A Lying Witch Book Four

by Odette C. Bell

  He followed her out into the night.

  I waited several seconds, my heart beating so hard in my chest I could have popped it. Then, slowly, my entire body shaking so violently I swore my limbs would fall off, I managed to pull myself out of the pantry.

  I had no idea how long Bridgette’s body-double would be able to hold McCain off for – how long it would take before he realized he wasn’t chasing after me. So I had to use this opportunity – every damn second.

  I threw myself forward, pitched to the side, shoved a hand onto the wall, and pushed off as I hurtled through the corridor and up the stairs.

  On the third-floor landing, I met Bridgette. She was standing facing one of the windows, her hands pressed against it, her eyes closed in unmistakable concentration.

  As I passed, she opened one eye and looked at me. She clenched her teeth and spoke around them, obviously incapable of diverting any more power from her spell, “I’ve got him on the runaround,” she said, breath choppy but voice still audible. “But it won’t last forever. He’s powerful – seriously powerful. Who is he?”

  “No time to explain,” I spat as I ran past her and reached the attic steps. I threw myself up them so quickly, they pounded underneath my footfall, threatening to break.

  I reached the attic, practically rolled onto the floor, then threw myself at the desk.

  The contract was there – just there. I pitched toward it, wrapped my arms around it, and plucked it up. It still weighed nothing more than a feather. A fact I was more than thankful of. I could feel that the wound in the back of my thigh had opened up again. It was now bleeding so quickly I swore I was leaving a trail of blood wherever I walked. I gave the pain slicing through my leg and up into my back no heed. Nor did I pay attention to the nausea washing through me.

  I clenched my teeth, turned with the book pressed against my sternum, and I threw myself down the stairs. I managed to reach Bridgette. She was now hunched over, her shoulders bucking from the stress of keeping the spell going.

  I quickly cast my glance down and saw that her front was covered in blood.

  “I can’t… I can’t hold it,” she stuttered as her whole body began to buck.

  I jolted forward, looped an arm around her middle, and supported her just as the spell cracked with a godawful snap like a bone breaking.

  Bridgette fell against my arm, her blood-soaked middle almost slipping from my grip.

  “Just hold on. Hold on,” I begged in a shaking voice as I pulled her back from the window. Ideally, I needed to set her down somewhere and check her injuries, but I didn’t have that opportunity. The book was still pressed against my chest, locked in place by Bridgette’s weight. I used all my strength and fought against my own injuries to keep pulling her back until we reached the stairs.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I had seconds to get out of this house to my waiting car. Bridgette had no more power left to help me, and when McCain found out what I’d done….

  “Come on,” I bellowed as I shoved into her using all the strength I had to keep her on her feet as I pulled her toward the stairs.

  “Just leave me behind. Get out of here,” she commanded.

  But I wouldn’t listen. There was no way I would lose anyone else to McCain. Not now, not ever.

  I yanked her toward the stairs and reached them just as I swore I heard an echoing scream pitch through the house from downstairs. It was so loud, it sounded as if it belonged to some kind of wild animal. The second I heard it, fear shot through me with all the power of a cannon. “What the hell? What the hell is he?” Bridgette stuttered weakly by my ear.

  “Trust me, there’s no time to explain,” I spat back as I focused all of my energy on getting us down one stair after the other. Between Bridgette and the awkward fact of keeping the book locked against her and in my grip, I was moving crushingly slowly, and every second it took me to walk down one of the stairs was a second my fear arced up louder until it screamed in my mind like an army.

  This would be my only chance to escape. If I failed….

  I reached the second-floor landing, body now so pumped full of fright I could practically taste the adrenaline on the tip of my tongue.

  “Who the hell was that guy? He looked like Max, exactly like Max,” Bridgette said, voice shaking.

  “Trust me – he’s not Max,” I managed in a dark, shaking voice.

  We reached the first-floor landing just as I heard the unmistakable sound of the patio door into the kitchen being blasted off its hinges. Though my body wanted to freeze in fright, there was no way I was going to let it.

