Mac’s warning rang in my head. What if he really was going to take me to some farm out in East Bum-fuck and kill me? Or worse…
I sucked in a breath and lunged at him, clamping my fingers over his forearm. Then I funneled the last little store of energy his way. It was wild, out of control, springing from me like an attack dog unleashed. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried.
Rafe screamed and jerked to the left, plastering himself against his door. His face was a mask of fury as he fought to shake me off. When that didn’t work, he sent a balled fist into my stomach, and damn, it hurt, but I fought through the pain, pushing harder, making a thin crack in the block he’d erected. And there it was. One crystal-clear memory at the forefront of his mind.
The kid is so weak anyway, it won’t take much. That’s too bad. The fight is half the fun. A rush of pleasure coursing through me as I tug the tubes and mash the pillow over his pasty face. The bitch is going down for this.
The memory fizzled and disappeared with a snap. A second later, excruciating pain as something that felt like an anvil connected with my temple, and then I was knocked out cold.
…
Rafe killed Eric.
That was my first realization upon waking. That twat-bucket had killed a kid and blamed it on me. It didn’t change the fact that I’d put Eric in the coma. That part was still on me, but Rafe had killed him.
If I had the strength to cry, I would have. I was a lot of things, some of them not good, but I wasn’t a murderer.
My second realization was that I was on my knees, chained to a wall, with a pounding headache and so weak I could barely hold my head up.
Flashes of what had gotten me to that point ran through my mind. A fight. Rafe and I had duked it out, then at some point I’d woken up to find myself in the trunk of the car, bound and probably concussed. That part was a blessing because I had passed out again before I could fully comprehend that I was locked in a tight, dark space with little hope of getting out alive.
Sort of like now.
I jerked against the chains, but they barely moved. I tried to control my breathing in hopes of staving off my second panic attack in less than twenty-four hours.
Had he brought me to the Sacred Grove like he promised or to his secret basement slaughterhouse where he was going to keep me as a pet? I racked my brain, trying to remember what had happened next. I remembered seeing leaves, lots of leaves as I’d bounced around, my stomach jammed against something hard. That was it. Rafe had carried me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes for a long while before barreling into a thatch of low pricker bushes like they were nothing but a patch of dandelions.
By the time we’d gotten through the bramble and came out the other side, I was riddled with tiny, stinging scratches, but I couldn’t even make my mouth move to protest. What had he done to me?
Eventually, we had stopped in front of a wall of trees. He laid a hand on the bark and suddenly, they parted, forming an inverted Y with enough space for us to walk through. It was still full daylight, but the opening was black as night, and when he stepped through, I tried to struggle. He could have been tossing me off a cliff into a dead drop.
A free-fall into the bowels of hell, for all I knew.
His laugh had made me wish I hadn’t bothered trying. “Lithium. Your kind can’t handle it. You’ll be useless for hours. I should have given it to you from the start,” he muttered.
With no choice but to let myself get dragged into that fathomless blackness, I had turned to stare back until the trees closed behind us, eclipsing the very last sliver of sunshine because what if I never saw it again? A very real possibility, getting realer by the second as I stared around at my tiny prison.
Four stone walls. No window. If my choices were this or death, I hoped they killed me. The sadness came again, sharp and clear through the fog. I thought of my mom and said a silent prayer that this didn’t break her. And then there was Mac. On his knees, begging me to listen, and I’d walked away. Fucking idiot.
“Time to rise and shine, bitch.”
Rafe stood before me and pushed an ancient key into the lock. It tumbled and the door swung open. I had grand delusions of finding something to bash his murdering head in with and then making a break for it, but even if I could’ve gotten free of the chains, I couldn’t have walked away, never mind ran.
He knew that, and he wasted no time in shoving me onto my face on the stone floor, so he could unlock the shackles around my wrists. I saw stars, and a burst of white light flickered behind my eyelids. Bastard.
“The Council is ready for you.”
