Although how she was going to avoid that now that she’d saved everyone was beyond her, really. She scanned the crowd, finding her parents. How had this happen? Had they come back to her? Been forcibly taken? Were they dead and just their bodies remained for this torture? Eleanor sort of hoped it was the last option. No one should be stuck in there.
Another face came into view. She should have known. At least she now knew what became of the man who had performed the tattoo torture on her. He was there, too. Seeing him solidified the idea that her parents were not there voluntarily. He’d been all about defeating this, about stopping it from happening and now here he was, or at least his body was, trapped in this place.
Seeing him was only slightly less awful than the idea that she was going to have to somehow defeat this woman.
He’d cut open his wrist and dripped his blood on her…
Blood.
They’d all been obsessed with it that day. Blood this and blood that…
It’s really just a story about sisters…
Blood…
Eleanor shook her head. Was it possible she’d had the answer this entire time? All of the years she’d been hurt over and over in this battle for control and all she’d had to do was bleed. But of course it was that easy. Mitchell had known it before he’d gone to bed, and he was a person who liked to solve problems.
She had to get the tattoo off.
“I don’t like that look on your face.” The woman frowned. “I want you to get on that altar. We’re going to force me into you, and you are going to say yes. Or I can go get the people you’re bored with again and this time I can be less kind to their souls. I so want to be worshipped. But I’ll take feared.”
A sense of calm washed over Eleanor. This was really so simple. Blood had started this problem. Well, blood, boredom, sex… There were lots of reasons. Her mother had spent the rest of her life trying to undo what she’d done. And even as Eleanor stood there, knowing she had no choice but to see this through, she didn’t feel any malice toward the woman who had raised her for her first fourteen years.
She’d tried to make this better and even if she hadn’t been a perfect parent, she’d always made sure Eleanor had what she needed. This time wasn’t any different.
Don’t ever tell, Eleanor. We’ll all die. But remember the blood. It hurt, but you’ll never forget it.
Eleanor had forgotten. Right up until the point she’d had to remember it. And there it was.
“This way.” Her captor extended her hand like she was supposed to follow her.
“I will say yes,” Eleanor answered her.
The woman smiled, her first real one since Eleanor arrived. “That’s so good of you, dear.”
The truth was, Eleanor had always been a very good liar. Nothing about that had changed. The trick to a good lie was coating some of it in the truth. She was going to say yes. That was absolutely the case.
Just not to what she was being told to do.
With what little magic she had, she stared down at her tattoo. It was time to take that off. Someone else’s blood had formed it. Her own would set it free. And then she just had to hope that what needed to happen, happened.
She narrowed her eyes, and with every ounce of her pathetic amount of magic, she cut her wrist right over the tattoo. One of two things would happen, it would either release the energy or it would kill her.
The so-called goddess bellowed the word no as a gust of power came to Eleanor in a surge of energy the likes of which she’d never experienced before. There was power and then there was… power.
The room blackened and Eleanor could only see another woman in front of her. “Distrana.”
With a nod, the other woman indicated that was correct. “Yes, that’s me. You took off my sign that was the protection and let me inside. That is what you intended, correct?”
“Yes.” It had worked. Unless Eleanor was bleeding out right at this moment and had no idea. That might also be a possibility.
“And I have your consent to take your body? You are giving it to me of your free will? I’m afraid I have to have your consent. My sister and I share that. If you’d been raised her worshiper you’d have given it to her. I need you to give it to me, now. There’s no time to waste.”
It had come down to this. She wouldn’t be responsible for the destruction of the universe. By saying yes she’d put an end to this. The curse would be over. No one else would ever have to suffer through the mess started so many unfathomable years earlier.
She’d never have a future, but she was never going to have had one anyway.
For just a moment, Eleanor had the present. And that had been… everything.
Without shedding the tears in her eyes, she nodded. “You have my consent.”
Distrana walked toward her and touched the side of her cheek. Warmth traveled through her body. “There. It is done. All that will happen now, the battle that will rage, it will happen but it will not rest on your shoulders. You have saved everyone.”
“Why me?” She had to vocalize the question. “I have so little power.”
“You were made on her altar. Your body designed for her to take over. Consequently, it’s why I can, too. Sisters. Blood. You figured it out. I can stop her. I can also be you. And as for your power? It’s not your power that would have made her strong. It was your human side. She needed witch power to win, as I am using now, but she needed your other half. Humans will never follow a witch leader. They never have. Even with all of the magic in the world, they find a way to resist. She needed your human half, your empathic abilities, that she would use to win.”
The side of her that Eleanor had always hated was the part that made her strong in this massive battle?
“You’re battling right now.”
The other witch smiled. “It’s almost over.”
“What do I do now?”
“You sleep.”
The world faded to black.
Mitchell
* * *
He woke up feeling like he’d slept for a year. Mitchell Sharpe groaned and rubbed his eyes. How much alcohol had they consumed the night before? The answer came to him fast. None. So what in the heck was going on?