  Clenching my teeth with the last of my energy, I shoved Bridgette toward the front door. I didn’t bother to scream, didn’t bother to beg, just concentrated with all my might on that door until my entire universe narrowed down to the wood, handle, and hinges.

  Come on, I begged in my mind. Come on, come on.

  We neared the door. Somehow, providence held, and we reached it.

  I heard Max give a bellow from the kitchen just as I opened the door and shoved outside. And then? Then he started chasing again. I felt his pounding footfall like a hammer between my eyes.

  “Come on,” I screamed at Bridgette.

  Though she was still unquestionably injured, somehow she managed to find the strength to pull away from me and shove forward, leaving me the energy to run and run.

  I put everything into the move, powered forward with all my friggin’ might. I focused on the car. It was parked right outside of the house. And considering Bridgette had zero problem parking on the pavement, she’d driven right up onto the curb until we were just half a meter from the front gate.

  I let my universe narrow down until that front gate was all there was. I blanked out Max’s bellowing scream from behind me. He no longer sounded like a man; he was a caricature of pure rage. And with every second, he was closing the gap between us until he was right there – right behind us.

  Bridgette reached a hand into her pocket. Before I knew what she was doing, she removed something from it, and she twisted on her foot, throwing it behind her.

  My grandmother’s yard was dotted with old, gnarled oak trees and a few elms here or there. The oaks had twisted, large branches, some of them big enough to squash a car flat, let alone a man.

  Bridgette, showing hand-eye coordination that belonged in the goddamn Olympics, threw the object from her pocket right at one of those branches. It exploded in a charge of magical sparks so bright they could have rivaled fireworks.

  The branch broke with an echo of splitting wood. It sailed down and pinned Max.

  Just before my heart could give a shudder at the fact he could be dead, I heard him let out another splitting bellow of rage.

  I felt Bridgette grab a shaking hand onto my arm, and she pulled me toward the car with the last of her strength.

  She got in the passenger seat, though fell was a more appropriate verb.

  I pushed around to the driver’s seat and allowed myself one single second to stare out at Max. I waited until I saw him shove the branch off his body with preternatural strength. Though my heart shouldn’t have, it gave a relieved shudder at the fact he wasn’t dead. He was my enemy – I goddamn knew that. And yet that knowledge couldn’t touch my heart. Because I knew, no matter how evil the bastard was, a part of him was Max. And I was prepared to do anything to save that part.

  I gunned the engine and shot out from the curb just as Max made it past the broken picket fence.

  I swerved to the left before an arc of magic struck the car. I didn’t have to use my abilities as a seer – just my luck. It was enough. With a shrieking, spinning turn, I drove out of sight.

  Bridgette had collapsed in the seat beside me, and I focused all my attention on my hearing as I tried to make out her breath. A second later, I heard it, but it was ragged, choppy as if she could barely find the strength to move her diaphragm up and down, let alone fight her injuries.

  I took my eyes off the road for half a secon
d and stared over at her. Her middle was absolutely covered in blood, and I swore I could see the gap in her belly where her injury would be. There was a bump in the fabric of her top like it was pulled over a chasm.

  “Oh god,” I stuttered. “You’re so injured. Crap, what do I do?” I took one of my hands off the wheel to try to clamp down on her bleeding.

  She gently grabbed my wrist. “I’ve got this,” she said in a falsely calm and strong tone. “Just concentrate on driving. I doubt that bastard’s just going to let us go.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. There was absolutely no way McCain was done with us yet. Or should I say me? I didn’t need to be a seer to know that he would turn this town upside down to get to me, destroying everything in his path until he finally had the future he’d always desired.

