my lungs, I’m the one who’s in trouble.
My hands grip his wrists, calling forth my magic as darkness dims my sight. He clamps down hard, but pain and fear are the jumpstart I need to trigger my power and ignite him in blue and white flames. I press my feet against his chest, trying to push free—not wanting to watch that face that haunts my dreams blister and his skin melt away. Yet despite his cooking flesh, he hangs tight, forcing me to watch everything my fire does to him.
I know this isn’t the man I love, the one who broke my heart and made me cry. That doesn’t make it easier to watch him fall apart. Not when I’m the cause.
My body lurches against his, the force of my magic sputtering as if dying along with him, only to reignite from my arm like a firestorm.
Water boils around me, the heat so tremendous I feel it turn against me and burn my skin. I thrash back and forth, furious that despite Vieve’s bind, my arm betrays me again. But it’s the rage I feel seeing Gemini implode that propels my magic and launches me backward.
The last breath of enchanted air leaves me in a merciless rush when my back strikes against the embankment. I roll to my side, clawing my way across the mud as I choke on scum and what might be leftover vamp parts.
I’m not sure which side of the marsh I’m on until arms hook beneath me and haul me up. Paula’s there, and the tall blonde whose name I can’t remember. I’m retching, trying to expel whatever I swallowed. They hold tight as I struggle to keep my feet.
Shit. It seems to take forever before I can take a decent breath. But even then it takes me another few moments to realize no one’s looking at me.
All eyes are on the marsh as it boils the remains of the crocodiles bobbing along the surface.
The smell is awful, the experience worse, and watching Gemini get stewed like fish—horrific. But it’s that glare that Agatha is pegging me that makes me come undone.