This must be the tree Gemma threatened to put Mac into if he didn’t help Reyna possess me.
She uses my legs to step closer to the tree, and as she does, something starts to buzz in the air. At first, it sounds like a hoard of bees. As we draw closer, I recognize the buzz as human speech. Then, as we draw nearer still, those human voices turn into screams. The branches twist in a wind that isn’t there, and the wails grow louder.
Something drives into my gut, and once again, I fan out, stopping Reyna’s advance.
She clenches my hands into fists.
“Kinsley…”
For some reason, I can’t express my thoughts to her. But I’m certain she can feel what I’m feeling.
Raw fear.
Regret.
No way am I letting her do this.
Reyna sighs. “You have no idea what that woman is.” She takes in a deep breath and points her newly-made wand at my legs. They jar free of my influence, and she continues forward. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you stop me.”
Suddenly, it’s like I’m taking up even less space inside my body than that tiny dot. All I can do is feel. Feel my limbs move under Reyna’s command. Feel a flood of relief that’s definitely coming from her.
She kneels at the base of the tree and takes three vials from my jeans pocket. Uncorking them, she splatters them in the earth supporting the tree and leans back. The branches howl and spit flames, then a large gap appears in the center of the trunk. Flames glow orange and light blue inside, and the screaming roars louder.
In the small space I’ve been allowed to take up in my own body, I cringe. I wish I could plug my ears, wish that Reyna would plug them, but to my dismay, she seems to relish in the noise. The wind kicks us, and the branches lash out at us, dropping small flames in the grass that quickly fizzle out.
Reyna reaches back into my pocket and pulls out the last vial. She squeezes my hand around it and practically drools.
“Finally,” she breathes in her raspy voice.
I’m helpless to do anything as she pops the top from the vial. Slowly, she leans toward the tree and holds the vial in front of the gap. I swear the tree grows a set of gaping invisible eyes. It seems to inspect the vial. The wind rushes against my body, almost as if the tree is inhaling the contents of the vial’s scent.
Then a branch licks out from the gap, snatches the vial from my waiting hand, and rushes back inside. The gap closes, and Reyna holds up the wand and starts to circle the tree.
She mumbles something in another language. For some reason, this time I understand.
Accept this soul to the Affliction Tree.
Three times three, the punishment be.
If will, and heart, and soul agree…
Accept this offering to the Affliction Tree.
The branches lash out again, and then swing upward into the air. Its veins rush the black liquid from the vial to every corner. Then Reyna holds my hand up. A branch dips down to meet it. The tree takes the wand and melts it into the black wood of its trunk, then tiny black sparks rain down on us like black diamonds.
Behind us, footsteps and shouts draw near.
Reyna smiles. “Hello,” she says without turning around.
Silence greets her.
Still, I can feel fear and fury emanating from the bodies behind us. There are at least three.
“What have you done?” Gemma finally asks in a tight voice.
As soon as I hear her voice, I notice it. Pain. Pain so striking, she’s barely on her feet. Slowly, Reyna turns my body around. Her smile stretches so wide my lips hurt.
“The tree has accepted you.”
Gemma, the witch that had been tormenting me the last few hours, goes white as a cotton ball.
Victoria steps forward and raises her wand. “You will not get away with this.”
Behind his sister, Mac remains silent. He just stares at us—me—with wide, surprised eyes.
Reyna laughs. “I’m afraid I already have.”
Victoria whips her wand hand out. A blast of pea soup-colored energy zips toward my body. Reyna just stands there, and the energy bounces off some invisible wall and flings itself right back at her. Victoria goes rigid like someone being electrocuted, then her entire body tints green, and she starts vomiting all over herself.
Reyna claps her hands and laughs. “Even the great Harkers can’t do much against a ghost in a body that has an affinity for magic.” She narrows her eyes. “And by the way, I haven’t forgiven you, Mac. You’re lucky I didn’t feed you to the tree, as well.”
Gemma lets out a scream and sinks to her knees. As if tied to an invisible rope, her body starts sliding toward the tree’s open mouth. It pulses, the fires burning brighter, the screams loud enough to shatter glass.
“Please,” Gemma pleads in a gruff voice. “Please.”
Reyna steps my body out of Gemma’s path and narrows my eyes down at her. “This is for Jacob, you cold bitch.”
Gemma lets out a scream that rivals all the screams pouring from the Affliction Tree. She’s flipped onto her stomach and holds her arms out toward Mac.
“Son!” she rasps. “My boy! Please help me.”
Mac just stands there.
Reyna bends my body down and plants a kiss on Gemma’s cheek, then the witch is snapped onto her back and dragged into the tree’s open gap.
It seals itself after her, but it doesn’t keep in her screams. Those screams fill the night with a collective dread that makes me nauseous. As long as I live, I will never forget Gemma Harker’s scream as the Affliction Tree claimed her for itself.
THE SCREAMS FROM the tree go on for what feels like hours. It’s funny how a few hell-filled seconds can make time stretch. Make it go on forever.
The tree stops screaming and fills the night with an empty quiet that is almost as bad.
Almost.
Victoria stops vomiting and spits threats at Reyna. Mac hasn’t been able to move for the past few minutes.
