by Sierra Cross
From the other side of the closet door, I heard voices.
Callie’s sweet southern lilt was full of tension. “But you said these young witches would make the best Splinters, the best lieutenants. You haven’t even turned the whole school yet. We need more time—”
“Time is a luxury we no longer have.” It was Tenebris. Shit. My fear doubled as I felt how hard Liv was fighting to keep her breathing silent. “The coven’s found us. That necessitates a change of plan. If you wish to remain my second, you must learn to be flexible as well as obedient.”
“Yes, Tenebris.” Callie’s voice came out softer, more yielding. “Please tell me, what’s the new plan?”
“We take the thralls we’ve got and get out of here.”
Tenebris was about to kidnap the young witches, and vanish again? An overwhelming mix of fear and anger surged in Liv’s body.
The Splinter asked the question I was thinking. “And go where?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about that. Easy enough to find another school filled with young delectables that I can now easily turn. Thanks to the amulet.”
“And it will allow you to create more Splinters—”
“Callista, asked and answered. There will be no more Splinters, period.” Tenebris was reacting to the same jealousy and ambition I’d seen the Splinter display with Aunt Jenn. But unlike my aunt, the demon’s patience was wearing thin with his creation. “A turned minion is much more reliable.”
“How can you say that?” The Splinter’s voice turned vixenish. “I’m devoted to you—”
“Enough.” He silenced her and continued as if she hadn’t interjected. “...and we’ve had good word from our team on the Egypt expedition. With any luck we’ll soon have the spell to boost the power of the amulet a hundredfold…” A HUNDRED FOLD? Holy shit.
At that horrifying thought, Liv lost her battle to stay silent and sucked in a ragged breath. The sound was monstrously loud to my ears. Shit. Shit. Shit. Had they heard? Liv’s hands were trembling as she raised her arms, about to call her magic to protect herself. Bad idea. Even if she were able to maintain the glamour and bring her magic, they would still know she was an imposter. The color of her power would be all wrong. She must’ve come to the same conclusion and put her hands back at her side. I felt her trying to swallow, but her throat was a desert.
The Caedis and the Splinter just went on talking. They hadn’t heard anything.
“And Callista,” Tenebris said from farther away, like he was out in the hallway. “Don’t waste time packing that sexy wardrobe of yours. We’ll replace it. Just get the girls ready to go. That’s a lot of energy signatures you’ll have to tamp down. Spend the time to do it right.”
“Whatever you say, my dear.” The Splinter’s tone had gone entirely submissive. My dear? Sexy wardrobe? What kind of twisted relationship did they have?
I heard Callie’s footsteps on the hardwood floor walking away. Liv was starting to breathe normally. But she was about a million miles from calm. She must have sensed that I was with her because she formed the okay symbol in front of her own face. But when she moved her arm, her hand brushed up against one of Callie’s tank tops. It slid off the hanger. I watched in slow motion horror as the empty hanger swung wide and hit the hanger next to it. Rattling the whole line of hangers. The footsteps stopped.
And turned back around.
A hand yanked the closet door open, blinding us with the flood of light. Callie slammed the hangers out of the way and was staring Liv right in the eye.
Not Liv. Bethany. Despite the blood pounding in her ears, Liv had kept her shit together. She held onto the glamour by her magical fingertips.
“What the hell are you doing in my closet, you little maggot?” The Splinter’s cold eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I…um…I…” And Liv started to cry. I couldn’t tell if it was an act or if Liv was genuinely losing it. I felt her magic building at her core. She was planning to stun the Splinter with a small firebolt, then spellbead the hell out with Callie in tow. “I just want to go home,” Liv play-acted a whining tone. “I miss my mom and dad.” She took a step forward, to get a better shot.
It all moved so fast I could barely figure out what was happening. The Splinter yanked Liv’s arm, and I felt the glamour pop like a bubble. The Splinter stumbled back, eyes wide in revulsion? Terror? Liv’s magic glowed on her fingertips. But the Splinter was faster and threw a green blast that Liv barely had time to deflect.
