by Sarra Cannon
I turned back and squinted. There, in the shadows, stood a young girl. She couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old. My lips parted. What kind of monster would imprison a child?
I pulled my feet under me and pushed my back against the stone wall. My muscles were weakened and quivering, but with the support of the wall, I was finally on my feet.
I lowered my arms, my hands pulsing as the blood rushed back into them. My head spun and I had to close my eyes again and take several deep breaths. I waited, letting my blood redistribute itself through my body, concentrating on that tiny spark of power still lit inside my core. That spark was all that mattered right now. Not the pain or the discomfort. Not the hunger that gnarled at my stomach. Nothing else mattered but the power.
When I felt better, I rolled my shoulders out, my joints cracking.
Okay, I was up. Now what?
I turned my attention to the chains and shackles that held me to the wall. There had to be a way out.
There was just enough give in the chains when I was standing to allow me to move a few steps forward and to each side. I moved carefully, testing my boundaries without making much sound.
The chains rattled slightly, and I slowed, making very deliberate movements.
I had enough space to turn around and study the way the chains were embedded into the wall. I reached up and pulled on them, knowing it would be way too easy if I could just pull them off.
The thick links of chain were hooked to a metal plate bolted into the stone. The metal looked old and rusted in some places, covered with dirt and blood in others, but it was sturdy and strong, showing no signs of give or damage.
I looked over and saw the child in the opposite cell staring at me. She had moved closer to the front now, her small hands grasping the iron as her head rested against the bars.
She didn't seem to have any chains around her arms or legs, like I did.
Of course, her wrists were so skinny, she could have just slipped out of any chains.
I twisted my wrists around inside the shackles to see if I could possibly wiggle my hands through, but it was no use. The metal shackles were way too freaking tight. Even if I dislocated my thumb, I’d never be able to pull free.
Maybe I could use magic to get them off.
I didn't know much about how to control my magical powers, but what I'd done so far had mostly come instinctively. So, what did I know about magic? I knew how to do glamours, but a glamour would only hide or cover things, it couldn’t actually change the substance of them.
When I got angry or emotional, I could control or manipulate the wind, but even a tornado wouldn’t get me out of these chains unless I managed to bring the whole damn building down. Which would kill me and everyone down here. That might be a good option if I was totally out of others, but I wasn’t ready to choose suicide over impending ritual sacrifice just yet.
Wind wasn’t the answer.
Women in my family were all supposed to be able to shift into the form of a crow. I’d seen both Mary Anne and my mother do it, but I had no idea how to make myself shift.
Still, it was worth a shot. If I became a crow, the chains would slide right off. I might even be able to fly through the iron bars of my cell and find a window.
Hope lifted my heart.
I could do this.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I concentrated on the warm spark of energy inside me. Like when I'd used a glamour to change my eye color, I used the power of my imagination. I imagined myself turning into a crow. I pictured sleek, black wings spreading from my back as my body grew smaller. I pictured a beak and dark feathers. I imagined myself slipping from the chains and flying free.
But nothing happened.
Frustrated, I opened my eyes and balled my hands into fists. How hard could this be, really? If everyone—even a teenage girl like Mary Anne—could do this, surely I could do it, too. It was part of my heritage. I was a crow witch.
There had to be some trick to it that I wasn’t getting.
I turned and leaned my back against the stone wall for support. I raised my arms to the side as if they were wings and closed my eyes. I calmed the panic and fear in my chest as best I could and tried again.
The spark of power in my core spread outward like fingers of energy, reaching toward my arms and legs. I imagined that energy blossoming, changing me from the inside out.
But something held me back.
I couldn’t explain it or put my finger on it exactly, but I knew something was wrong. It was as if my magic had been muzzled.
“You can't cast magic in here, if that's what you're trying to do,” a small voice said in a slight British accent.
I opened one eye and peered over at the child in the opposite cell. “Why not?”
She shrugged. “Don't know. You just can't,” she said. “No one can but them.”
“Them who?”
She looked to her left, as if making sure no one was listening. “The vampires,” she said in a whisper.
I bit the inside of my lip. No magic. That was definitely not good news.
“Do you know where we are?” I stepped forward as far as my chains would let me go.
She shook her head.
“Do you know how long I've been here?”
She glanced up toward the ceiling. “About day, I think,” she said. “You've been sleeping. I thought maybe you were dead there for a while.”
I nodded. “Me, too,” I said with a laugh. “I'm Franki, by the way.”
“I'm Annabelle,” she said.
“How old are you Annabelle? If you don't mind me asking.”
“Eight,” she said. “Or at least I think I turned eight already. I tried to keep track of the days, but it's hard because there isn't any light.”
My heart ached for this girl. Had she really been in here so long she wasn't even sure if she'd had a birthday? “You've been in here a while?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes going shiny with tears.
“All alone?”