So not in his basement, then. I wanted to cheer because, of the two evils I’d imagined, that was by far the lesser, but I didn’t have the strength to do more than dangle uselessly against him as he half dragged, half carried me from my cell through a dank, dark chamber. Just when my eyes had started to adjust and I could make out the craggy walls, the light flooded in again.
I blinked hard and slowed, panic lapping at me as I fought to see through the haze of red and white from the sudden brightness.
“Ready?” he asked, pushing me away from him and sending a cold, questioning glare in my direction. But underneath it was a hint of fear. Did he know what I’d seen in his head? Did he know what I knew?
He held my gaze for a long time, waiting for…something. I considered my options and decided to stay quiet. Accusing him of killing Eric would only tip my hand, and if I really was going to see the Council, I didn’t need him prepped ahead of time for what I was about to tell them.
He stepped toward me, feet apart, one loose fist by his shoulder, the other near his chin in a way I recognized. Fighting stance. Like he thought—or hoped, maybe?—that, even though my power was useless, I’d be able to muster the will for some hand-to-hand combat. I didn’t even have the energy to laugh.
“I asked if you were ready.”
I shook my head, sending a blast of pain through my temple, sharp enough to make my ears ring. “Nope.”
His smile was pure ice. “Too fucking bad.”
He grabbed me almost off my feet and shoved me forward into the sunlight.
The scent of fresh air and pine trees filled my nostrils, and I sucked deep breaths in greedily, hoping it would clear my muzzy mind. It didn’t, but just getting some distance from the claustrophobic caverns and my cell made me feel less panicky.
When my eyes adjusted completely, I took in my surroundings and stopped short. It was like a dream. Tall, hulking chunks of granite that looked like they’d been plucked straight from Stonehenge were strewn around to encircle a large clearing, big enough to host a sporting event. A second tier of lush fauna bisected the space like the balcony of a theater made of ferns and plants. In the center of it sat a thick slab of marble and three chairs.
It was like we’d fallen through the looking glass and nothing was totally familiar. There was grass covering the ground, but it was the oddest shade of green, almost emerald, and had an incandescent quality like something from another world. Even in my sorry state, it was hard to stop myself from crouching low to touch a shimmering blade.
Fat mushrooms dotted the carpet of grass and flowers bloomed left and right, kissed with tiny drops of dew. Dew, not frost? Only ten hours away from New Hampshire in January, and it was as pleasant as a September morning. Part of me was expecting someone to cue some Enya music.
“Step forward.” Rafe interrupted my scattered thoughts, elbowing me in the ribs before I even had a chance to react to his command, and the blow sent me stumbling a few feet to the right.
When I’d almost caught myself from falling, he pressed a rough hand to my shoulder and forced me to the ground. The pretty grass was all show, slicing at my skin like tiny razors through the rips in my jeans.
In my semi-delirium, I vowed not to order the mushroom soup, and a tickle of laughter bubbled up my throat. Shit, not now. I was already a mess and hysteria wouldn’t help the matter. Plus the grass fucking h
urt, and I wanted up, like, now.
“Can I just—” I tried to stand but he wasn’t having it, shoving me down again and wrenching my arms behind my back to cuff me.
Pain wracked through my shoulders, and I swallowed a sob. God, my body ached. My mind ached. My heart fucking ached so much, I felt beat. Lost. How was I going to convince the Council of anything? I had no proof, no strength, and I could barely stand, never mind fight for my life and freedom.
A rustle of leaves caught my attention, and I gingerly raised my head in the direction of the sound. Three women dressed in flowing white robes filed through a narrow space in a copse of trees toward the balcony at the center of the clearing. The one leading the pack was a thousand years old if she was a day and clutched a book in her wrinkled hands. The other two looked younger, around my mother’s age. They made their way up what seemed to be a hidden twenty-foot-high staircase snaking up the side of the raised seating area. Lovely. They would literally stare down at me, judge me from on high, and then pass down my sentence. Intimidating much?
