by T. L. Martin
This process repeated itself two more times, each one bringing me to the edge of death, and each one making me fall into a deeper state of despair.
Finally, the drowning stopped. The temperature dropped to unbearable levels, and the air around me chilled enough to transform the coffin into a compact freezer. Every inhale stung my throat deeper than the last, and each exhale produced a large, white cloud. I didn’t know how much time had passed like that, laying motionless in the icebox of a coffin, but Tempest’s words never ceased to replay themselves.
She was right. I was destined to spend the rest of my life on the run.
My fingers had stopped tingling long ago. I could almost pretend it was peaceful now with the numbness taking over. Yes, I could lie here like this for a while longer, just until my body decides to let me go. It would be so easy. No more running. No more hiding. Those dear to me would finally be safe. I could put an end to the dark souls hunting me once and for all. No, they will never be able to use me again.
The blackness was all consuming, and, for all I knew, my eyes were already closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: SO MANY SURPRISES
I woke in a heavy daze to the nebulous sight of a hand snapping briskly in my face. Once, twice, three times now, and my eyes began to focus. I was back in the chair, my wrists and ankles returned to their heavy chains. Tempest leaned down until her animated eyes were mere inches from my own.
She smiled wide, baring pearly white teeth.
“I’m so pleased you’re back,” she said, clapping her hands. “I have a surprise for you.” She leaned closer, speaking in a whisper against my ear, “Time to reveal our very own prisoner.”
Taking a bouncy step backward, Tempest used wild hand gestures to demonstrate her excitement as she spoke. “Okay, so—not to sound cocky or anything—but I’m particularly proud of this one. He’s reaped quite the intimidating reputation, after all, proving himself to be practically invincible time and time again. And to think, he actually volunteered himself! Now, there’s a first.”
I narrowed my eyes skeptically. She could not have been referring to Desmond. He would never volunteer to be her prisoner.
Tempest grinned, twirling her index finger in a circular motion, and my chair swung around to face the cage-like cells. It was too dark to make out the person behind the bars, and I strained my eyes to see.
“Oh, my apologies,” Tempest said, promptly giving her fingers another snap.
The cell suddenly lit up by a single candle within its borders, illuminating a tall man’s figure. He was standing upright and hung weakly from enormous chains in the ceiling. His head dangled limply toward his bare chest, keeping his face hidden.
My heart stopped as I took in the thick strands of dark hair and the familiar curves of his body. Desmond. Why couldn’t I sense him?
“What did you do to him?” Though my voice was barely louder than a whisper, it trembled with the rage bubbling inside of me.
“Calm down, child,” Tempest replied, strolling lazily toward his cell. “He’s just a little...parched.” She peeked her head over her shoulder briefly to show me the amused twitch of her lips as she approached him. “You can’t really expect me to leave a vampire like this one at full strength, can you? I just drained a bit of his blood is all. He will wake soon enough.”
All at once, I was feeling more suffocated, more trapped, than when I had been in that coffin. My heart pounded solidly, and my blood boiled.
“You sick—”
“Oh, not just me. No. I can’t take all the credit,” Tempest intervened, staring at Desmond with twisted admiration. “I have that demon girl to thank. What was it...Carolina?”
“Catalina?” I whispered.
“Bingo!” she confirmed with a loud clap of her hands, as she turned back to face me. “That’s the one. He’d stopped by to visit her this morning, only to find I already had her, of course.” She paused and clucked her tongue. “I couldn’t have someone pulling information about her brother’s unfinished work on the Opal. Could I? I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would reach out to her. Although, I was quite surprised to find it was him, of all people.”
Of course...if Catalina and her brother were close, she could have known more about his research. About the Opal. She could have helped. I closed my eyes in quiet frustration at myself for not figuring it out sooner. I should have thought to see Catalina myself, and this never would have happened to him. This was my mess to deal with and mine alone.
Looking up at her, I thought back to the crimson blood dripping from my wall mirror.
“It was her blood. Wasn’t it? On my mirror...”
“Very good,” she cooed, making her way back to me. “Dear God, Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes at the sight of my expression, “that alone is not enough to kill a demon. The girl lived. When Desmond offered to take her place for her freedom, of course, I didn’t hesitate. Fortunately, she turned out to know next to nothing, anyway, so I’d say it worked out well, all in all.”
She kneeled down to face me evenly, her eyes lighting up with victory. “Charlotte Eden’s very own boy toy as my prisoner. Mr. Invincible himself. What a delight.”
Through trembling teeth, I spat in her face. She grinned as she stood and wiped it off, before making her way back to him. She reached a hand between the bars and stroked his hair. I felt like I was going to puke.
“Of course, there is something you can do to release him.”
For the first time, I found myself actually entertaining the idea. I couldn’t stand to see him suffer like this.
She must have seen me finally begin to falter, because her lips turned up as she took a step toward me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give you as much time as you need to think it over.”
With another snap of her fingers, Pierce and Jovan were unclasping my chains.
I had regained most of my strength by now, and I kicked and swung against them with everything I had. When it still wasn’t enough to free myself, I leaned in and bit into Jovan’s skin hard enough to draw blood. He cried out angrily and pulled a hand back as if to hit me, but Tempest clacked her tongue disapprovingly.
