War Witch

by Layla Nash

  Turn away. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even cover my ears to block the sound of their panic. If I didn’t see it, maybe it wouldn’t be real.

  Rosa sucked in power and knocked the younger witch out of the way. Lauren stumbled back, safe, but the demon wasn’t picky. It bit Rosa instead.

  She screamed.

  I pressed my lips together as the first spray of blood coated the ghostly furniture.

  Rosa flailed and hexed, battling as a true war witch did even when she was down and hurt and a demon clawed her guts. The demon turned for Betty, and Rosa caught it, dragging it back. It turned her green, healing magic into daggers.

  Anne Marie startled out of her trance and clapped her hands together, dropping the book as she tried to regain control of the circle. “What the—”

  Joanne shoved Betty out of her way and flung a staying ward at the demon to keep it from hurting anyone else. “Andre, Tracy! Here.”

  The true names agitated the magic, and the demon squalled as it struggled against the ward. Andre cleared the couch like an Olympic hurdler, seizing Joanne’s hand to combine their power as they lifted the demon off Rosa. Desiree stumbled, spattered with Rosa’s blood. “Is that a—”

  Joanne’s face froze in a snarl as she kicked the girl toward Rosa. “Help her, you idiot.”

  She clutched Tracy’s hand and said, “Stay strong, Rosita. We’re here. We’ll—”

  She and Tracy and Andre dodged the demon and slowly calmed as they slid into their war witch personas, flashing back to real battle. The demon changed and expanded as they struggled to contain it. It absorbed some of their magic and wallowed in Rosa’s blood as she tried to drag herself to safety.

  “You can’t kill it like that,” I whispered, reaching out as Joanne argued with Andre and their power diffused, not strong enough to finish it off. “You’re just—you’re feeding it.”

  Bile rose in my throat and swamped my mouth as Desiree crouched by Rosa and tried to staunch the blood pouring from her side and legs. Betty sat in the middle of the room, clapped her hands over her ears, and sobbed as she rocked back and forth.

  The demon scrambled around the circle and away from Andre’s efforts to contain it. It found Joanne before she could ward or jump out of the way, and grabbed her leg. Tore it away. She screamed and fell, and Andre blasted the demon as Tracy dove out of the way and fell onto the couch. The demon rampaged as it consumed Joanne’s flesh, and Desiree dragged Rosa’s limp body toward the back bedroom, leaving a river of red behind.

  Rosa wasn’t moving.

  “No,” I said, gasping for breath. I struggled against something constricting my chest. It couldn’t get worse. It just couldn’t get worse. “You’ll break the—”

  The coven circle disintegrated as Desiree fell through, Rosa’s blood destroying the spell, and the magic snapped through all of the witches, knocking them off balance still more. Anne Marie fumbled for the emergency alert ward glowing on the wall, but her hand stopped short with a crack as she hit the second circle, a cascade of sparks flowing out. Tracy’s circle.

  I shook my head, chewing my lip ragged.

  Anne Marie cried out, cradling her hand. “What the hell?”

  The demon rolled and tumbled, carrying Joanne’s bones, and Jacques and Anne Marie battled to protect Desiree and Betty. Andre comforted Joanne, slowing the bleeding with all his power as Betty reverted to screaming and clinging to Lauren. The demon oozed around, tired of attacking the Morrigan, and found Andre.

  I tried to look away. I desperately tried to look away. Even Anne Marie started screaming, hexing randomly as the demon slid through the blood and she couldn’t escape. Lauren crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

  Andre cradled Joanne as she shivered, pale and bruised as her blood drained away. He tried to protect her. He sheltered her from the demon’s claws. They curled into each other for comfort. They were scared, and watched death coming for them. Their power deserted them when they most needed it, and no one saved them.

  No one helped them.

  No one even tried.

  They died. The light in their eyes went out and their hearts stilled and their magic faded and they were dead. Gone.

  Gone.

  I stopped breathing, felt my own heart slow. Felt life fading to a dull echo.

  Not again.