I wished death by lopping shears on Rafe for not at least letting me stand up. I felt like a sitting duck, complete with Peking sauce.
“This is Maggie Raynard,” Rafe pronounced needlessly. They obviously knew who I was, but he seemed anxious for praise like a blockheaded retriever wanting a pat for delivering his master’s morning paper. Dickbag.
I glared at him from my kneeling position, wishing I could give him a fucking head pat of the kardia Aphrodite variety, but since that was the whole reason I was there, it probably would have been bad form anyway.
“Maggie,” the one in the center said softly as they settled into their seats. “We’ve been waiting for you. I’m Bryony.”
The slimmer of the younger two leveled me with a cold stare. “Floryn.”
“And I’m Marigold.” She was the prettiest of the three, with flaming red hair and ivory skin, and she was the only one who offered a smile, albeit a tight one.
Bryony leaned forward, set her book down, and folded her hands together on the long table in front of her. “I won’t mince words. We’ve discussed our options, and based on your recent attack upon one of our emissaries, in addition to the intelligence we received regarding the condition and subsequent death of one Eric Nelson, we’ve decided there is no need for further investigation.”
I closed my eyes and let her words soak into my weary brain. Not good.
“I know you’re anxious, and this is a stressful time, so I won’t prolong this any further.” She shifted in her seat and clutched her hands more tightly together, but her voice was as steady as the marble slab in front of her. “Our laws are very clear on this matter.” She patted the leather tome reverently. “And I’m afraid we have no other choice. You’re hereby sentenced to death by hanging.”
Chapter Twenty
Hanging.
She dropped that bomb with the same emotion one would put behind ordering the turkey club at a diner. For a second, I thought I’d heard her wrong, but she shut that thought down by continuing on with the details.
“We will endeavor to make it as painless as possible, as is true for your stay here with us. You will be held in the Sacred Grove until you come of age three months hence and your sentence can be imposed.”
In my weakened state, I barely flinched. I was so detached, so overwhelmed and mentally scrambled, it was like I was listening to a television set in another room. I couldn’t even muster the strength to argue.
Not that it mattered. They hadn’t even asked to hear my side and even if they had, it didn’t change the fact that I had no way to prove my claims about Rafe. And frankly, if I was the Council and dead-girl-walking started pointing fingers and throwing out wild accusations after hearing her sentence, I wouldn’t believe her either.
Mac had been right. I should’ve run.
Mac.
He would never know about Rafe killing Eric. He would never know that I wasn’t a murderer, and that hurt most of all. I flexed my fingers and reached into my back pocket, hoping with everything I had in me that it was still there. The ring. Mac.
As soon as I touched it, my fingertips traced the smooth, braided silver and a low hum of power coursed through me. I felt his essence all around me and although the energy it gave off wasn’t enough to offset the full effect of the lithium and my exhaustion, it was enough that I was able to think straight.
How in the world had things gotten so fucked up? I was just sentenced to die for the crimes of some asshole who had murdered my ex in cold blood. It didn’t matter whether they believed me. I was sure as shit going to say my piece.
I swallowed hard, trying to work up enough moisture in my mouth to project more than a croak when Bryony scooped up her book. The Council rose as one without sparing me another glace and started to file out, but my voice had them stopping in their tracks.
“I didn’t—” I broke off and cleared my throat of the rasp and tried again. “I didn’t kill him.”
Rafe whirled around to look down at me and frowned, his dark eyes going a little wild. “Shut up. You aren’t allowed to speak. Sentencing is over. It’s done.” He lifted a boot and kicked at me, connecting with my hip bone. A sharp bark from above stopped his second blow from landing.
“Enough! We’re not barbarians.” This from Bryony, who scowled at him. She turned her cool gaze on me. “Child, we have already made our determination,” she said, her jowls trembling as she spoke. “We are well aware of the motor vehicle accident, but it was your powers that caused him to veer off the road in the first place. That directly resulted in his death. There is no point in denying it.”