Reyna shakes out my curls and grins. She holds up a hand to stop Victoria’s blabbering. “Threatening a dead girl is even dumber than that time you turned yourself into a food truck.” She shifts my eyes to Mac. “I guess this makes us even.”
With that, she starts to walk away.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Victoria screams after her. “Bring my mother back!”
Reyna pauses, and then turns around and lifts one of my eyebrows.
“You know how the tree works. Your family created it, after all. Once the tree decides to claim a soul, there is no going back. It’s not like all the times your mother warped its magic and put innocent people in there for punishment. This is final.” She turns around and walks back through the black door.
Victoria screams more threats after her. Reyna ignores her.
“Hold on tight, Kinsley,” she mutters.
I would ask for what, but of course I can’t. Then I feel an intense pressure on my limbs. It’s a sensation I’ve grown quite familiar with tonight. It presses me down and spits me out.
Then we are inside a glass enclosed room on the roof of the Harker estate. Flowers droop in the breeze all around us. In the middle of the room is a hat I recognize. The hat Gemma Harker trapped me in only hours ago.
Charming fills my mind, and I want to race toward it. Instead, the air around me grows thin, and I hit the floor and slink down into darkness.
WHEN I WAKE up, I’m shivering and staring up at a nearly translucent figure with black and purple hair that blows in a wind that only exists around her. She’s wearing a see-through, lavender dress that billows at her ankles and a kind smile on her coral lips.
Reyna.
I blink up at her. My body feels like tires that have been slashed. The air rushes out of me, leaving only emptiness. Like something is missing, which I suppose, is the case.
I clear my throat and open my mouth to speak, but words don’t come. My head is spinning.
Reyna leans over
me and lifts my head from the ground.
“Don’t try to speak. It can take a while to get your bearings after a possession, even if it was a benevolent one.”
I wouldn’t say benevolent. In fact, I’m surprised she held up her end of the bargain, that she didn’t try to wear my skin forever.
“I’m a woman of my word,” she says with a frown. “Well, at least I was.”
My eyes widen, and she shrugs. “Your thoughts have somehow opened up to me. A temporary thing, I assure you.”
I clear my throat again. “Good,” I choke out.
She raises her hands, and Gemma’s hat floats above her palms. “Now it’s time to uphold my end of the bargain.”
I stare at the hat. A feeling of unease slides into my belly. “He’s in there, isn’t he?”
She nods, a grave expression painting her translucent face.
Something dawns on me, and I narrow my eyes at her. “And I need Gemma to get him out, don’t I?”
She looks down.
Fury burns like a furnace inside me. “And you couldn’t have gotten him out before you damned her to that tree?”
She looks up with wide eyes like she’s searching for understanding. “I had to work quickly before she became aware of what I was doing. You understand, don’t you?”
I struggle to sit up. I want to bash her face in, but unfortunately she’s a ghost. The world simply doesn’t work that way.
“No, I don’t understand,” I hiss. “This wasn’t the deal.”
She holds her hands up. “Listen, all you really need is a witch. It won’t be as easy. But because Gemma isn’t technically the owner of this trap anymore, any witch can open it.”
She says it like it’s good news. I close my eyes then snap them open. “Where the hell am I supposed to find a witch?”
Reyna frowns. “Well, you are on an estate full of them.”
I sigh. She can’t be serious. “Yeah, witches that just saw my body placing their mother in the hell tree!”
“Affliction Tree.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Reyna stands and sighs. “I have a feeling you’ll find a way.” She smiles in a sad sort of way. “Thank you for letting me use your body. You’ve no idea how many wrongs you’ve helped right.” She leans down and places Gemma’s witch trap in my hands. “Good luck.”
My jaw clenches, and I’m just about to let out a storm of curse words upon her. But when I look up, she’s gone.
Ghosts and witches. I’ve had enough of them for one night. Hell, for the rest of my life. I stare down at the hat and turn it around in my hands. My eyes get narrower and narrower, as if the powers of concentration can somehow help me jail break Charming from this trap.
Every muscle in my body tightens, and my limbs begin to shake. Just when it feels like I’m about to explode, something burns in my pocket. I reach down and pat the outside of my jeans. A rush of warm energy surges into my fingers, and I jerk them away, waving my hand in the air like I just touched a hot stove.
The burning sensation dies down, and I reach into my pocket and squeeze my hand around something hard. I pull it out and stare at Charming’s rose. The one he made for me out of quartz crystal. My entire body starts to tingle, and the rose pulses with indigo light. Staring into the stone, Charming’s voice pops into my head.
When you start to lose who you are, remember the touch.
I grip the rose tighter.
What did he mean by that?
With the hat in one hand and the rose in the other, my gaze darts between the two, trying to make sense of his words. Then I close my eyes as something obvious snaps into place.
Touch magic. He wanted me to remember the touch magic.
But why? My hand tightens around the hat. Biting down on my lip, I lower it slowly to the ground as if damaging it can somehow hurt Charming.
And for all I know, it might. I know exactly jack about witch traps.
“Okay,” I say out loud to the hat. “I’m remembering the magic.”