Liv was more drained than she’d realized. Holding that glamour had really taken a toll on her reserves. The Splinter cocked her arm, ready to throw a high-powered blast. Then she just froze, like a malfunctioning robot. Liv stared at the blast still on her fingertips. For god’s sake, Liv, grab her and spellbead out of there! But Liv seemed transfixed by the Splinter’s face, contorting like a mask stretched out of shape.
With jerky staccato movements, the Splinter turned and looked down at Liv. “Ruuuun!” The word was a shriek and a prayer. It was pained and desperate.
It was Callie.
Instantly her face refocused, and the green blast left her fingers, careening toward Liv’s heart. Snapping into gear, Liv hit the floor. I heard the sizzle of cloth singed by fire, but Liv was already pounding through the tiny plush studio apartment and out into the hall.
Adrenaline and terror pumped her muscles, propelled her forward. Into the stairwell. Leaping down stairs three at a time. Her jaw clenched, road rash burning her palms from grasping the rails to keep from falling. She yanked open the metal door and raced out onto the first floor. A red exit sign marked the end of the corridor. Bam. Like a bowling ball crashing into pins, she ran into a group of students coming out of the bathroom. Startled screams filled the hallway. Liv went down in the tangle of limbs.
Scraping her palms on the rough carpet, Liv scrambled to her feet. Green fire whizzed by her ear. Fuck. The Splinter had caught up. Not running, but somehow moving incredibly fast with long, purposeful strides that seemed to defy gravity. A second green firebolt crackled and burned across her shoulder, and Liv stumbled. No, no, no. The pain radiated like a bomb exploding into her skin. Gasping, Liv flipped over and gazed up at the Splinter. At Callie’s perfect face. There was murder in the evil creature’s eyes as she formed a kill shot on her hand.
“Stop!” It was Tenebris’s voice. Then he too was looking down at Liv. “This one will be a nice addition to our crew.”
“But Tenebris—” Callie’s tone was sharp and challenging, like a dog that had forgotten its master was the one who fed it.
“Enough.” As he spoke the command, he began to twirl a black smoke on the ends of his fingers. With a flourish, he flung it at Liv.
It was sticky, more like gum than smoke. And it was self-directed, aiming for Liv’s nostrils. Liv flailed and wiped furiously, but the black substance slipped past her efforts and into her lungs. Liv cried out in shock, not pain.
And then, nothing but blackness.
I opened my eyes, flailing in a tangle of sheets. Matt’s hands were on my shoulders, trying to keep me still. Where was I? He must’ve brought me inside. “Liv!” It all snapped together in my brain with a sickening clarity. “They’ve captured her.” I hung my head in my hands. “And they’re about to leave, with all the students they’ve turned.”
Matt ran his hand up my back. “It’s going to be all right,” he said soothingly. When I raised my face, his hand stopped moving. He looked startled. Had I thought I was crying again?
But I was miles from crumbling. I was rage and anger. I was the fire that would stop that demon and get my coven sister back. “It will be all right,” I said. “Because we’re going kill that bastard right now.”
Chapter Six
The black leather bag sitting on the car seat next to me felt like a ticking time bomb.
My foot tapped of its own accord, rhythmically bouncing against the plastic console between the car seats. Wes sat in front of me in the driver’s seat, uncha
racteristically silent. On the other side of the leather bag, Bonaventura glanced from my boot to me, narrowing his eyes as if that withering look would make me behave. Whatever. Executing a complex spell under the most stressful of circumstances was going to make me nervous. He could just deal with it.
We were parked at the edge of the campus, waiting for Asher to finish coaching Matt through his first ward-picking exercise. Coatless and barefoot, Griffin stood nearby, stretching out his shoulders and watching my coven mates’ progress. Though I couldn’t see them all, I knew the rest of Bonaventura’s crack team were strategically placed in the woods, ready to move on his command. We were within the deactivation spell’s range, but just barely.
I just prayed Tenebris hadn’t already spirited away the girls—and Liv—to some other warded location.
Griffin leaned in through the open window of the SUV. “Once we get inside the ward,” he said, “Asher says you’ll have about two minutes to perform the deactivation spell before they detect our presence.”