  Betty shoved Tracy out of her way and through the remaining circle, breaking it, and the younger witch bolted out the front door. The demon, finished with Andre, flowed after her, running and tumbling in boneless acrobatics. Betty raced through me and the demon followed. I didn’t flinch as it ghosted through, forcing myself to watch the living room. To witness what followed.

  “Shit,” Tracy said as the demon reached open air.

  Anne Marie, Jacques, and Tracy chased it. Rosa lay limp and silent near the bedroom. Desiree stood in the middle of the room over the unconscious Lauren, face streaked with tears and splattered with blood, and turned in a slow circle. She saw Rosa but only stared, didn’t seem to register her predicament, leaving her guts on the carpet.

  “Help her,” I said, voice catching. “Help her.”

  Desiree’s hands shook as she gathered residual power. Rosa sighed and her soul faded away, her helpful green magic evaporating away to nothingness.

  Desiree raised trembling hands as she faced the door—faced me—and her expression hardened. “You.”

  Power crackled, even through time. She blasted the door, the spell, whoever stood behind me. Me.

  I inhaled when the power should have hit, looking down as a fireball shot through me from behind and collided with Desiree as whoever stood outside attacked. Desiree absorbed the blow but flew into the wall with a wet thump, collapsing in an unmoving heap. And then...

  Silence. Only silence and blood.

  Chapter 37

  Steel bands compressed my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I wondered if Desiree’s hex somehow paralyzed me through time, though I’d never heard of such a thing. I looked down, expected a burn or worse, and saw arms.

  Arms?

  I turned my head and came nose-to-chin with Leif. His red beard scratched my cheek, and his chest made a wall at my back. “Are you here? You’re still with me?”

  “Of course I’m—” I stopped short. My voice broke, unrecognizable and hoarse, and my throat burned as I tried to swallow. I looked around and caught the Styrma watching me with varying degrees of horror and sympathy.

  Leif’s hold trapped my arms. I couldn’t pat my cheeks, but something was wrong. All the muscles in my face hurt. “You have to let me go.”

  “Why?”

  He wasn’t teasing, not even a hint of a joke in his tone. Exasperated, I tried to step away. My legs didn’t respond. I looked down again, past his arms, and saw my knees bent, lifeless and numb. I couldn’t even wiggle my toes. “Are you holding me up? Why are you holding me up?”

  Another shifter crept close and set an unstained chair next to Leif, then retreated in silence.

  The Warder didn’t budge. “Tell me where we are and why we’re here.”

  “I have to dissipate the magic, we can’t just leave—”

  “Tell me, kjaereste.”

  His voice was soft, even sympathetic, but still unyielding. Stubborn wolf. I coughed to get rid of the hoarseness, but my voice still broke twice as I said, “Tracy’s house. We had to reconstruct what…what killed the witches.”

  My heart ached.

  “Good.” Leif’s grip eased as he sat in the chair, though he still held me against his chest and dragged my legs across his thighs.

  I was too tired for embarrassment, particularly with what remained of my magical dispassion, but still—I sat in the man’s lap in front of his friends. It was at least as embarrassing as kissing him in public. I still had a few shreds of dignity to preserve. “You have to let me up, I—”

  “Nope.” Leif tilted his head at Jake, who skirted the edge of the room to take up a ready stance at the Warder’s el
bow. “Kjaereste, tell me what you need and we’ll do it. But you stay here.”

  I fought the urge to rest my head on his shoulder and sleep. “I’m fine. Just...”

  “You’re not fine,” he said, squeezing me. “Kjaereste, you’re nowhere near fine.”

  I wished I knew what he called me, that rough music in the whisper of a nickname. Instead I tried laughing, ignoring the choking sound I made. “Really, I’m fine. This is silly.”

  My gaze drifted to the center of the living room, where the magic remains of Joanne and Andre flickered. A strange keening sound filled the room and I looked around for the source, but as Leif’s arms tightened around me, it cut off and he kissed my shoulder. “It’s okay. It will be okay.”

  So maybe I made that horrible noise. I shook my head woodenly. “I can finish the spell.”