I squeezed the braided band of silver and attempted to stand, but it was no use. My legs were still like two limp dishrags folded beneath me. “Rafe is a liar.”
Rafe’s escalating growl made me cringe. With my hands behind my back, my middle was wide open and I was totally exposed, like a turtle without a shell. I fully expected a boot to the gut, but nothing was going to stop me from spitting out the rest. “He’s the one who killed Eric. I admit the accident was my fault. And I admit to grabbing Rafe on the way to meet with you last night, but he’s the murderer, not me.”
The blow I’d been prepping for finally came, and he must have really put his back into it because it was a doozy. Light exploded behind my eyelids as a size twelve shit-kicker nailed me in the kidney and I pitched sideways. Without a free hand to break my fall, I landed on the side of my face, my wounded temple taking the brunt of the impact along with the punishment that adorable grass meted out. On a scale of one to just-fucking-kill-me-now, it was balls to the wall the latter. If little animated birds had started fluttering around my head in a circle, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
Through the buzzing in my ears I could hear shouts, but I couldn’t say from where. Operating from the better-safe-than-sorry school of thought, I curled my knees into my chest in anticipation of another blow, but it never came.
I forced my eyes open and looked around, trying to breathe through the tearing agony in my side. Rafe was on the ground facedown and Mac was standing over him, pale-faced and trembling with fury. My heart leapt and the joy in my heart eclipsed the pain in my body.
For a second I thought I was imagining it. Was he really there or was he the product of a drug- and pain-induced hallucination? I squirmed, feeling the blades of grass cutting into my face, and finally made it to a sitting position just as Mac planted his foot into Rafe’s gut, kicking him onto his back.
“Get up, you piece of shit.” The cords of Mac’s neck stood out and his chest heaved. I might be sentenced to hang, but I wasn’t dead yet, and Jesus, he was a glorious sight. Tears puddled in my eyes and trailed down my cheek, the salt stinging the lacerations on my face. I didn’t give two shits, though, because Mac was here.
I tried to push myself to my feet…to go to him, but suddenly, I couldn’t move at all. Something intangible had me pinned in place. I shot a glance up toward the Co
uncil’s table and saw Marigold pointing a finger at me and shaking her head. “Be still, Maggie Raynard, or it will only get worse for you.”
“Cormac, son of Cormac, step away from him and explain yourself,” Floryn demanded coolly.
Mac waffled, his rage-filled gaze flicking between Rafe and the Council like he was debating whether or not he could get off another shot before he got zapped by some demi-god bolt of something bad.
“Mac,” I murmured. “Please. Do what they tell you.” If he got hurt after coming here to defend me, I’d just as soon they hung me.
He cracked his knuckles, sparing one last disgusted glance at Rafe before facing me. “Are you all right?” His eyes went from furious to full of concern and regret. “Please tell me you’re all right.”
“I won’t ask you again, Cormac.” Floryn raised a hand in Mac’s direction, and I gave him a pleading look. He sighed and turned to face the Council.
“I’ve come to vouch for this girl.”
He moved closer, to stand directly beside me. If I could just turn around, I might be able to touch him one more time.
“If she says Rafe murdered Eric, then it’s true.”
And then he was there. Kneeling next to me, slipping his hand in mine, and I wished I had control of my body so I could sink into him. The energy that always crackled between us was barely a sizzle but it was there, and that alone gave me a feeling of peace. Whatever happened now, it was all right. Mac was here, and he would know the truth about what happened to Eric.
I heard a shuffling and saw Rafe rising in my peripheral. He hadn’t even gotten all the way to his feet when he lunged at a kneeling Mac with a roar.
He was only a few inches away when he froze in midair.
“Enough of this insubordination!” Bryony’s splayed hand was aimed at Rafe and even though she was pissed off at the lot of us, I could’ve kissed her for stopping him. “We can hold you for an eternity if that’s what it takes.”
Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) Page 27