by J. L. Weil
Torent joined our hands. “Let’s get the show on the road.”
Chapter 16
Mrs. Augustine stood inside a charred circle as if she had burned it into the ground. Since she made no move to leave the ring, the three of us joined her in the middle. My eyes immediately went to the sacred blade in her hand.
Son of a bitch.
I gulped, and Torent’s hand tightened in mine.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured.
Mrs. Augustine handed the blade to Torent first. “Remember, I must do the spell when the moon is at its highest, giving us just under an hour. We don’t have time to waste.”
Torent released my hand and took the offered dagger without blinking. He flipped it over his hand, making a smooth slit across his palm as if he’d done it a million times before. Not even a flicker of pain shone in his expression. As he clenched his fist, the blood flowed, dripping into an iron goblet Mrs. Augustine had brought with her. The drip, drip, drip of Torent’s blood hitting metal had my stomach pitching.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“You’d make the worst vamp,” Beck joked. He was standing on the other side of me, assuming a supportive stance identical to Torent’s.
“I’m still not convinced you’re an actual wolf,” Torent said, before turning to me. “Your turn, love.” The encouraging smile on his lips warmed my cold blood slightly, and the endearment helped.
I nodded, my eyes shifting to the knife he held out. My fingers trembled as I wrapped them around the cool and smooth hilt. The wood was heavier than I’d expected. The dagger shook as I clenched it tighter, bringing it to lie over the inside of my palm. My fingers curled over the blade, and all I had to do was pull it out. I inhaled, my lips trembling, and the world seemed to hold its breath with me, going still.
“I-I can’t do it. Here,” I quailed, unfurling my hand and outstretching the dagger to Torent. “You do it.”
“Are you sure?”
I shoved out my hand. “Yes,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut while I waited for the pain.
It was quick, a surprise sting that startled me more than hurt, and was followed by a gentle squeezing of my hand. I didn’t open my eyes until Torent pressed a kiss to the center of my palm.
“All done,” he murmured.
My lashes fluttered, and I found myself captured in a sea of violet starlight. His eyes held mine and steadied my pulse.
“Thank you,” I mouthed.
He only gave a slight incline of his head before turning toward Mrs. Augustine, who was waiting at the heart of her spellbound circle. Taking the goblet with both hands, she tilted her head to the moon and the stars.
“To the winds of change, I call thee tonight.
To the spirits from the other side, I summon thee to me.
Shift the source of illness borne.
Unleash the power hidden from day, in the night so deep.
Blood to blood, as I will so mote it be.”
Her words were harmonious, ringing over the glade with conviction, and the wind picked up, howling like a banshee as it blew at my back, sending my hair flying in a cluster of chaos.
Torent’s hand was my anchor. I held onto him tight, praying.
And then silence descended. Nothing moved or stirred, as if the elements surrounding us respected what had been summoned.
“It’s done,” she said, offering me the cup.
I dared to look inside, unsure what I would find. The dark liquid swirled like sparkling cranberry juice. Not so bad, I told myself, lifting the glass.
“Bottoms up,” I mumbled. The cool metal of the rim pressed to my lips, and I tipped my head back, ready to—
A rustling of leaves and branches sounded from the edge of the tree line, and both Beck and Torent went on alert, their bodies hardening. I licked my lips, lowering the goblet.
“Did you come alone?” Mrs. Augustine demanded, her eyes narrowing.
Torent’s body had gone tight beside me, and a low snarl erupted from Beck’s throat like an animal.
“Yes. We told no one,” Beck assured, but Torent and him sharing a look, and I wondered if they too were remembering that feeling of being watched in the woods.
“And you weren’t followed?” our teacher reiterated.
Torent’s eyes were glowing as he scanned through the shadows and thicket. “Not that we know of.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Mrs. Augustine warned, a hawk-like expression hardening her face.
“Beck.” Torent gave a slight tilt of his head, giving a command.
