Renegade Witch: An Urban Fantasy Reverse Harem Romance (Sanctum of Witches Book 1)

by T. S. Bishop

  I wasn’t content to sit by the sidelines and wait for other people to fight in ways that I couldn’t. When I fought with Sophie, I didn’t want to be the weak link that was holding her back. So I was working on something that I thought would help us. But I couldn’t talk about it yet, at least not until I knew that it was something that would work.

  I guess they weren’t the only ones keeping secrets.

  “I don’t like it either,” said Dominic again, sighing. His face had gone white at the mention of drains, and I had to admit that I was feeling a little queasy too. “But you’re forgetting one very important fact.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s Sophie,” said Dominic simply. “If anyone’s going to save themselves, it’ll be her. She got herself out the first time, right? Without magic or anything.”

  “She said that’s why you should always keep a knife in your boot,” I added.

  Adrian looked at me and his mouth twitched. I looked back at him steadily, and couldn’t point to the exact moment when we both broke, but soon we were almost crippled with laughter. Dominic looked between the two of us bemusedly.

  “Completely insane,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

  Just then, the door was pushed open and Adele strode in, with the confidence of a military general. Which was normal for her. It reassured me to see the look on her face. She didn’t look strained or worried and I thought that if she’d gotten any bad news about Sophie by now she would have been a wreck.

  But maybe I was just projecting.

  “They want you three down in the War Room,” she said without preamble, “Ingram’s called a meeting into order to figure out what to do about Sophie.”

  We jogged after her as she briskly strode away. I never understood how she always outpaced the three of us when we were more than half a foot taller than her. Adrian sometimes joked that her rage fueled her speed, but always out of her earshot.

  When we stepped into the War Room, it was emptier than last time.

  I still remembered the heady rush I felt when I first got to go inside, only a few days ago but now it felt like a lifetime had gone by. Today there was none of that electric anticipation and buzz. In fact, most of the witches and Bloodsworn there looked bored.

  I was sure that they’d rather be out on a mission somewhere dangerous, facing down demons trying to rip their throats out and drink their souls. We at the Sanctum weren’t very good at sitting around and doing nothing.

  Luckily, the three of us had spent years perfecting the art of doing nothing, since we weren’t able to go on missions without our with, so in that sense we had a head start on everyone else.

  “Ah, good,” Ingram said, spotting us when we sat down at the far end of the table, “It looks like we’re all here so we can begin. First of all, I’d like to thank everyone present for making the time to attend this meeting—“

  “You insisted that everyone not currently out on missions had to attend, and threatened us with expulsion if we didn’t,” said a brown-haired, grumpy looking witch a few seats down from us.

  There were murmurs of agreement, but Ingram didn’t seem fazed.

  “I’m still grateful for your attendance,” he said smoothly. “Now—back to the matter at hand. Sophia Landry has been taken by the same group that kidnapped her unsuccessfully weeks ago. Clearly, it is a matter of great concern to us when someone seems to be targeting a witch in our Sanctum, as seems to be the case here.”

  “I would agree,” said the same grumpy witch from before, “If I knew that it wasn’t some kind of personal vendetta that is being settled here. Sophia Landry is the feral witch we found recently, isn’t she?”

  “Indeed,” said Ingram, a crease beginning to form between his eyebrows, “But there is nothing to suggest that she has any prior affiliation—positive or negative—with these people.”

  “Even assuming that’s the case,” said another witch, “We still need to question whether this is really the best time to stage a rescue operation, which I suppose is the purpose of this meeting?”

  This time, I recognized her. Her name was Alanna, and she’d been a field agent before a rogue demon managed to blow her leg off. Now she worked in the Archive with my parents. She’d snuck me chocolates when I was six and used to run around the Archives like they were my own home.

  “It is,” said Ingram steadily. Another murmur went around the room, this time of disapproval and reproof.

