Small Town Witch: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 5)

by Sami Valentine

  Elbowing him, Red tried to claw the iron off her wrist. she kneed him in the groin, trying to dodge him as she leapt up. “Defend the spell!”

  Boggling at the witch-neutralizing bracelet, Olivia raised a shimmering barrier above the circle. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Yelling across the chamber, Vic thrashed against a tawny-haired woman sinking her fangs into his neck.

  Red strained against the arms around her waist. “Vic!”

  Lashawn impaled his opponent, a blond hippie dude with dreads, in the forehead with a shovel before pivoting around to Vic. He howled, rushing to his brother. His face elongated into a snout as he ran. He ripped off his shirt, buttons flying, skin splitting on his chest. Stumbling to his knees, he crawled on all fours, limbs shaking.

  The vampires stilled as the large black wolf burst from a pair of jeans to charge them.

  “You did it, little bro!” Vic called out weakly, slugging the female at his neck.

  Perspective shifting in a jolt, Red yelled as Yuki threw her over a shoulder and darted out a broken window into the yard and through the trees. Her head snapped back like whiplash when he stopped at the cemetery’s edge.

  Black vapor gathered over an aged grave, solidifying into Isaac Gruber. “I’ll be taking her now.”

  “I’m going after Bonner, then. She’s mine,” Yuki said.

  She kicked him, wincing at the bruising pinch on her leg in response.

  The blood mage rolled his eyes to the sky. “Yes, yes, you get your revenge and hunting rights to the little Hero when you deliver me the witch.”

  The young vampire chucked Red to his boss and disappeared in a blur.

  Isaac caught her smoothly and brushed her hair off her forehead. “Who could imagine that we would have so much in common?”

  She punched him. Her fist plunged through his head, dissolving to mist.

  The magic traveled down his arms and pulled her under. She shrieked into nothingness as they floated up. The landscape blurred below as he flew them over the cemetery. She was still screaming when they landed in the ruins of an old crypt, fully formed and very much alone with the dead.

  23

  Flung onto a mossy sarcophagus, she shuddered as the impact knocked the breath from her. Sharp pain flared on the back of her head. Water soaked into her shirt from the wet granite. The tumbled stone walls of the ceiling-less crypt swam in her periphery vision. Stars spun in a gap in the clouds.

  “But Stace killed—”

  “I’ll have the Everlasting Ones to deal with her soon.” Isaac pinned her by the shoulders. Pink-cheeked and smiling, the blood mage must have gorged himself earlier. His powers would be at their peak with a full stomach. “We both know that isn’t the full truth.”

  Fear sank into her gut at the cold certainty in his smile. Red might as well be human now. The cold iron bracelet on her wrist cut off her connection to magic. She flailed her arms, trying to shove him aside.

  He slammed her head against the stone. “I should have had that thug mesmerize you. This struggling will ruin my penmanship. I do so want Novak to admire it.”

  Dazed, she winced, brain bouncing in her skull. “If we fail, the Blood Alliance and probably the FBI for all I know will come after you. You won't get out of this town alive.”

  “That is not why gentlemen take action, witch.” He pulled a length of rope from a sack on the ground and bound her wrists over her head, attaching the end to the stone cross at the head of the tomb.

  “Seriously?” Red scowled as she tested the tight bond. There wasn’t even a chip in the stone to rub against the rope. “Gavin and Stephen were tortured because of you.”

  “Oh, splendid.” Isaac grabbed the sack and blurred to circle the crypt, dropping selenite and river rock behind him to outline the ritual space.

  “So, you don't care that you're hurting vampires now. Isn't that your thing, bringing them together for undead supremacy?” She tugged her arms, kicking at him as he approached.

  Snorting, Isaac cut his wrist to sprinkle blood on her. The droplets glowed with power to her third eye. “This is the first crack in a schism. The Everlasting Ones will cull the herd and build us up anew.”

  “The Blood Alliance will nuke the place first.”

  “Pish posh. A house of cards, ready to topple.” He ripped her shirt over her head, scraping the fabric over her nose to bunch around her elbows. “That bard’s report made for an illuminating read. We’re almost even, aren’t we? I killed your mother. An unexpectedly delightful accident.”