“You will calm yourself, Jovan.” Her voice was stern, and, after pausing, he reluctantly obliged.
They threw me down roughly now, and I winced in pain as the uneven cement beneath my body tore sharply into my skin. The added breathing holes had disappeared, and there was nothing but me and the coffin now—no tricks or enchantments. Just a small, pitch black box, constricting my oxygen and rapidly overheating my body.
***
The Town Hall parking lot was mostly vacant when Quinn, Pixie, and Matt arrived, and it was littered with toilet paper trails and broken eggs.
“What is this?” Quinn mumbled in irritation. “High school?”
“Dumb protesters.” Matt shook his head disapprovingly and pulled into a spot. “People against the whole unity thing, with nothing better to do with their time. Let’s just find Priscilla and get out of here.”
Things had been tense between the three of them since Quinn’s confession. Especially with Matt—that had been the first word he’d spoken to her, and it wasn’t even directly at her. It wasn’t like she was upset about it or anything, though. At least he didn’t kick her out of the car, leaving her to fend for herself on the side of the road like she knew she deserved. Pixie hadn’t said much either, but she wasn’t shutting her out. That just wasn’t Pixie’s way; she was a firm believer in second chances, and Quinn was holding onto that silent promise like her only lifeline right now.
Their heads snapped toward the other end of the building as a pop sounded, and a burst of short-lived flames lit up the dark evening’s sky.
“I don’t remember fireworks being part of the plan,” Pixie said, hopping out of the truck.
Quinn narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “They aren’t.”
Matt turned his head toward the vehicle pulling up beside them, where the Guardians were
also gazing toward the exploding lights in surprise. Matt didn’t utter a word, but Quinn could figure out from their reluctant and disappointed facial expressions that he was instructing them to stay behind.
Without wasting another moment, the three of them bolted toward the hall’s front door, yanking it open.
Quinn’s jaw dropped at the abhorrent sight before them. The Unity Gala banner had been partially singed, hanging crookedly from one corner, and the rest of the place was equally ripped apart. Most of the guests who remained attempted to clean up the dismantled decorations scattered across the floor while others stood around idly, eyeing the destruction with mixed expressions of disinterest or satisfaction.
Toward the back of the room hung some sort of giant, golden bird cage, holding several angry demons captive. One of them tried to reach his arm through the gap between the cage’s bars, but he immediately yelped out and pulled it back, grabbing onto it tenderly with his other hand as though it had been burned. A witch dressed sharply in her black police uniform was repetitively muttering a spell, but, clearly, it was doing nothing to break the cage’s enchantment and release its hostages.
Quinn narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the sight. Whichever witches had set the trap sure knew what they were doing at the time. She wouldn’t be surprised if Tempest was behind all this, trying to keep Priscilla occupied.
“Such a terrible shame.” Anastasie’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she approached the trio, her lips turning upward slightly. “I speak on behalf of the entire town board when I say, I am simply appalled by the behavior of some of tonight’s guests.”
Quinn glared at the vampire. “Yeah. You look real torn up.”
Matt glanced intently at Pixie. “Don’t leave Quinn’s side,” he quietly instructed. “I’m going to check out back for Priscilla.”
Anastasie’s partial smile broadened as he parted from them, heading toward the back door.
“Tell me, Quinn. How does it feel?” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Being a traitor.”
“You would know,” Quinn snarled. “How do you think Desmond is going to feel when he finds out what you’ve been up to?”
She snickered as she watched Quinn carefully. “Oh, but he won’t. The more pressing question here is: how will Priscilla feel about you? How about Charlie?”
Quinn’s eyes darted downward at the thought, but she quickly returned to meet Anastasie’s, holding strong this time.
“Don’t look so glum, little witch,” Anastasie said, patronizing. “Tempest has a very welcoming room reserved just for you.”
Pixie leaned in toward Quinn and mumbled, “Don’t listen to her.”
“She’s right,” Anastasie purred as she touched a firm hand to each of their shoulders. “How about I show you, instead?”
***
I stayed like that, lying perfectly still in the pitch black darkness, with nothing but my mind to accompany me for I didn’t know how long.
There had to be a way to get Desmond out of this mess. I could use magic, but the trouble was: I didn’t know how. The few spells that had been taught to me were useless here. Squeezing my hand into my pocket, I searched blindly for the leftover relocation mix. If I could figure out a way to get some of it on Desmond, he was far enough away from the others that I could relocate him someplace safe without anyone else following. Finding nothing, I dug into my other pocket. That one was empty too.
“Looking for something?” Tempest’s voice rang.
I shut my eyes. She couldn’t have.
“You really think I wouldn’t check you for potions or mixes? It was the first thing I did, child.”
My heart all but dropped from my chest. That was the only hope I had of freeing him.
Multiple footsteps were suddenly scuffling above me, and the sound of Tempest’s amused laughter echoed within the walls of the coffin.
“Oh, my.” She chuckled. “So many surprises!”
I heard someone cry out in pain and tried to place the familiar tone.