  For the first time since I’d seen him in the attic, I let my mind actually entertain the fact I’d never been in a situation like this, faced danger like this. My fight with the Lonely King had been completely different. If I didn’t use every tool at my disposal to fight McCain and save Max, I wouldn’t just be a goner – I would become an automaton for the rest of my life. Worse than that, I’d give McCain the power he’d always sought and always required to take over the world. You might think that sounded overly dramatic, and hey, I would be the first to admit that taking over the world was kind of James Bond. But as I cast my mind back to McCain’s fury, and my body remembered just how much power it had felt lapping off him, I realized that was a distinct possibility. The Lonely King may have been a truly powerful sorcerer, but he was no McCain.

  Bridgette quickly dwindled into silence. Even though I could tell she wanted to question me, she clearly didn’t have the energy.

  I drove faster than I ever had in my life, and for the first time in days, I experienced some much-needed good luck. I didn’t come across any cop cars. I had absolutely no freaking idea what I would do if I were pulled over by a police officer. Not only was my friend sliced through the middle, and not only was I completely covered in blood, but if I allowed myself to stop on the side of the street for too long, I could guarantee that McCain would catch up.

  No, there’d be no pausing now. No catching my breath.

  The contract was in my lap, which probably wasn’t a brilliant idea as it was being jostled every time I madly changed gears. Yet it felt safer there. It felt at hand and reminded me that despite how crazy this situation was, I’d managed to escape McCain. And that meant I could do it again, surely? But more than that – much more than that – I’d done it without my powers.

  Even though I was still very much driving madly, I got the sudden urge to lift up my hands and stare at them. From the day I’d entered this magical world, everyone had told me it was my abilities as a seer that made me special, that would keep me and them safe. But not only was my ability to see the future seriously dangerous, not only did it rob me of my ability to make my own future, but I was also starting to question if it was even necessary. It was with nothing more than my own freaking intelligence and tenacity that I’d managed to escape McCain. So it would be me and my own freaking intelligence that would ultimately defeat him.

  Finally, we reached the witch café. And it was my turn to ride up onto the pavement, bringing the car to a shuddering halt, the tires spinning and churning out smoke.

  I plowed out of the front seat, twisted around the vehicle, opened the door, and stared down at Bridgette. One of her hands was limply and loosely pressed against her copiously bleeding stomach, and yet somehow, she still managed a smile. “Remind me never to drive with you on a full stomach,” she quipped. “And I thought I was an aggressive driver.”

  I managed a small smile as I looped an arm under hers and helped pull her to her feet. With my other arm, I kept the book locked against my sternum. The more my skin pressed against it, the more I felt something. And it was a truly strange sensation. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It wasn’t that I was feeling age or power or magic or anything so simple. Just… something important. Something that would ultimately make the difference for everyone.

  Immediately, the door to the café opened, and Sarah Anne spilled out followed by several witches. The witches rushed over to Bridgette and took her from me.

  Sarah headed for me, her face pale with worry.

  Before Sarah could loop an arm under mine to help me, Bridgette gave a sudden groan and collapsed between the two witches.

  “Oh my god,” Sarah spluttered as she shot forward, scooted down to her knees, and wrapped a supportive arm around Bridgette’s back.

  Bridgette fell forward and passed out in Sarah’s arms.

  Sarah screamed in frustration, calling for the other witches to come to her aid. Then she reached toward me.

  I waved a hand at her. “No, it’s okay. I can make it through the doorway on my own,” I said. Even though my body was still wracked with nausea, I honestly did feel strong enough to walk on my own two feet. “You’ve got to help Bridgette.”

  “She needs medical attention now,” Sarah snapped at the witches as they tucked their arms underneath Bridgette’s and started to drag her through the door.

  Sarah faced me. She bit her lips into a grim line. “What happened,” she said in a quiet tone that didn’t carry.

  Though I wasn’t jealous of Sarah and Max, I still didn’t exactly know how far their relationship went. Had Max ever confided in Sarah what he was? That he wasn’t a fairy, that he was somehow the split off form of a sorcerer king from centuries past?

  Suffice to say, I didn’t answer Sarah. I tilted my head down and stared at my feet as she helped shepherd me back to the room where Max was waiting.