  “Fuck you. We’re nowhere close to even.”

  Humming, he clawed the first Etruscan symbol into her torso. “I had hoped for the fae, a more worthy champion, but there is an efficient serendipity at play—revenge and a spell ingredient. One of Alaric’s murderers used to manifest his vision.”

  She shook her head. “Is that why you talked to me at the party? Playing a mind game?”

  “On the entire town, but what we had was mere conversation. I was right, you would understand my burden of solitude. Alas, it was a nudge from the cosmos that I didn’t heed.” Patting her hair, Isaac shook his head, amber-tinged gaze dewy with hope. “Hush, it all comes to an end. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Not for me!”

  Leaning an elbow over her legs, he scratched a nail down her belly. His erratic mood didn’t affect the smooth lines. Agony fired through her nervous system. He chanted, carving his curse and plea to Orcus and Culsu. His aura plunged into an inky black with poison green sparks like static electricity dancing on his form. Power rose, and the earth rumbled as the dark gods smiled on the sacrifice.

  Grimacing as he cut into her, she fought through the fear. The separation to her magic was more unbearable than the pain. Even with her mother's ring, she was trapped by the cold iron. Tied and weaponless, she didn’t have any cards to play. She was supposed to have been a little poker player. Hopefully she remembered some of it—bluffing was her only option. “You’re hurt about Alaric, but this won’t bring him back. You know, that right? The portal probably won’t even open before all of Kristoff’s men find you.”

  “Who is playing mind games now? The underworld smiles upon me. Even you can feel the door opening. The winds of destiny have blown us here, witch.”

  “You’re probably fucking it up again!”

  Expressionless, Isaac stuck a nail deep into her belly, worming a fingertip in the wound, waiting until her cussing faded. “My studies are complete, girl. Your Heroes and Bards missed one fact in the ritual—it must be done above a body.”

  Wincing, she struggled to think as he made another slash. “Orcus might punish a different oath breaker than you think.”

  “Alaric may be dead, but I kept his mission alive after all turned from him.”

  She huffed a short laugh. “I read your diary. You ran when he needed you.”

  Isaac slapped her. It hurt, but it stopped his chant. He pressed his face close enough to hers that their noses touched. His eyes turned the demon yellow of a predator. “I retreated as I advised him to.”

  She sneered. “You lost the mission!”

  Fangs popping out of his mouth, nostrils flaring, he raised a hand back again for another slap. Then he dropped it. Sighing, Isaac rubbed his face, smearing blood on it absently. “I regarded myself a lion until I failed his dream of a world of darkness. For ten years, I’ve meditated on the son I should have been.”

  She scowled at his self-pity. Nobody ended up like their parents intended. It wasn’t a reason to conjure monsters from the Blood Realm. She kicked at him, trying to loosen her bound arms. “You destroyed my world! I read your notes. It was an experiment to you!”

  He rolled his eyes, hopping on the stone casket to immobilize her by sitting side-saddle on her legs. Crossing his own, he leaned in, asking conversationally, “You did realize that retribution was to be expected when you killed Alaric? The man was a legend above and below, spawning a legion of demons over centuries. Did you t
ruly imagine that you would still go to the malt shop with your mates? Naïve child.”

  Red was tired of the condescension tonight. She tried to move to unsettle him, his bulk was like a boulder, trapping her. “You’ll get your sister killed. Delilah came here to try to save you.”

  Smirk curdling, he slammed his palm on the sarcophagus. “I do not need that garish strumpet’s sympathy! It was her and her brood, gallivanting on the surface, that brought the August Harvest on us. After our sire had given them everything, even spoils of war promised to me.”

  “Like Penelope?”

  “She was merely the most beautiful.” Eyes narrowing, Isaac shook his head. “If the Blood Alliance kills my dear sister, I'll be happier for it. That’s not a weakness to manipulate, witch.”

  Red pleaded to common sense as her legs tingled, falling asleep. “Delilah’s the only one who wants you alive. She’s your only family left.”