“Lock the pretty redhead up in a cell.” My stomach churned as I realized who it was. “Quinn, on the other hand, can stay up here with us. I believe she and Charlotte have a lot to catch up on.” She let out a low snicker as another chair was scraped along the ground and chains clamped firmly down.
“Get your hands off me,” I heard Quinn snarl, and I was certain she wasn’t making it easy for them.
The door above me opened, and I found myself gasping for air once more. I had to squint at the bright light streaming onto my face as Jovan roughly pulled me into a sitting position. Immediately attempting to stand, I didn’t understand when I could hardly move. Something held my arms down. I inspected the coffin carefully but found no evidence of restraints.
“One of the perks of magic,” Tempest whispered with a wink.
Quinn’s eyes shot down to the coffin and back to me, widening in horror for only a moment before quickly shifting to fury. “Let her go, you disgusting excuse for a witch,” she demanded, pulling harshly against the weight of the chains.
“Quinn. Don’t,” I warned softly.
“Awe,” Tempest murmured in a syrupy tone. She moved closer and rested a hand on the back of Quinn’s chair. “Look at you guys, watching each other’s backs. Such a shame Quinn hadn’t thought of it sooner...”
She glanced sympathetically at me, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I knew what she was doing, trying to play us against each other. It wasn’t going to work. I shook my head gently at Quinn, quietly urging her not to buy into it. Quinn looked down at the ground, and Tempest’s grin widened.
“I owe some of my success to her, after all.”
Quinn’s eyes darkened as she narrowed them at Tempest, and I tried to ignore the doubt forming in my mind.
“Tempest.” Pierce had returned and shot Tempest a grave look. “You’ll want to hear this.”
She let out an irritated sigh and looked from me to Quinn. “Please excuse me.”
She had almost reached the doorway when she paused and glanced back in second thought. With a quick twirl of her hand in Quinn’s direction, Quinn opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. A fearful look flashed in her eyes when she peered at me helplessly.
“Wouldn’t want you spoiling all the fun and spilling your heart out without me, now,” Tempest said with a smug grin, and she turned on her heel to exit the room.
Quinn was still trying desperately to speak, and she looked so frustrated she was on the brink of tears.
“It’s okay,” I muttered, though I sounded more like I was trying to reassure myself than anyone else. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you.” Cold fingers suddenly caressed my neck as the already prominent chill in my spine increased. Anastasie’s silky blonde strands fell before me as her eyes hovered on my neck, and a pair of long, white fangs revealed themselves.
Quinn was struggling against the chains more than ever now, but it was no use.
“I should have guessed you had a hand in this,” I said, eyeing the vampire with caution as she circled me slowly.
“Only a tad,” she said with a smile. “To be honest, this whole thing’s a little too dramatic for my taste.” Anastasie stopped before me, lifting my chin until my eyes met hers. “Though I have to admit, I did admire the efficiency of Tempest’s potion when I gave it to your dear Raymond. He was out in the blink of an eye.”
Furry boiled beneath my skin as I fought against my invisible bind to the coffin.
“Calm down,” she chided. “A heart attack was a blessing in light of what I could have done to him.” She flashed her fangs once more before smirking.
“It’s funny,” I muttered. “I didn’t take you for a puppet.”
She leaned into my face and hissed at me. Her angelic face had never looked so diabolical. “I’m no one’s puppet,” she snarled. “Besides, I could care less about the Opal.”
I
narrowed my eyes at the vampire questioningly.
“There’s more to life than just power,” she elaborated, slowly removing a jagged dagger from the cusp of her leather boot. “At least now, Desmond will think one of Tempest’s radical followers killed you.”
She ran a finger along the blade, smiling faintly as it cut smoothly across her skin.
“This is about Desmond?” I whispered.
“Of course,” she murmured, kneeling before me so our eyes were level. “Desmond, and your selfishness when you’re with him. Not only are you trying to get in the way of real love, but you’re planting a target on his back in the process. You fool. Besides...he’s a vampire, Charlotte. You really think your little innocent act will hold onto him forever?” She scoffed, rising back to her feet. “You will fade, human...and he will return to me, like he always does.”
Her eyes wandered to his cell, and I could easily see the intense passion igniting within them. She shook her head softly, lowering her gaze. “I’m going to kill Tempest myself for doing this to him,” she growled behind gritted teeth. “After I’m done with you.”
Before I could say another word, the dagger was piercing into my rib cage, making me scream out in agony. Pixie was shouting from her cell, and Quinn was fighting like mad to speak or break away from her seat. All I could feel was the stabbing pressure tearing into my skin, cutting through inches of flesh. I watched in petrified shock as my own warm blood spilled down my clothes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: CONFESSIONS
Tempest’s enraged voice shrieked when she suddenly appeared in the doorway. She flew toward Anastasie, using magic to throw her forcibly against the far wall. The sound of Anastasie’s bones breaking when she hit the ground was loud enough to fill the room, but the vampire popped the leg back into place and picked herself up as though it never happened.
They lunged toward each other a few more times, but I was hardly paying attention. The wound wickedly burned, stung, and stabbed at my ribs all at once, and the edges of my vision were darkening. I was losing too much blood.