A complete shocker to me, my best friend obeyed, and before I comprehended what was happening, Beck had undressed and shifted into a beast. Gray fur replaced his creamy skin. Silver eyes sparkled under moonlight. I’d never seen Beck in his other form. He was majestic, his lean body stronger as a wolf.
Keeping low to the ground, Beck padded over to the trees where we had emerged not long ago, using his keen senses to sniff out any unwelcome visitors. Paw prints stamped the frosty ground. His ears went back, a low growl rumbling deep in his throat.
Then he lunged, disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Twigs snapped and crispy leaves crunched, but I could see nothing. The wrestling was shortly followed by a female squeal.
I knew that voice.
Beck was dragging out the intruder by the hem of a beautiful red satin dress, snarling through his clenched jaws.
Oh, for the love of everything holy!
“Brooklyn?” Torent’s voice echoed over the clearing.
My fellow nymph was playing tug-of-war with Beck, fighting to get the wolf to release her dress. “Bite me, mongrel, and I’ll make a fur coat out of you,” Brooklyn threatened, glaring at Beck.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Torent demanded, shoving a hand into his hair.
She gave one hard yank, and Beck chose that moment to release his locked grip, letting gravity take over. Brooklyn’s arms went flailing in the air as she fell backward on her ass with an audible oomph. Red-faced with rage, Brooklyn clenched her fists in the ground. If it was possible, steam would have expelled from her ears, she was that spitting mad.
Shit.
Before Beck had the chance to put some distance between Brooklyn and himself, she shot out her hand, zapping him with a bolt of electricity.
Beck yelped, scampering backward as fast as his four legs would allow, and followed up with a growl of warning.
It was my turn to get pissed. I stepped forward in between them, forcing Brooklyn to look at me. “Try that shit again, Brooklyn, and I’ll chain you to a tree.”
Torent was instantly at my side. “What are you doing here?” he asked again with no less patience than the first time.
Shoving to her feet with her chin jerked upward, she brushed off the dusting of snow and dirt from her soiled dress.
“I saw the three of you leave.” Her words were short and clipped.
“And you took it upon yourself to follow us. Why?” He was relentless in his tone.
Her dark blue eyes pinned me, pretty lips curling in disgust. “She’s up to something, and I want to know what.”
“It’s none of your business. Now go, Brooklyn, before someone notices you’re not at the ball,” I spat.
“If it’s all the same, I’d rather stay and watch the show.” She threw Beck’s words back at us, the little schemer.
“We don’t have time to argue.” Mrs. Augustine stepped forward, her voice carrying over the clearing. “Mallory, you must drink before it’s too late.”
I’d forgotten about the goblet clutched in my hands. Brooklyn sneered, but I ignored her. I had far more important things to deal with than her meddling in my life. In one quick motion, I threw back the contents of the cup, not allowing myself to think about the cocktail of blood and magic I was putting into my body.
“Why are you drinking spelled blood?” Brooklyn interrupted, watching me with scrutiny.
I tu
rned to Mrs. Augustine. “How long before we know if it works?”
“The spell should banish the hex immediately.”
I probably should have asked if this was going to hurt. So I waited. And waited. Four sets of eyes stared at me expectantly.
“Nothing’s happening.”
Beck had shifted back into his human self and was buttoning up his shirt when he asked, “Did we do something wrong?”
“There’s no reason it shouldn’t have worked. Mixing your blood with a demon’s should have been enough to counteract the hex,” Mrs. Augustine confirmed.
My chest hollowed out. “So why didn’t it work?”
“You’re too corrupt,” Brooklyn snarled in an almost laugh.
“Why are you still here?” I snapped back, ready to slam her head into the frozen ground.
“To watch you fall on your face.” Her lips grew into a pleased grin. “So you’re hexed? I’d love to kiss the witch who spelled you.”
The urge to cause Brooklyn bodily harm tripled, but what she had said sparked an idea. “Wait. Maybe she’s onto something. Give me your blood,” I ordered.