  “And she broke her oaths against our maker, time and time again, yet he favored her above all others,” he said peevishly. “I killed that damn Jesuit, and he cursed at me for not restoring her instead.”

  Curiosity broke through the pain. “Father Matthew?”

  “I gave him a taste of the curse that he unleashed on the world. A fruitless revenge. But now, now we're going to go back to the old days, the old days of proud bloodlines, when vampires knew their places at the top even as we lurked below. Those are the days I will bring back.”

  Isaac bent his head, making another mark on her belly. The brewing dark energy seemed to make him tremble, affecting him as much as it did her. He chanted, eyes glowing amber.

  She dropped her head to the side of the closed sarcophagus, cool against her heated cheek, unable to watch him anymore. Hopefully, the other witches were still counteracting his ritual because he only had so many more letters left.

  Kristoff perched on the ruined wall of the crypt, finger on his lips. He pulled a stake out of his pocket, tensing to spring onto the other vampire.

  Appearing suddenly, Delilah leapt the wall to land at the foot of the stone casket, trench coat flaring around her legs. “Stop!”

  Isaac whipped his head to the interruption, disdain flagged by his puckered mouth. He clutched his captive’s throat in a silent warning. “You should join in, little sister. Do something for our sire for once.”

  Red stilled under his palm. He shifted his weight to his knees, no longer on her legs, but he could still crush her windpipe before she could knock him off.

  After vaulting down, Kristoff lifted his chin and put his arms behind his back. His pose was calm, but his furious expression spoiled the attempt. “Release my claimed human before you do something your sister can’t clean up.”

  Hand on her hip, Delilah looked at her nails. “What happened to letting the Blood Alliance to take him alive to question him?”

  “Him nearly killing me!” Red glared. “He doesn’t care about you. He called you a garish whore and hoped you died.”

  Delilah huffed. “Garish?”

  “Always have been.” Isaac smirked and tightened his grip on her throat. “Stand back. I’ve written enough for Orcus to get the letter. I’ll kill her now to seal the envelope.”

  Red gulped, sweating.

  Kristoff growled.

  “We are the last of his childer,” Delilah said. “If you care so much about our bloodline, leave so we can preserve it. This will haunt you if you don’t.”

  “Oh, no, dear sister, I believe the haunting is for you.” He sliced his wrist again, lifting it to say an incantation in a strange language different than before. Magic swirled around him, curls of dark purple and deepest black. He laughed until a stake burrowed into his chest, only an inch away from his heart.

  Kristoff smashed a vial of powdered iron on the unholy circle, trying to neutralize it, and darted for Red. He shredded the tie on her wrists, releasing her from the rope connecting to the sarcophagus’s granite cross. Desecrated by dark magic and violence, the holy symbol repelled him as much as a trapezoid.

  “The bracelet!” She lifted it, showing the small locking mechanism. The metal, etched with an unfamiliar flowing script, bound her more critically than the rope had.

  Isaac yanked the cross off its pedestal and slammed Kristoff upside the head with it. He disappeared into shadows when Kristoff wrenched the ironic weapon from his bloody hands.

  Red rolled off the tomb, staggering for balance as her legs woke up. She whipped her shirt back on, wincing at the cuts on her stomach.

  Kristoff led her away, squeezing at the bracelet hinge and bending it.

  Materializing behind them, Isaac clapped his hands over Kristoff’s ears and headbutted him. He tossed her back on the tomb, dazing her from the impact. Aura darkening, face gleeful, he sat by her hip and held her down. He grinned ghoulishly at the other vampires as two ghosts floated out of the ground.

  The figures became distinct as they walked forward. Surprise dulled her pain. Red gasped when she recognized the first. It couldn’t be.

  It was Quinn Byrnes.

  Delilah didn't move as it approached. A tear traveled down her cheek. “Oh, my sweet boy. Tell me it isn’t you.”

  With his short spiky blond hair, dark overcoat, and stoic expression, the broad-shouldered detective looked exactly as he had in real life, only semi-transparent with an unearthly sheen. The soul was still bright in his brown eyes. Wiping her tear away, he pulled Delilah into his arms, kissing her passionately.