Mitchell reached for Eleanor, wanting to touch her. Maybe he’d gotten sick in the cave or caught a cold somewhere. It didn’t matter. Eleanor’s presence would make him feel better. She was like sunlight on…
His hand came up empty, and he lifted his head. She wasn’t there. He looked around. Maybe she’d gotten up. The sun through the window indicated it was later than he’d wanted to sleep. Why hadn’t his magic gotten him up before dawn? That was the spell he’d put on himself.
Maybe he really was sick. He always slept so deeply when Ellie was with him because she was so comforting to have with him. Had he counteracted his own spell and just not gotten up? Mitchell shook his head. This was really bizarre.
“Ellie?” he called out, but no one answered. That was weird. He pushed his power forward, which was harder than it should have been, but everything was just off. He searched for hers in the apartment.
She always tasted sweet against his senses, like spring air touching him or a warm summer’s day. He waited for the bounce back that would tell him where she was but none came. He threw the covers off the bed. Screw not feeling well. Why wasn’t she in the apartment?
Mitchell wasn’t a caveman. Ellie had the right to go where they wanted, even leave the apartment with him asleep in it, but he didn’t think she’d do so without at least leaving him a note. That just meant he had to find where she’d left it.
He took two steps and then stopped, staring down at himself. When had he gotten dressed? In his winter workout clothes? He’d not even been going outside to run lately, doing calisthenics in the basement of his apartment building where they’d constructed the work out room. Usually, he wore shorts.
Quickly, he cataloged the situation. He didn’t feel well. Eleanor wasn’t here. He’d gotten dressed
, and he didn’t remember doing so.
He rushed out into the living room, pushing his magic in front of him. Find a note. Find anything that she left to tell him that he’d had the flu or something and lost his memory. Accidently given himself amnesia like some novice spell caster. Anything to explain any of it…
Mitchell already knew before his magic found no note that none of that was true. He’d lost time, and it wasn’t because he’d done this to himself.
No. No. No. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through his nose. Had he been hexed again? How long had it been since he’d been aware.
He ran to the TV, flipping it on with his mind and grabbed the date off the screen. Okay. It had only been one night. He hadn’t lost more time than that. And it had been almost midnight when they’d conked out. They’d had an interesting day. The cave. Eating with his parents that had been unexpected but surprisingly fun. Eleanor telling him she loved him. His heart clenched. Oh how he loved that woman. More every day that he knew her.
Thank the universe his marriage to Ava hadn’t happened. It was an odd thing to think, but it was the truth. If he’d married her, he’d never have known love like this one. Eleanor was his true soulmate. She was his.
Okay. He had to think rationally. Put out all thoughts of the time that had happened before from his brain. Why was he even thinking about any of that? Most days Ava felt like a distant memory. Even when he saw her, it was like running into an old friend he didn’t know that well anymore. Lawson was tolerable. Brilliant. Capable. Brave. They were a good match.
And he’d found Eleanor. His love. Much better suited.
Fuck, he couldn’t let this subject go. Why? Because it was strikingly familiar. This was exactly what losing time felt like and he knew the sensation well. He’d woken up after a year of being hexed, thinking he was getting married the next day.
Okay. Okay. He shook his head. He’d spent over a year in Prestige getting out of his own head, and he wasn’t going back down the obsessing path. This was some part of a night. Not a year. Fuck, where was Eleanor?
He needed help and he wasn’t above asking for it. Someone had to have the ability to track her. In fact, he knew that was true. Enforcers did this for a living. He knew one active and two retired. Mitchell called the spell that let him move from one place to another.
He’d not been to Ava’s house before, but he knew where it was. Melanie, her best friend and his lawyer, had told him once in passing that they’d converted an old warehouse into their home, and he’d surmised which one it was based on the sheer livability of the location. Arriving, he wasted no time. He rang the doorbell. If he had to, he’d put himself down in their bedroom, although he really prefer not to do that. He rang it once. Twice. Three times. Finally, Lawson appeared at the door.
The Enforcer’s eyes were bloodshot. He stared at Mitchell for a long second. “Something is wrong.”
“Eleanor is missing.”
Lawson nodded, slowly. “I can’t get my head clear. Come in. Sorry. This has never happened to me before.”
Unfortunately, for Mitchell it had. He floated past Lawson into his home. “This is what it’s like to be… out of your own head for a while. Like when I was hexed.”
“I was hexed, too. Badly. But I wasn’t like this. I still knew what was going on even if I wasn’t in control of it.”
Lawson understood the difference. “This is what it was like for me. I didn’t have a clue what was happening. Well, you know this story. We have to find her. You find people. Find Eleanor.”
The Enforcer put his hands on his knees. “I’m going to need a second.”
“Lawson?” Ava called from within the house. “I don’t feel right…”
None of this was good. Something had happened to all of them. Ellie was gone. But she had to be fine. He wouldn’t consider otherwise. She was his. He would get her back. That’s all there was to it. Mitchell would not lose the only woman in the world who really mattered.