“Great.” I looked at the black bag. “No pressure there.”
“There is no margin for error on this, Ms. Hill,” Bonaventura said from the seat next to me. “Nut. Up.”
Look at him. All colloquial. “No shit.” As if I didn’t know what was at stake.
“No, not a punch, mate. A slice.” Asher was instructing Matt. My guardian’s amalgam power stretched out in front of him, a glowing white line. He was trying to draw down the face of the ward, but when he pushed too hard, the line spread, more like a bruise than a slice. Asher winced. “With finesse, you big lug. Think of your blades.”
Sucking in a breath, Matt focused the shimmering power like a laser, and it etched a path down the barrier that was keeping us out.
“Yes.” Asher clapped his hands, victorious. “He can be taught.”
As the white, crystalline seam stretched from the top of the ward to the bottom, it started to pucker and split in spots. The ward was on the verge of giving way.
“Wait for the signal,” Griffin told Wes. “Pull through, no more than ten feet.” He looked at me. “The witch performs the spell. Then we advance.”
From the leather bag, I pulled a thin wooden board and placed it across my lap. I set the vial of Wes’s blood at the center and removed the cap. The scent of copper and nutmeg filled the car, sweet and thick. Wes shifted in his seat, absent-mindedly rubbing the spot on his throat that had been ripped open to get this. Next, I gently took out a burlap bag—it felt heavy in my hands, not just because of its weight. I couldn’t help thinking of the young woman whose ashes were inside. Bonaventura’s feeder, whose life Wes took away just because her soul was pure. He extracted that purity like it was a diamond from the earth. Like she was an object, not a person…I took a deep breath and forced myself to shelve my deep rage at what Wes had done. My being distracted and off my game wouldn’t bring the murdered woman back to life. But if I pulled this off, at least I could see to it that some good came of her death. Carefully, I poured the ashes in a perfect circle on the board.
It had been easy to convince Bonaventura to move up the timing of the attack. Once I explained what I’d seen, he didn’t hesitate to mobilize his people. I suspected I had a chewing out in my future though. But what else was new?
As part of their preparation, all the vamps had “blooded up.” Which meant we had to witness some feedings. If I never saw that again, it would be too soon. The bloodstained lips, blood smearing across their teeth and elongated fangs, eyes rolling back in their heads as a spasm of ecstasy hit both vamp and feeder. TMI. And Wes and his boy toy feeder adding PDA clearly to piss off his father was more of the “no” to my brain. So they were having sex. Big whoop. It was obvious without all the show and tell. He was acting like a teenager trying to press his father’s buttons. You’d think after a few centuries he’d grow out of that.
I clenched my fingers on the edges of the board. A puff of blue blinked for a split second on Matt’s hand, and I felt a pop in the energy that permeated the air. The ward had been breached. Wes inched the SUV forward, and bile sloshed in my stomach. Pulling up the spell on my phone, I couldn’t help but think how much better Liv or Asher would have been at performing this task. Yet another responsibility thrust upon me that I wasn’t sure I was cut out for. I bit the inside of my cheek hard. The coppery taste of blood covered my tongue.
Note to self, that was the wrong self-distraction technique to use in a car full of vampires.
Wes jerked his head around, nostrils flaring. “We’re boned. She’s caving. This witch is gonna be useless.”
“Miss Hill, do we have a problem?” Bonaventura raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve got this.” My words were sharp and strong, but my gut felt like jelly. I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t handle seeing the doubt in their eyes. The circle of our coven bond was incomplete. While I felt everyone’s presence, I couldn’t draw much power from them. This bad boy was all me. My hand shook as I poured Wes’s blood into the circle of ash, careful to mimic the shape exactly. I put the vial back down and covered my fingertips with the thick crimson liquid. My stomach lurched, but I redirected my thoughts, calling my magic to my fingertips. It flared like fire on lighter fluid, burning a dark auburn instead of gold. I touched the fire to the circle. It ignited in a single burst. Careful with my movements. Keeping them confined and slow.