  “Nathan, this is crazy,” said a man pleadingly. He seemed to be more than passingly familiar with Ingram, and I guessed that they were year-mates who had grown up together in the Sanctum, or they were Bloodsworn to the same witch. “You know we don’t have the resources right now. We all want to help this girl, but look how undermanned we are already!”

  “That’s right,” said Alanna, “In fact, I thought you’d called this meeting to discuss this sudden uptick in demon activity in the city, Nathan. You can’t dance around the subject. All three of my assistants, who haven’t been in the field in years, were called out last week! I’m counting down to being drafted myself at this rate.”

  “I understand your concerns, really I do,” said Ingram. I was amazed at how poised and calm he was. If Alanna had ever spoken to me like that I would have either started to ugly cry or hidden behind my parents. Or both. But Ingram’s face was flat and pleasant, without any hint of embarrassment or guilt. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t quite place it…

  “And no one will be sent to retrieve Sophia if they would rather participate in more conventional missions, as I fully understand that some of you may view this as a matter of lesser importance—“

  “I’m not sure how that’s possible,” someone boldly interrupted. It was, without a doubt, Adrian’s bold voice that rang out clear as a bell.

  I shot a terrified look at Dominic, who shrugged and raised his eyes to the heavens as though to say ‘what’re you gonna do?’

  You see, Adrian was growing more and more restless and irritable through the meeting. The more people seemed to say that Sophie could be left alone with those assassin guys, the more twitchy and mad he seemed to get.

  Combine that with his natural…uh, call it impulsiveness, and—well, what did you get when you give fire a little room to breathe?

  Adrian, of course.

  “The chair recognizes Adrian Mortimer,” said Ingram in the silence that followed.

  On the other hand, I thought disloyally, it was going to be fun to watch the pyrotechnics.

  “The chair will do no such thing,” said another witch briskly. It was Vivian, Adrian’s mom. I saw him stiffen with outrage, but his ears were turning red, a classic sign of embarrassment.

  “Now now, Vivian,” said Ingram soothingly, “Your son has a right to speak—“

  “He does not, however, have a right to disrupt the important work of the Sanctum in order to put his personal life first.”

  “I wouldn’t call saving a witch of the Sanctum a personal issue,” said Dominic unexpectedly.

  “Agreed,” I added, and felt the collective eye of the room turn to me. Oops. “Leaving aside the issue of personal responsibility, getting Sophie away from those people means we have another witch at hand to go on missions. I would also like to add,” I said, getting comfortable, “That Sophie was taken on the way back from a successful mission on the Sanctum’s orders. I would hate to think of us as an organization that does less than the bare minimum to protect its members.”

  “What he said,” said Adrian, sounding stunned.

  “Noah makes an eloquent argument in favor of sending troops to retrieve this witch,” said Alanna, giving me a small smile. I waved back.

  “However,” she said, expression turning grave again, “I cannot agree that this would be the best use of our resources.”

  “What if you just sent us?” asked Dominic.

  “What would you be able to do without a witch?” demanded Vivian. Ouch.

  “I go
t her back the last time,” said Adrian fiercely, “And I brought her here. Without magic, actually. We can do plenty. Just perform a tracking spell to point us in the right direction and we’ll do it ourselves.”

  “I would like to state my objection to this,” said the last person I thought would be against this plan—Nathan Ingram himself.

  “But Nathan,” said Alanna, sounding confused, “I thought you were in favor of rescuing Sophia—“

  “I was,” he said stiffly, “But with normal mission parameters and with a witch to provide the firepower. Sending three Bloodsworn, barely trained, on their own is foolhardy in the extreme.”

  “I never thought I’d be on the side of my son’s idiot plan,” said Vivian, sighing, “But I have to agree that sending them seems like the most sensible option we have at the moment. I think this calls for a vote, don’t you?”

  Ingram looked around at the expectant faces and sighed. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “I’m afraid this is one occasion where we will have to agree to disagree. I won’t let this proposal be voted on. I’m sorry,” he said to the three of us.