  Isaac smirked at Red. “That should occupy her. The Irishman always did make her an idiot.”

  Slower to materialize, the next spirit was unfamiliar—a thin, brooding man in a Victorian suit who strode to Kristoff. He had a thin face like a striking hatchet. “Don't you remember your friend Reince, or did you get too fancy?”

  “I buried you for a reason.”

  Reince hissed, tackling him against the crypt wall. The blood magic spell might not have made him flesh again, but the ghost still packed a wallop. All of Kristoff’s blows passed harmlessly through the specter.

  Isaac jerked her shirt up and dug his fingernail into her belly.

  Agony clawing up her side, Red squirmed, trying to buck him off. She hit the bracelet against the stone tomb, frantically trying to get the thing off. Her rescuers needed their own rescuing now.

  Ghost Quinn smiled, lips flicking up in his typical blink and you miss it way. He cupped his wife’s cheek. “You should be fighting right now for our friends.”

  “But I can’t leave you!” Delilah covered her mouth, a sob escaping her. “What will I do without you?”

  “You already know.” He kissed her forehead. “Divas always do.”

  Reince knocked Kristoff into the couple, breaking up the tender reunion.

  “Get away from them!” Red wrestled with her captor, fighting to go help Kristoff.

  Reince whirled around, angry black eyes narrowing. “Miss St. James.”

  “Oh shit.” Red elbowed Isaac, worming out of his arms, ignoring the shooting pain from her wounds. He just had to conjure a vamp ghost with a grudge against her past life doppelgänger. Why not Joe Chang?

  The raging spirit rushed them, sharp nails extended.

  “No, go for Novak!” The blood mage ordered, swiping at the ghost.

  Reince dove, tumbling them from the granite casket onto the ground.

  “Stop!” Isaac commanded. Slashing his wrist again, he murmured an incantation to regain control of the wraith.

  Red crawled away from the two, wincing from the ground rubbing against her damaged stomach. She slammed the bracelet against selenite, focusing on the hinge, already loosened by Kristoff. Her wrist ached as she bashed at the cold iron. Isaac wasted his precious blood supply with each new incantation. If they could hack a limb or two off, it might drain him enough that he had to choose between magic and healing himself.

  “No escaping destiny, little girl.” Isaac hopped onto her back and rolled her over to see the ghost scurry for Kri
stoff, slapping a stake away. He grinned from a tangle of white-blond hair. “You got your mother killed. Now you'll get your lover killed. Savor that as you join them.”

  Red hit the bracelet against his thick skull. The lock broke. Magic exploded from her, tossing Isaac against a ruined wall, bricks falling on his head. Power roared in her ears, drowning out vampires and ghosts behind her. The connection to the earth and the elements pulsed with life, rocketing into her, masking her physical aches and pains.

  Popping to her feet, she raised her mother’s ring. She tapped into the crystals of his own circle. Even corrupted by dark energy, the selenite amplified her might. Blood fueled his power. Even a single drop could be used to conjure another defense. He had cut her magic off at the source, and now she’d do the same.

  The intention scarcely formed in her own mind, power made her will manifest on an element that had always resisted her—water. Chemists wouldn’t have classified the crimson fluid as such, but it reacted to her all the same.

  Isaac stood, blood trickling from his nostril. He wiped at it absently.

  She channeled more magic through her mother’s ring, commanding the blood to leave his body. He couldn’t hold up the enchantment and heal himself as the same time.

  A ghostly form flickered in her peripheral vision.

  “Don’t leave!” Delilah called out.

  “I’m here. Forever.” Quinn rested a hand over his wife’s heart. Vanishing, the spirit knew peace once again.

  Reince battled against his body’s blinking out of their reality and continued his crusade against Kristoff. His blows seemed to weaken.

  Red bared her teeth at Isaac. It was working. He’d know how it felt to have his potential ripped away. He called them even for killing each other’s parents. The bastard had no idea what he had cost her. Now he’d get a taste.

  Nose bleeding, reddish tears streamed from his eyes, and the blood congealed together in a growing puddle at his feet. He touched the fluid gushing from his ears, paling as he gaped horrorstruck at his fingertips. “What are you doing?”