  As soon as I saw him, relief and yet fear bolted through me. “We have the contract,” I said as I gestured to it. It was still in my arms. “We need to do this quickly. We need to get Max back on his feet and get out of here now.”

  Sarah turned to me as she set me down on a plush chair and took several steps back. “There’s nothing to fear, seer. It’s safe here. As you already said, the Lonely King has been brought down.”

  Bridgette was placed down on one of the sofas. She was so still, I’d assumed she’d lost consciousness. Suddenly, she pulled herself onto her elbows. “Safe, my ass. Something came after us at Chi’s house. It was…” Bridgette couldn’t finish her sentence. She twisted her hand and locked her frightened gaze on Max. It was obvious she was checking to see that he was still there. Still on her elbows, even though her body was bucking back and forth from the effort of holding her up, she stared at me. “Who the hell was that guy back there? He looked exactly like Max. How the heck is that possible? What the hell is going on?” She spat her questions one after the other, and as she asked them, I felt colder and colder.

  On the mention that there was a man who looked exactly like Max, Sarah stiffened.

  Bridgette didn’t notice. None of the other witches noticed, either. But I did.

  I saw Sarah’s back straighten, saw a lump form in her throat as she swallowed a breath.

  Though Bridgette continued to question me, I ignored her and kept all of my attention locked on Sarah until I forced my lips to part. “You knew about this, didn’t you? Knew he wasn’t a real fairy? Knew about his connection to that sorcerer king from the past?” I managed.

  Sarah turned to me, but it was a long, protracted move. It was almost as if she had to convince every single muscle in her body to contract so she could manage the movement. When she finally faced me, I saw how ashen her face was, how locked with fear her lips and mouth and eyes and brow had become.

  Though Bridgette had been halfway through demanding some answers again, now she stopped. In fact, everyone in the room stopped as they all stared at Sarah.

  “You knew,” I said once more, voice weak but gaze intense. “You knew he isn’t a fairy. Why didn’t you tell me?” I added through clenched teeth.

  I watched Sarah breathe. It was a heavy, labored move as if somebody had punctured o
ne of her lungs. She brought up a sweaty, white-knuckled hand and locked it on her chest. She took one more breath, tilted her head down, and then shook her head. “He didn’t tell me; I figured it out. You have to remember that I’m older than I look,” she said hesitantly. “And I can never forget. I’ve known Max for decades. Knew him even before he became the bodyguard of your grandmother.”

  I paled. Though I’d kind of figured out that Sarah was probably older than she looked, I hadn’t realized she was that old.

  “Max’s memory loss – it was never normal, couldn’t be the mere activity of using his powers. It was too directed.”

  “Too convenient,” we both said at the same time.

  She tilted her head down, locked her gaze on me, and nodded slowly. “Too convenient. There were other clues, too, other evidence he wasn’t quite normal.”

  “What other evidence?” I frowned as my heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t have seen the shadow, could she?

  It was her turn to tilt her head back and face me with all her attention. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you? That’s how you figured it all out.”

  I pressed my lips together and swallowed. “The shadow?” I questioned.

  She nodded. “The shadow.”

  “What the hell are you two talking about?” Bridgette demanded. She threatened to stand, but Sarah brought both her hands up in a placating motion.

  “You’re almost split through. You just lie there. There is too much going on for me to lose you now, Bridgette. We will need you at your fighting best if we have any chance of getting through this, saving Chi, and saving this city.” Sarah twisted her head, and a contorted, fearful expression crumpled her features. “And saving Max,” she added in a quiet, distant tone that sent a thrill of fear spiking down my back.

  It was my turn to threaten to get to my feet. “You mean there’s a chance? A chance to save him?”

  Sarah twisted her head and faced me in full. A frown pressed across her lips, and it was obvious she was assessing me with all her power. “That really depends on you,” she said. She nodded down at the contract in my hands. “That will be enough to hold off McCain for now. It won’t work forever. You’ll have to take him down.” She never let her gaze deviate as she stared at me, as everyone in the room stared at me.