She nodded again. “My mum used to be in the cell next to me, but the guards took her away a few days ago,” she said. She swiped at her face and sniffed. “I don't think she's coming back.”
I swallowed back tears of my own.
The Devil truly is a monster.
I clenched my teeth and pulled hard against the chains. I was going to make him pay for this. I was going to find a way out of this cell, and I was going to make him suffer.
I threw all my weight against the chains, not caring that the shackles were cutting into my skin. I ignored the pain and fought as hard as I could. I pulled and clawed at the ancient handcuffs, begging my hands to slip through.
But it was no use.
My head fell against the stone as I struggled to catch my breath. I was trapped. Powerless. Dead on arrival.
In the distance, a door creaked open. I froze and listened.
Across from me, Annabelle slipped back into the shadows.
Shoes clicked against the stones as someone walked through the dungeon toward my cell. I pressed my back against the wall. My knees trembled and nearly buckled beneath me.
I told myself not to be afraid, but who was I kidding? Impending death by ritual was one of those occasions where I think you're allowed to be scared. I was lucky I hadn't peed my pants.
But as the footsteps drew closer, I straightened my shoulders, determined not to let them see how frightened I really was.
If this was the end of my life, I wanted to face it with strength.
And, if possible, I wanted to end as many of theirs as I could before I died.
Starting with the woman who'd just stepped in front of the iron bars of my cell.
Chapter 11
Revenge
I had never felt such hatred in my life.
The spark of power at my core roared to life, its flames licking at the surface of my skin. For a moment, I wondered if I might be burned alive by my own rage.
M
y mother smiled at me through the bars of my cell. “You have no idea how long I've waited to see you locked up inside this cage, little bird,” she said. “Three long years I've been planning for this moment. I can hardly believe the time has finally come.”
My veins strained against my skin, the magic inside of me begging to be let loose.
“Why?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Revenge,” she said. “For every day of my life I sacrificed for you.”
I flinched. What kind of woman could want revenge from her own child? “I never did anything to you,” I said.
“You were born,” she said. “Isn't that enough?”
I clenched my fists tighter. “Isn't that partially your fault?” I asked. “Since you were the one who gave birth to me?”
She moved closer, placing a hand on the bars. “I keep forgetting you don't know the truth.”
My heart went cold. “What are you talking about?”
“I was not the one who gave birth to you, Franki,” she said, laughter in her voice. As if breaking my heart was a thing of joy. “You were born in the crow village to a young woman named Mary Kathryn. She held you. She nursed you. And then, like some cruel joke, the Mother Crow snatched you from her arms and handed you to me, a rebellious loser who had disobeyed the rules one too many times. You were my punishment for all the sins of my childhood.”
My mouth fell open and a strangled cry escaped my throat.
“I honestly thought you'd be happy to hear the news,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Where is she now?” I asked. “Is she still alive?”
She walked down the length of the cell, her hand trailing along each bar. “Yes. In fact, I think you've seen her,” she said.
I stopped breathing for a moment. “What?”
“At Venom that first night,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “The Devil had finally located Solomon's stone and we were preparing to kidnap you and bring you here, but your real mother intervened at the last minute. I don't know how she even knew you were in danger, but I guess she'd been keeping an eye on us both. Her little stunt put a temporary halt to our plans, especially when Rend asked you to come work for him.”
I stared ahead in a daze. “She's the one who sent me those flowers,” I whispered.
“Yes, sending you right into the arms of the one vampire she thought could keep you safe,” she said. “Little bird was actually her name for you. She called you that the moment you were born.'
Tears welled up in my eyes. How long had she been watching me? How many times had I been in the same room with her and not even known it?
“God knows she would never be strong enough to protect you on her own. Poor Mary Kathryn. Her pregnancy with you was extremely difficult. It practically killed her, growing such an evil seed in her belly. She used to be the Mother Crow's golden child, destined for great things. She was showered with love and attention, groomed for an important role in the family. But she chose the wrong mate.”
I closed my eyes, a single tear escaping down my cheek. “Solomon.”
“Yes. She had no idea who he was, of course. It was her duty to get pregnant and Mary Kathryn was merely doing as she was told,” she said. “Back then, the Mother Crow sent all the girls out of the village when they turned eighteen. They were instructed to find a strong man, get pregnant, and return home. The Mother Crow didn't want men living in our village, so it was the easiest way to continue the family line.”
I shook my head, disgusted. It sounded barbaric. Girls who had never once been allowed to leave the safety and confinement of their small village were sent out at eighteen to find a man and get pregnant? Never allowed to love or have a normal family life with a husband and children?
“Don't look so horrified. We all grew up knowing it was our duty,” she said. “We also knew that if you gave birth to a boy, he was immediately offered up to the Mother Crow to be used as a blood sacrifice. If you gave birth to a baby girl, she would take her place in the family.”
Her voice grew sad and she looked down at the floor of the dungeon.