“As if I would ever stoop so low,” Brooklyn squeaked. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t give you my blood even if the world depended—”
Beck tackled her to the ground. “Quick, cut the bitch.”
Oh. My. God. What was even happening? This couldn’t be my life.
And yet, it was.
Unlike me, Torent didn’t hesitate. He snatched the dagger and pricked the tip of Brooklyn’s finger.
“Ouch!” Something violent and predatory crept into her dark blue eyes. “Release me, mutt,” she barked at Beck. A second later his hands jerked back in swift movements. “I’m going to dismantle you, Torent Stark!”
“She shocked me. Again,” Beck proclaimed, staring at his now hairless arms. She had singed them clean off.
“You’ll pay for this,” Brooklyn hissed at me with hate as I crouched down to catch the blood now dripping into the goblet.
“I’m sure I will,” I replied. “But if this works, I’ll be in your debt.”
Beck helped Brooklyn to her feet as Torent sliced his other hand, adding his blood to Brooklyn’s. My fellow nymph might not be a saint, but her bloodline was as pure and good as they came. I don’t know how the hell the goddess Aphrodite ever blessed someone like Brooklyn.
She fought against Beck’s grip, jerking her arms with revulsion. “Let me go,” she seethed.
He waited until Torent had handed the goblet over to Mrs. Augustine before releasing her.
“Behave,” Beck warned.
Brooklyn’s chin jutted out, her eyes blazing in the night.
Mrs. Augustine’s lips formed a thin line, watching us with disapproval. “I might not agree with your methods, but you better hope this works. The spell might not be as strong as the first. All we can do is pray it’s enough.”
Making haste with her magic, she spoke the words, and once again I drank from the goblet, downing every last drop of the enchanted mixture.
It was warm and thicker than I remembered as I forced the blood down my throat, my nose wrinkling. I shuddered at the bitter taste. A minute went by. Then another.
Mrs. Augustine let loose a disheartened sigh.
Brooklyn laughed haughtily.
Beck swore under his breath.
And Torent and I just stared at each other.
I was about to say screw it when my breath began to come fast and hard. I panted through my teeth in what I was sure was a panic attack.
A small noise came out of Brooklyn’s mouth.
“Quiet,” snapped Mrs. Augustine. “Open yourself up, Mallory. Don’t fight it.”
Something thrummed and pulsed, rising and lashing through my blood. Something not of this world. Something old and very, very dark. The thing inside me was roiling, desperate to keep its claws gripped to my soul. It shook my body with a building force as the magic, combined with Torent and Brooklyn’s blood, hunted for a way to rip off the very essence of who I was.
A rumble thundered under my feet, followed by a whoosh and a bloodcurdling scream that resonated to the stars.
My scream.
“Mallory!” My name bellowed from Torent’s lips, but it was too late.
Images slammed into me, breaking the void of blackness, but as I saw them, I wished for the darkness. One after one, they rolled through my mind.
My father looming over Ryle’s dead body, grinning. The pleasure killing gave him, the power he desired, expelled in the air like a toxic poison.
I saw my mother sprawled out on the forest floor, blood pooling around her, eyes vacant and gone. Gigi was beside her in a similar fashion, her long silver hair glowing under the moonlight, streaked with red.
And then there was me, standing proudly beside my father, thriving on the power he had bestowed upon me. In my right hand was the ceremonial knife, dripping with blood—my family’s blood.
I shook my head.
No. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be like you.
He didn’t seem to hear me, didn’t so much as flinch.
Help me! Help me, help me, I silently begged. Torent. Beck. Anyone. I pounded against the darkness, tears streaming down my face. Get me out. Please, I pleaded.
But no one heard. No one saw the fear, the panic, the desperation swallowing me, and it became clear. I was going to have to claw my way out of the darkness, but I was frozen in place, undiluted terror keeping me prisoner.
“Mallory,” a voice of silk and shadows crooned.
“What do you want from me?” I screamed.
“Accept who you are,” it seemed to coo without actually speaking. “My daughter.”