  “You started screaming when that fireball thing hurt Rosa,” he said, rocking me slightly as that sad whine started again. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t choke it back. “And you didn’t stop until that woman hit the wall.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “I did not.”

  “There are two reasons I’m holding you,” he said, talking over my objections. “I grabbed you when you tried to run in after the fighting started. And you didn’t stop. You fought me; you kept trying to get to them.”

  I blinked as the living room went out of focus, and I cleared my throat a couple of times, laugh a little watery. “That’s preposterous. I couldn’t help them. I couldn’t—”

  My voice went high and I stopped. I hated the pity on their faces, hated that Leif’s arms tightened around me once more, an attempt at comfort, and he rested his forehead against my temple. Red pack magic tried to nudge through the frozen disdain of witch magic, but failed. I felt nothing but empty, only an echo of grief. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “The second reason?”

  “You collapsed, when that thing ran through the door. You just—fell.”

  I nodded, and kept nodding mechanically until I feared I might not ever stop. I couldn’t look away from Andre and Joanne, though I regretted that Rosa lay alone near the bedroom, that I couldn’t see more than her legs. I stared at them, crumpled like a child’s dolls thrown aside.

  I blinked, self-conscious as I realized Leif rocked me gently, pressing my head to his shoulder as he shushed me. I tried to straighten and pull away. “What is—”

  Leif turned so Andre and Joanne disappeared from my view, tucking my forehead against his throat so I couldn’t see anything but the broad expanse of his chest. “Tell me how to make it go away.”

  “I’ll do it.” I wanted to push free, but my arms didn’t cooperate.

  “No, kjaereste. I’ll do it. Just tell me how.”

  His gentle tone only made it more difficult to breathe. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, even though I meant to shake my head in defiance. My voice wouldn’t stay in one octave—it kept breaking, going higher, until I sounded like a prepubescent boy. “No. I ha-have to do it.”

  “Lily.” He said my name like a secret, and it shivered deep into me as it glided through my magic and settled around my heart. He leaned his head against mine. “Baby, you haven’t stopped crying since that monster hurt Rosa.”

  I blinked, felt the weight of my eyelashes and knew he was right. My eyes felt too big for my skull, and my head pounded, and even magic couldn’t really dull the pain and grief. I closed my eyes and hoped I sounded like myself. “I have to do it.”

  “You can’t—”

  I took a deep breath and pulled away. I couldn’t muster even pretend fierceness, only resigned exhaustion. I owed them this. “I have to. Witch business.”

  Leif didn’t ease his grip. Nothing moved in the silent room. “What do you need?”

  “Salt.” I sighed. Nothing would ever be the same. “To break the circle and banish the rest of the magic.”

  “Okay.” Leif stood, taking me to the edge of the circle. Andre and Joanne wavered like we had bad reception. The spell weakened without my magic to sustain it, and only the Warder kept me upright.

  Jake brought the bag of salt and set it in my hands, supported by Leif’s. The clownish shifter hesitated as he looked at me, and after a long moment, he said, “I’m sorry,” before retreating to the periphery.

  Leif balanced the open bag on my palms, his other arm around my waist to keep me tight against his side. “How far do we throw it?”

  “The whole circle. I’ll tell you when.”

  He squeezed me closer, murmuring, “Soon, kjaereste.”

  “And—” I hesitated, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t be weak in front of Andre and Joanne, after all they’d sacrificed. And poor Rosa, there by herself. “After it’s done, I’ll probably pass out. Just don’t…don’t leave me where—”

  His arm exerted gentle pressure against my ribs. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

  I nodded, blinking rapidly as I clutched the salt. My breath came faster and faster until I teetered on the verge of hyperventilation, hiccupping with guilt as I stared at the broken bodies on the floor. Hoping they would start breathing, sit up, and call it a great prank on Anne Marie.

  Leif’s lips brushed my temple. “Do it, Lil.”

  I closed my eyes until tears burned my cheeks, reaching for power Mother warned me never to use—the deep well of life force. Expending that risked a half-life or death. But I couldn’t use borrowed magic for this. I only needed enough for a simple blanket spell, and I owed them that. I rolled it out so the illusion covered Joanne’s broken body and what remained of Andre, until I could almost believe they rested peacefully.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t…wasn’t there.”