“My first and only child was a boy,” she said. “I still remember the moment he was taken from my arms. He was so chubby and pink and lovely.”
There was more tenderness in her voice for that lost child than I had ever heard from her the entire time she'd raised me as her own. I couldn't imagine the horror of having your child taken like that, but my sympathy for what she'd been through was tainted by the fact that she'd been planning the details of my death for the past three years.
“I begged the Mother Crow for another chance to have a child of my own. A daughter to raise.” She laughed and wiped away a tear. “Instead, she gave me you. A baby whose very existence was cursed from the moment of conception.”
I swallowed back words of hatred.
“I resented you from the moment you were first placed in my arms,” she said. “The Mother Crow cast a spell binding me to you until your eighteenth birthday when you would come of age. The spell ruined my womb, making sure I would never have another child that might distract me from my duty of taking care of you.”
“Why did she send me away?” I asked. “I don't understand.”
“Because your life put every crow in that village at risk,” she said. “When she first found out Mary Kathryn was pregnant with Solomon's baby, she had to make sure he would never come after you. She hunted him down and bound his spirit in a stone. But she knew others would eventually come looking for you. She was willing to risk my life, but not her own.”
“You were the one who told the Devil about me,” I said.
“I was supposed to hide you and make sure you never used your magic and could never be tracked,” she said. “I did such a good job, not even the Mother Crow could find you. She trusted me to return you to the crows when you turned eighteen, but I wasn't about to hand such a powerful asset over to the monster who had murdered my son and destroyed my youth.”
“Instead, you found another monster.” Bile rose in my throat.
My false mother turned to me, a triumphant smile spreading across her treacherous mouth.
“Instead, I became a monster,” she said. “And through your death, I will finally gain enough power to take my revenge on the crows, once and for all.”
Chapter 12
Nothing Here But Nightmares
New footsteps sounded on the stone. I counted each foot-fall until the edge of a boot came into view, followed by the rest of the weaselly servant I knew as Fallon.
He put one hand on my mother's shoulder and smiled. His white skin looked in the dim lighting.
“Someone’s awake,” he said. “The Devil will be pleased. He’s very close to finishing his preparations for the ritual and he needs for you to be wide awake when he pierces your heart and bleeds you dry.”
I swallowed back any signs of fear and met his stare. “Fallon. It’s so nice to see you again,” I said. “You look so much more at home in a creepy dungeon. It matches your pasty coloring.”
“I see the sleep spell hasn’t slowed your tongue,” he said. He raised a thin eyebrow at me. “I would have liked to be the one silencing it for you.”
“You aren’t worthy of my death,” I said. “You know as well as I do that if I’d had time to fully learn to use my powers, neither one of us would be standing here right now.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But that’s something we’ll never know, will we?”
I raised an eyebrow right back at him. “Time will tell.”
He laughed. The empty sound echoed through the dungeons, and for the first time, I heard the movement of others in nearby cells.
“Who else is down here with us?” I asked, wondering what the girl across from me, and the others locked down here, had done to deserve such torture.
Fallon shrugged and glanced down the corridor. “Other witches. Ones less powerful than yourself. Or rather, witches who have a less significant heritage.”
“Are
they a part of this ritual, too? Or is it just me who has that honor today?”
“We have prisoners of all kinds,” Fallon said. “Some are witches we wish to punish. We drain them of their blood until they are almost dead. We make them cry for mercy and beg to die. Then we let them live. We let their blood replenish so that in a few months, we can drain them all over again,” he said. A wicked smile lit his entire face as he spoke. “Others are here only as meals. None have the rare privilege of being held for ritual sacrifice such as yourself, but they may yet be of use to the Devil today. When he awakens Solomon’s power from the stone, he might find Solomon’s thirst after twenty years of solitude is quite strong. If his new host is to survive, she will need blood to sustain her.”
My stomach twisted. His new host?
I closed my eyes, understanding how this all fit together. My mother—I had no other name for her despite the lie of calling her that—had traded information for ultimate power.
“In fact, you may know some of the witches we've reserved as snacks for after the ritual,” she said. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go upstairs and get ready as well.”
She turned and disappeared from view, her heels clicking on the stone.
I jerked my head toward Fallon, panic seizing my chest.
“Who was she talking about?” My voice hitched on the words even though I’d sworn not to show any signs of weakness or fear.
“Some of your friends from the club,” he said, lifting a finger for each one he counted off. “Misty. Shay. And what was the other one’s name? Something that reminds me of a flower. Lilac? Oh, I can’t remember.”
My heart stopped beating for a moment.
“Lyla?” I whispered her name.
“Ah, yes, that’s the one,” he said. “Tricky little bitch, really. She has this nasty ability to control minds. It took a few of our senior vampires to catch her, but she’ll make a wonderful meal when the time comes.”
He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and held them up, but I could barely see through the angry tears that welled up in my eyes.