Chapter 13
Mitchell
* * *
Rocks. Everywhere he looked there were piles of rocks blocking where he wanted to be. The rain pounded on Mitchell in such a deluge that he’d long since quit using his hood. What was the point? No amount of clothing could stop the wetness at this point. Apparently there was a threshold upon which there was no such thing as wetter.
This was it. Rain and rocks keeping him from getting to Eleanor.
He just had to think.
What did he know, and what did he have to figure out?
First, there was something magically keeping them from getting behind those rocks. Like a force field. If they couldn’t figure out how to get past it here, he was going to do research to find out what the spell was and how to break through. Second, it was possible to get through. If Eleanor was back there, it was doable.
He took a deep breath. And then he ran forward. Rain or no rain, magic or no magic, he was getting to her. He pulled out a rock. It was heavy. They wouldn’t move magically so okay, he’d just do it like humans did, piece-by-piece, using his arms and his back. He grabbed a second one, then a third.
Stefan was next to him. He grabbed a rock and started pulling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Lawson was on his other side. He grabbed another one, moving it. Mitchell looked up at them, shouting to be heard over the rain.
“Thank you.”
“Fuck,” Lawson yelled back. “If Ava was in there I’d do the same damn thing.”
Stefan nodded. “We just need to make enough of a hole that we can crawl through.”
That was right. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just had to be good enough. The problem was that he wasn’t at all certain they were ever going to get through. They were blocked magically and more rocks kept appearing. Whatever spell this was, right then it was winning.
Mitchell threw the rock he held behind him and roared to the sky. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. All of it matched his mood.
“We’ll think of something else,” Stefan shouted at him.
He shook his head. “I promised her. I told her to believe in me. I told her I would fix this, that I would save her. And she is past where I can get. She is mine, and she is on the other side of those rocks.”
Stefan nodded. “I almost lost Kim to a hex. I get it.”
Lawson looked between them. “I was pretty sure I’d lost Ava to you, Mitchell.”
Mitchell snorted. He didn’t know why that was funny but right then it was the most amusing fucking thing he’d ever heard. Soon after, he was downright laughing. So was Stefan and eventually Lawson. They were all cracking up in the rain like they were deranged.
Mitchell turned toward the rocks. “Let me in,” he hollered at the inanimate objects. “Let me in, damn you.”
He threw a rock at the rock pile. Yes, he’d lost his mind. He should go back home and put up a board. Read how people got through magical force fields. Figure out where Sebastian and Trident went. He should do all those things. But he wasn’t. He was throwing rocks at rocks while he bellowed like a lunatic.
“Come on,” he yelled, not caring who heard him. “Give me a break. Just one little break.” He threw another rock, then another one. It was going to solve nothing but for half a minute it felt good. Then, the rocks in front of him started to rumble. Mitchell stood frozen, staring up at them.
Lawson grabbed his arm, yanking him backward before popping them both out of the way. They reemerged a distance back to watch all of the rocks falling over. Stefan had made it out, too. They all stood, open mouthed, witnessing the massive pile of rocks scattering everywhere to reveal an entrance to a cave.
“How did that happen?” Stefan voiced the question that Mitchell had also thought.
Lawson shook his head. “I don’t have a clue.”
“It might be,” Mitchell tried to clear his head from its rain soaked, emotion ridden mess, “like when an electronic breaks. And you try everything to fix it. Zap it with every spell you
can think of. Tinker with it. And then eventually you give it a kick and for whatever reason it works?”
Lawson nodded. “Sometimes I throw it.”
“For real?” Stefan stared between them. “You two go around fixing your electronics by throwing and kicking them? What is the matter with the two of you?”
Mitchell would delve into his impatience with things breaking another time. Instead, the second the rocks stopped flying he popped forward to the entrance of the cave. It was dark inside, no visible light to be seen.
“I think we should do this cautiously,” Lawson told him. “Step by step. We can’t be sure they’re not luring us in there to trap us and then what good will any of us be to Eleanor then?”
Mitchell was sure that was a reasoned argument. He just didn’t care. “You two go cautiously. I’m going right in. Come in and save me if I’m being an idiot. Or better yet, save Eleanor, and if I’m still around to be saved, then me.”
He popped forward into the cave, stopping when he was sure he had solid ground beneath him. Over and over. It must have been miles into the structure before he came into a room. There was no way any of this was made from nature. Someone had constructed these caves, and when this was over and he had his Eleanor back, he might find that interesting enough to study.
Not now.
“I told you we’d have visitors.” Eleanor clapped her hands together at his arrival. It took him no time to realize it wasn’t really Eleanor speaking. “We want people to come inside. If this is to work, everyone needs to feel welcome.”
Mitchell tampered down the revulsion that hearing someone else speak through Eleanor’s mouth brought him. He’d been reckless and careless since he’d woken up but no more. The time for logic presented itself. He wouldn’t screw this up.
He quickly scanned the room. Three dozen people were on their knees, chanting. There were also dead bodies all over the side of the cave walls. He was going to ignore them for the moment. What was more interesting were the two people on their knees in the front center. Trident and Sebastian. Okay, he steeled his back. So much for friendship. Those two had known she was here, and they hadn’t reached out to him.
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