  There was a tone of surprise in the whispers that flooded the room as we left. Ingram was normally a peaceable, reasonable man and he was notorious for being reluctant to make unilateral decisions or vetoing majority motions.

  “It makes no sense,” said Dominic, and I agreed.

  “I just don’t understand why,” I said, “It doesn’t make sense. I mean, why would he want to protect us? We’re not really useful to the Sanctum like this, are we?”

  “That’s a surprisingly utilitarian statement coming from you, Noah,” said a voice from behind us. We turned to see Alanna, leaning slightly on her cane and carrying a load of books in her other arm. I automatically took them from her, an instinct honed from years of growing up with sisters who mercilessly bullied me into doing things for them.

  “I didn’t mean that the Sanctum wouldn’t care if we died, obviously,” I said, “But it’s for the best if we try to get Sophie back, isn’t it? Can we really afford to have a missing witch now that the demons are out of control?”

  “We most certainly can’t,” Alanna said, frowning into the distance, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Nathan—but never mind, it’s unproductive to speculate. As it so happens, I agree with you three and I want to help.”

  “Really?” asked Adrian eagerly, “You’ll go with us?”

  “Oh god no,” she said emphatically, “The only thing that can get me away from my books is a direct order from Vindicta the Wrathful herself. I can do something that I think you’ll find quite useful.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can track your witch for you.”

  “Yes!” said Adrian exultantly, putting his palm up. Alanna bumped it confusedly with her fist instead of high-fiving it but he didn’t care. But I saw a problem with that plan.

  “Don’t we need something that has a trace of her spirit in it?” I asked, “Like hair or skin or blood? We don’t have anything like that.”

  “That’s why she called in the big guns,” said Adele, emerging suddenly from the shadows with Hannah, who looked nervous. I jumped, and was steadied by Dominic’s hand at my elbow. Even though I’d lived in the Sanctum all my life, I’d never gotten used to how witches melted in and out of darkness at will. My sisters always beat me at hide and seek. Which wasn’t super relevant at the moment or anything.

  “I’ve got a blood sample from her recent stay in medical,” she said, handing over a tube of ruby red liquid to Alanna, who pocketed it without turning a hair.

  “Um, hate to be the one to ask,” I said nervously as Adele’s sharp glance turned to bore a hole in my face, “But uh, how often do you smuggle your patients’ blood samples to people?”

  “We can discuss doctor-patient confidentiality and the ethical consequences of this some other time,” said Dominic. “Right now let’s concentrate on getting Sophie back.”

  Chapter 24

  I woke up and immediately put a hand to my head. While my entire body felt like someone had taken a sock full of quarters and beat me with it, my head was the part that felt like it was going to explode with pain.

  “Well, this is different,” said a deep, amused voice next to me.

  Obviously, it was Jude. And I must have ended up in his cell a little while ago, still unconscious, because he’d already lit one of his matches, casting us both in the warm glow of its flame.

  “Oh no,” I said, scrambling back. “This is so not happening.”

  “Oh, it most definitely is happening,” said Jude darkly. He reached out and brushed my arm and I squeaked in surprised alarm.

  “Don’t do that,” I said, attempting to sound commanding. “Shit, when did I even come here?”

  “You’ve been here, unconscious for a little while,” said Jude indifferently, “I thought you might have been dead, but clearly not.”

  “I’m sure you were hoping otherwise,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Oh no,” he said smoothly. “What would I do with a corpse in my cell anyway? It would start rotting and stink up the place. Even having you here large as life and twice as annoying is better.”

  “I’m touched,” I deadpanned. “Well, I guess there’s nothing to do except wait until I wake up in real life. In silence.”

  “I’m curious, what brings you here this time?” said Jude, ignoring me. “You’re not usually unconscious when you get here. Did someone knock you out?”

  “They sedated me,” I said grumpily. I still felt woozy from the tranq gun, even in this dream, so I hated to think how I’d feel once I woke up.