  I should have been. I should have put away my differences with Anne Marie years ago and remained with the coven so I could have protected them.

  My voice went high and I paused. I felt Leif willing me to dismiss the spell, but it was my last chance to speak to my old friends, face-to-face.

  I took a deep breath. “I will find who was responsible, and they will answer for what they did. You will be three times avenged.”

  Squaring my shoulders took monumental effort but I did my best, tilting my head back to call up the War Witch, so at least I could play the part. The Morrigan felt only rage, until my voice crackled with fury instead of fear. “The coven is broken. Three witches are fallen. Rosa Rosemary Rosario Marquez. Joanne Joan Ju-yeon Park. Andre Andrew Alastair MacFadden. These witches are fallen. The coven is broken.”

  The words hung in the still air.

  I shook my head and whispered, “I’m so sorry,” one final time. I rolled the blanket spell over them completely so I wouldn’t see their faces fade away.

  “Okay,” I said, and we flung the salt as I released the rest of the power.

  The reconstruction spell disintegrated with a hiss. The salt flew everywhere, scattering through my circle and bouncing off grim shifters, and everything collapsed until only the blood-soaked living room remained, not a trace of magic left.

  I went limp as my muscles failed, and sank into darkness.

  Waking felt like swimming in the murky lake where we’d vacationed before the Breaking. Light and sound distorted, becoming clearer as I struggled to the surface.

  It was an annoying ring that dragged me out of the dark, and I scrabbled around for the phone on the bedside table and the sheets around me. I nearly knocked over the lamp, blinking and cursing as my muscles betrayed me, and rolled until I half-fell out of the enormous bed.

  It was a long drop to the floor—apparently Soren’s guestrooms had beds on stilts. But the jolt woke me up enough I could squint into the dim room and figure out where the hell the phone hid. I managed to wheeze as I answered it, “Yeah?”

  Noise filled the background until I held the phone away, wincing. Sirens and alarms and shouting, all of it reminiscent of the kind of panic happening when someone breached the walls. The clamor faded and then Eric’s voice, just a thread o
f sound, cut through everything else. “Lily. What happened?”

  I balanced on the edge of the bed, touching my forehead. I didn’t really know, so I wasn’t in much shape to explain to her. “I’m still figuring that out.”

  “Something big is going on,” she said, an unfamiliar urgency in her tone. The lackadaisical federal schlub was replaced with a nervous, maybe panicking, young woman. “We’re getting reports across the city of demons and bad spells and shit going wrong. But we can’t trace it to any witches we’ve got in the files. So that means rogue witches, maybe an Ancient. What do you know about this?”

  “Nothing,” I said, though bile rose in my throat. Demons and rogue witches. Maybe Anne Marie’s Ancient arrived just in time to make everything worse. “I’ve been unconscious for... I don’t know how long.”

  Eric cursed and then shouted at something, returning to her gruff persona. She returned to a whisper, and I imagined her crouching in her unmarked cop car like a criminal hiding from the law. Despite that, she managed to sound gleeful. “Look, we have to meet at the Skein tonight, like you asked. Whatever you need to do, we can do without any other Externals around. The Bureau is gearing up for raids across the city, so no one is bothering to guard an empty park. They’re even going to target—”

  “Lily?”

  I froze, heart in my throat, and looked at the door. A dark silhouette stood in the doorway, and Moriah flipped on the light as she edged into the room. “Are you awake? Who are you talking to?”

  “Got a call,” I said weakly, holding up the phone. I hung up before more of the sirens could blare through the tinny speaker and alert Moriah to some of the other shenanigans I was involved with. I put it aside and slid back under the sheets on the bed, acutely aware that I wore someone else’s T-shirt and no pants.

  I wondered who undressed me.

  She retrieved a cup of water from the attached bathroom. “How do you feel?”

  It took several gulps to clear the fuzz from my throat, and several deep breaths to gather the nerves to ask, “What happened?”