Rippling terror buried deep inside me, rooted my feet in place, but I refused to give in. No, my mind softly rejected the temptation. I’m not just your daughter. I’m also the daughter of a goddess.
I held on to that thought as if my life depended on it, and it a way, it did. I had no idea how long it had been since I’d drunk the potion, but for me, time seemed to have dragged, ensnaring me in my own personal hell with darkness. Each passing heartbeat, my resolve weakened, until something brushed against my hand, a touch.
I recognized that light caress.
Torent’s fingers closed around my mine, joining our hands and with it, our powers. The pad of his thumb stroked over the back of my hand. It was the encouragement I needed, grounding me. I unleashed my power—the power I’d almost forgotten I possessed. Torent and the feelings he elicited reminded me what I was capable of.
A flash of pure white light exploded behind my eyes, banishing the darkness that held me.
The light faded and I blinked, surprised to find myself on the ground, curled into Torent’s arms.
He glanced down into my face, relief in his violet eyes. “Hey,” he said.
“I’m going to be sick.” Turning my head to the side, I vomited, but not my dinner.
A smog of black expelled out of my mouth. Blackness swirled from the night, curling around me like a mist of death, cold and evil. It poked at every inch of me with little phantom talons of smoke, looking for—no, demanding—a way back in.
“What the hell is that?” Brooklyn shrieked.
“We need to trap it before it can find another host,” Mrs. Augustine informed.
Torent scooped his hands under my elbows, lifting me to my feet. He shoved me behind him, trying to stay between the shadow mist and me. “And just how do we do that?” he hissed.
“With this,” Mrs. Augustine said. I took my eyes off the cloud of blackness just long enough to see her holding up an elongated glass bottle tinged in seafoam green.
“A bottle?” Torent said with incredulity. He took the bottle from Mrs. Augustine and cracked his neck. “This should be fun.”
The shadow sprang from nightmares. It crawled and slunk over the ground, with no real shape or form, searching for its next victim or for me. The five of us backed away, each contempl
ating how the hell we were going to coax it inside the bottle in Torent’s hands.
Why did it have to be him?
I should have been the one trying to capture the darkness. This was my fault, my problem.
“Anyone have a plan?” Beck mumbled. He and I were shoulder to shoulder with Torent on the other side of me.
“If I die, I swear I will haunt you,” Brooklyn said to me, not taking her gaze off the shadow.
“Zap it or something,” Beck snarled at Brooklyn.
“Me?” she squealed. “This is not my problem.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes, afraid to take my attention off the shadow stalking us.
Torent stepped forward, putting himself in harm’s way.
“What are you doing?” I pleaded.
“Taking this thing down.” His voice was low and gritty. He didn’t give me the chance to argue, throwing out his arms. Hellfire erupted over his body, casting an aura of amber around him. The fire crackled and popped along his skin.
Anticipating the threat, the shadow hissed right before it morphed a small section of its form into a black, gleaming talon. Torent stepped closer, and it hissed in a noise that sounded like a thousand children screaming.
It slashed out with its talon, striking Torent in the face. His head whipped to the side, the fire along his fingers and arms sputtering.
“Torent!” I cried out, my heart knocking in my chest.
He raised his head, irises glowing nearly gold. Blood oozed from under his right eye. “That wasn’t very nice.”
I reacted without thinking, unaware of what I was doing until a surge of power trembled out of me. No one was more surprised than me when the shadow froze under my command.
Someone gasped.
Holy crap. It had magnetic properties.
“Gotcha,” I muttered.
Beck, Torent, and Brooklyn all pinned me with equal gazes of shock. “Are you doing this?” Torent asked, the flames of hellfire extinguished.
I nodded. “It must have particles of metal inside the shadows.”
The mist shrieked, bucking against my restraint, but I held on.
“Think you can get it inside this?” Torent held up the bottle.
“Only one way to find out,” I ground out, keeping my concentration wholly on the shadow.