  “I understand the impulse,” said Jude, laughter in his voice, “It still seems a little drastic. I thought humans didn’t do that kind of thing, as a rule. Are you especially annoying, then? I’d always suspected as much, but it’s nice to have it confirmed…”

  ‘Humans’? Why was he talking about ‘humans’ like he wasn’t one? It wasn’t going to be of any use to ask him about it directly. Whatever he was, he’d let it slip accidentally, and he’d clam right up again if he knew that I’d noticed.

  “I think I’ve said this before, but I’m a fucking delight. And no, I’ve got no idea what they want from me. But knocking me out—for the second time—isn’t really making me see things their way, you know?”

  “Unfortunately, allies don’t always come in the form you expect them to,” said Jude, yawning and leaning his head against the wall. He was using his crossed palms to cushion the back of his head, and I saw the edge of an intricate looking tattoo that disappeared into his sleeve. “That’s something I’ve learned recently.”

  “They’re never going to be my allies,” I said vehemently.

  “It must be nice to be so certain,” he said, sounding almost wistful for a moment. I looked at him and saw a hint of vulnerability in the line of his cheek, for the first time and felt a stirring of pity.

  That I quickly squashed.

  “Well, would you help them? With whatever they want?”

  “If they could help me get out of this place,” he said, “I would turn the hallowed halls of my father himself to ash if that’s what it takes. In fact, I have. The thing is, little witch, betraying everything and everyone you ever loved isn’t difficult. It’s simply a matter of carving out your heart and giving it to the devil to burn.”

  “What did you give them?” I asked, fascinated.

  “That,” he said, chuckling mirthlessly, “is something I am happily unable to tell you. I’m sure if you know what I’ve done, your big brown eyes would get even bigger and more horrified and you’d never come near me again. I’ve done some evil things, but I’m getting out of here. And soon. The next time you see me, I might be a free man.”

  “Will freedom make you more or less obnoxious?” I wondered. “Or are you going to be monologuing out there too?”

  “Cut me some slack,” he said, soundin
g for the first time like a guy my age, and not like the ancient thesaurus that he usually did, “I’ve been on my own for years without a soul to speak to. That kind of thing would make anyone chatty.”

  “Well, I can’t say I’m happy about whatever you did, but I guess I’m happy for you,” I said, surprising myself.

  “Are you getting sentimental on me?” he asked, sounding equally astonished.

  “No,” I said quickly, “I pity anyone who crosses your path out in the real world, but this cell is so dank that anyone would feel sorry for you.”

  “That’s your cue,” he said, and I looked down.

  A moment later I was blinking against the sudden blaze of fluorescent lights and looking right into Eli’s smug face.

  Chapter 25

  I was tied to a chair in the middle of a bare room with a fluorescent lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. When I tugged at my bindings, I noticed that they were a lot tighter and harder to cut through than last time. Instead of plain rope they were using some kind of plastic fiber material that cut sharply into my wrists and made me wince every time I moved even an inch.

  They were clearly taking no chances with me this time.

  I looked back at Eli, who had his arms crossed and wore an expression of triumph on his face.

  “Can’t find a way to escape this time, can you?”

  “Well, I’ve only been awake for a couple of minutes,” I said, gritting my teeth when I felt a stab in the back of my eye. It seemed to radiate outward until my entire skull felt like it was screaming in pain.

  “The hell is this?” I panted.

  “A special mixture courtesy of the boss. I’ve put a truckload of it in this room. It’s supposed to dampen your powers and make it impossible for you to ‘witch’ your way out of here,” said Eli, looking down at his nails innocently. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

  “I feel like you’re taking things way too personally,” I said, forcing out the words with effort. I was already feeling weak from whatever substance they were poisoning the room with. “Did my escaping your murder dungeon make you look stupid in front of your boss? I’m very, very sorry. You just made it too easy.” I began to laugh. Not the best strategy when dealing with the unhinged henchman of your probably unhinged nemesis, to be honest.