The sound of voices coming from the front lawn steals my attention. It’s a female voice yelling. Getting up on my hands and knees, I crawl toward the edge of the roof and peer over.
Victoria, covered in vomit, is ranting at a group of people who each wear varying shades of bewilderment on their faces. Behind her, Mac is trying to calm her down. It doesn’t appear to be going so well.
“Find her! I want her found!” Victoria spins in a circle, sending a spray of throw up onto her guests.
Some of them shriek and duck out of the way.
“Shit,” I mutter, backing away from the edge. I crawl toward the hat and take it in my hands. “Okay, I’m remembering the touch. I’m remembering the touch.” I continue to stare at the hat.
Nothing happens.
I frown.
Of course, I’m pretty sure Charming’s advice was for possession, not breaking him out of an evil witch trap. Still, I’ve got nothing else. None of the Harker witches are going to help me. Not even Mac, after I feed his mother to an evil tree.
I close my eyes and take in deep breaths.
Charming spirals into my memory. The feel of him against my naked body. The tingle down my spine each time our lips touched. The spark I felt when I touched his back in Creeper’s front yard.
Touch magic.
I bring it back through the only power I have right now. Memory. Before long, he becomes more than just someone occupying space in my head. He’s figuratively right in front of me. Twirling his fingers through my curls. Laying me back and moaning against my ear.
My body reacts to the memory, setting my teeth on edge, and making every inch of my body tighten with desire. I stare up into his deep blue eyes and start to fall away from him. An unnatural pressure sinks into my skin. My eyes shoot open, and I gasp, staring into a halo of flickering green light.
I fall through the hat, and my stomach flies into my throat. As I tumble through space, I brace my body for impact. Then I bounce onto something soft and slide forward, face-planting into wet grass.
Footsteps rush toward me. “Kinsley?”
The pain I should surely feel takes a backseat in my brain. My head snaps up as he rushes toward me. I smile. “Charming.”
He reaches down and pulls me to my feet, cupping my face and running his thumbs up and down my cheeks. “Is it you?”
I nod, my eyes searching his face to make sure he’s real. That he’s really in front of me and not just some memory I’m manifesting.
He frowns and tilts his head. “Is it all you?”
With a small smile, I nod again. “Yes, Reyna has come and gone.”
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
I shrug, pressing my palms against his chest. It’s the first time in a few hours that I’ve felt steady. “I mean, we made a deal.”
The frown lines at the sides of his mouth deepen. “It’s never a good idea to deal with the dead.”
“I didn’t really have a choice.”
“What kind of deal did you make?” he asks.
I sigh. “Does it matter?” I kick at the ground. “It’s done.”
He draws me closer, and it becomes that much harder to breathe. “And you feel like you? There are no…” He shakes his head and searches my face, as if he’s looking for the words to say. “Traces of Reyna inside you?”
I frown. “Should there be?”
He sighs. “There usually are.” He steps away from me and clenches his jaw. “I can’t believe you were willing to let her possess you. After everything you went through last year!” His eyes blaze with anger that almost burns me.
I scoff. This wasn’t exactly the welcome I expected. “Hey! I did it for you!”
“For me?” There are rough edges in his voice. He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have done it for me.”
He might as well drive his fist through my chest and give me a heart punch.
“Oh.” I say, looking down and twisting my fingers. “Okay.”
He sighs again. “No, I don’t mean…”
He reaches out for me again, but this time I don’t look up at him. I’m afraid of what I might see.
“I mean you shouldn’t have put yourself in danger for me.”
My heart that had grown heavy like stone, lightens a bit at his words. I shrug. “I had to.”
“I know.”
I risk looking up at him. The expression on his face makes butterfly wings tickle my heart strings. I don’t know how he can manage to look so loving at a girl he barely knows—a girl who ditched him for drugs—but he does.
He smiles. The same look must be written on my own face. I don’t understand any of this. The touch magic. The way I feel drawn to him, but I no longer care.
The best and worst things in life rarely make sense. If we were rational beings as we claim to be, we’d miss out on so much good. Like this. The feel of him gazing down at me, a mix of awe and frustration painting his face. I think I’d take on a ghost any day of the week to win that look from him.
Despite the warmness that comes from being this close to him, a shiver creeps in through my skin. That’s when I notice how damp my skin is. And that I’m shaking. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.
Withdrawal symptoms.
The last thing I need right now.
“Are you okay?” Charming’s arms wrap around me.
I look down, too ashamed to look him in the eye. “No,” I say in a small voice.
He reaches up the sleeves of my jacket and presses his fingers lightly to my bare skin. Every spot he touches fills me with a warm fuzz, like the second any of my little white pills kick in. It’s the second I know I’m going to be okay.
“It’s the drugs.” He doesn’t make it a question.
Gulping, I nod.
“I can take it away,” he says in a soft voice.
Too soft, considering I ditched him for them. If it were me, I’d be angrier. Hell, if it were me I would have stolen his pills.
For a moment, I want to tell him yes. I want him to take the edge away. But that seems too easy. Too much like taking drugs. Why white-knuckle it for one thing, only to run to something else
I shake my head. “No.”
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 185