My lips started moving, the well-practiced words tripping across my tongue, stilted and clumsy. Wes groaned as commentary to my labored spellcasting. Screw him. I paused, inhaling deeply, feeling my lungs expand. And something else. I felt my own magic. A still pool deep beneath the surface, unaffected by nerves. It was a legacy of my mother’s magic and her mother’s before her. My birthright. I began again, powering the spell with breath and the knowledge that I was a witch of the Coven of Fire by blood. Power ignited my words. The phrases were tangible wisps that left my tongue tingling as they floated out of the SUV and into the night. Spellsifts, they were called. I’d read about them in the section on ancient magic in my mother’s tome. Like a school of amber fish, they darted back and forth, seeking. Then finding. In a blink, the spellsifts were out of view, but I felt their power surge. White light blinded me, the ground shook, my bones rattled. I felt a surge of power emanating from the relic within the amulet—like it was struggling not to be separating from this realm. Then nothing.
I did it. The spell was done. The amulet was deactivated.
I climbed out of the SUV. My muscles felt soupy, like post-workout rubber. It didn’t help that I was wearing a heavy wardsuit. I bent forward, trying to re-establish a normal pattern of breathing. Crap. Vampires were rushing past me at super speed, racing in the direction the spellsifts had gone. Matt was near the front of the pack with Bonaventura and his sons. Asher wasn’t far behind. I stumbled forward trying to catch up.
The first of Bonaventura’s crew were heading into Hamilton Hall. The closer I got to it, the deeper the razors of dark magic cut into my skin. Campus alarms blared, shrill and loud. What security force were they calling into action? Surely the scale of this dark magic would send the campus guards scrambling for outside help. After their lame reaction to us back in the office, they clearly couldn’t handle much. They hadn’t even realized their boss was a Caedis. The Magicborn Channel reporters were going to have a field day covering this story.
Lights came on in the darkened dorm buildings. Knowing that Caedis magic must be detectable throughout the school gave me small solace. Alerting the light witch students to “Dean Weller’s” true nature could protect them—if they had the sense to stay away from the scene.
I stepped into the foyer. It felt like Millennium Dynamics on steroids. Razorblade city. Even without the power of the amulet, Tenebris was still stronger than the last time we’d met. I had to battle nausea with every step. It wasn’t just that his signature was unmasked. He was actively engaging his demonic power, letting it flow at full strength. What kind of spell was he casting?
Anything that required so much juice couldn’t be good.
Two young witches—I remembered them from Tenebris’s office—headed in the direction of the gym, scurrying to make up for their tardiness. The vampires picked up their pace but waited for the signal before following the two girls through the gym doors. I felt a pang of fear for the young witches. Matt, Asher, and I had all agreed to throw non-lethal blasts at the girls. But I was not feeling warm and fuzzy about Bonaventura’s assurances to spare them. Did vampires have a setting other than lethal?
Quick, light footsteps behind me. Another latecomer to the party? I spun to see one of the snowballers, running along the wall, red firebolt on her fingers. Wes noticed her at the same time I did. His lip curled. From the edge of the pack, he charged her with preternatural speed. Everything about him said murder, not restraint.
“She’s just a kid,” I protested as Wes leapt. The trajectory of his jump would have him on top of her. I flung a blast, as hard as I could, hoping to force him off course.
Too late I saw the girl had loosed her firebolt.
Not at the vampire of death that was about to pounce on her. At me.
Pain radiated from my ear down and lit up my entire body like I’d hit the third rail. I collapsed on the marble floor, muscles contracting and releasing as my body convulsed. I’d expected that my wardsuit would absorb her blast easily.
Bad assumption. My face was pressed into the inlay of the Wellspring coat of arms. Drool ran down my cheek. Much to my surprise her firebolt had been perfectly aimed at my head. While the spell of the wardsuit offered protection even on the areas it didn’t physically cover, those were its weakest points—head, hands, feet. I’d hate to think what this blast would’ve done if I’d had no protection at all.
“Advance!” Bonaventura yelled. The crew swarmed forward into the gym.
My limbs wouldn’t obey me. I couldn’t move, and fire burned across my stomach. Panic was blowing up in my brain. I need to be in there. A hand ran over my wounds.