by Sarah Beth
As if she had been tossed into a burning pit, searing hot pain erupted in her bones. It hit her, knocking the breath right out of her. She couldn’t even scream. She pushed herself up onto all fours, looking through the haze of pain at the warlock in front of her. He stood just outside of the circle, any hint of a smile had disappeared from his face. A red hue was starting to overtake her vision. She was having trouble ignoring the pain, even the tips of her fingers hurt.
He knelt down, so he was level with her, “Unfortunately for you, I’m not supposed to kill you yet. But that doesn’t mean you can keep all of that power to yourself.”
She didn’t think the pain could get any worse. She had been wrong. It felt like little knives were cutting through her flesh down to bone, running up the length of her body. Her arms and legs couldn’t hold her up through the searing pain. She collapsed onto the cement floor, the coolness of the cement doing nothing to quell the fire. Blackness started to overtake her mind, trying to pry open every little wall she had ever erected. No. No one was allowed inside her head. Except a certain werewolf.
She screamed, pushing at the sensation in her head with the warmth in her chest. Her heart was beating too fast. Her breaths were coming in short and erratic. Abby pried open her eyes long enough to see blood dripping onto the cement in front of her. She couldn’t take it anymore. She let the darkness take her.
When she woke the first time, every cell in her body felt like it was made of fire. Her throat felt raw, even though she couldn’t remember screaming. All she remembered was pain — so much pain. Like every nerve ending had been electrified and then ripped from her body.
Voices started to filter in through the haze, but Abby couldn’t even muster the energy to open her eyes. She just wanted the voices to shut up so she could fall back asleep. She was exhausted. They were growing louder, arguing. She didn’t have to look to be able to hear them clearly this time. “I’m trying, sir! Nothing I do is making a dent in her defenses. I thought you said she hadn’t been trained! I’ve been working for hours to extract her power and it hasn’t budged!”
Whoever the warlock was talking to didn’t sound pleased. But she was having trouble hearing properly again. All she could make out was yelling, and the voice didn’t sound like someone you wanted to piss off. Tuning out the argument going on, Abby tried to reach into herself to feel the familiar warmth. It took a minute; she was so exhausted. But then she felt it. It felt like reaching through a fog, but it was there. It brought her momentary comfort. Just as suddenly as it had stopped, the pain came back again.
This time she remembered screaming.
Waking up the next time felt worse. Breathing hurt. Opening her eyes hurt. But, at least for the moment, she was alone.
She lay there on her back, still stuck in that godforsaken circle, and tried to breathe. After a few minutes the pain started to subside into a dull ache. She absentmindedly wondered if shifting into a werewolf felt like this. She couldn’t bring herself to sit up. A light caught her attention. She turned her head sideways, looking out at the room beyond the circle. The orb was back. It floated low in the sky, glowing faintly and pulsing in a comforting light. She smiled weakly at it, “You came back.”
“Never left.” It pulsed again.
She couldn’t stop the tears that spilled out the corners of her eyes, “I don’t know what to do.” She sounded broken to her own ears, not at all like herself. That thought alone made her eyes fill further with moisture.
The orb floated there for a moment, pulsing every couple of seconds. “Stay alive. Survive,” it said again.
She tried to take a deep breath, but a sob escaped. “How do I do that?”
The orb didn’t answer, it continued to pulse and float by her head. Abby closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her cheeks, and tried to clear her head. She tried to reach down deep again, to find that anger that she had felt before. She needed that anger now. Her body was too exhausted, her mind clouded from pain. She needed the power only anger could bring to figure a way out of this mess.
No warmth filled her chest for what felt like minutes. Had her power left her? Had the warlock gotten more than he had let on? No. Elazar told her, her power would never abandon her. The warlock had to pay for what he’d done. He had to pay for the lives of those poor girls, and for whoever else he had likely killed. She had to stay alive long enough for the others to find her. She had to stay alive and kill him, before anyone else had to get hurt.
With a deep breath, she slowly sat up and crossed her legs in front of her. Ignoring the throbbing in her head that threatened to overtake her. She reached into herself, forcing herself to believe that it was there, and waited until the warmth filled her body. Relief and love filled her limbs, the ache of torture fading to the background. But she didn’t stop there. She continued to let it build up until it sparked at her fingertips, begging for some form of release. Her eyes opened, a glowing light filled the dim room. It was coming from her. It faded in and out every time she blinked. She needed to find a way to gain the upper hand. She had to help the pack find her. And she knew exactly how to do both of those things.
Her iridescent eyes searched the room until they landed on a table not far from the circle. A dagger sitting just on the edge, blood still discoloring the blade. With more focus than she had ever used in her life, she turned to the orb floating beside her. “Bring it to me.”
The light pulsed for a moment before floating over to the table. Abby’s focus was waning, her energy all but drained. Right before she thought she was done, the dagger flew across the room and skidded into the circle. Her eyes dimmed, and she smiled at the orb as it faded, “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
❖
Wesley
They had arrived at Claire’s hours ago, after limping their way back to the hidden cars. Claire and Ephram were momentarily thrilled to see them, until Claire had seen Wesley’s hopeless expression and realized someone important was missing. They all reconvened in the living room, where Claire immediately got to work to find Abby.
In all of the years that Wesley had known Claire, he had never seen her so flustered — rushing around, dropping things, tossing things off the coffee table and onto the floor. Only when Ephram placed a hand on her shoulder did she pause for a moment, her shoulders tensing at the touch before a long breath left her lungs. Even with his pack hurting, limping their way to the couches to rest, Wesley was grateful that Ephram was there.
Wesley had sat on the too soft couch for as long as he could, then stood and began pacing the length of the living room and kitchen. Claire knelt on the floor by the coffee table, a map of the city laid out. She held a long string in one hand, a crystal tied to the other end. Scrying for Abby was their last hope after coming up with no leads at the warehouse. Wesley was thankful he had found a piece of Abby’s red hair in his truck — it would help Claire find her.
Tori, bless her, lay snoozing on one of the large pillows in the sun room. How she could possibly be asleep baffled Wesley. But the warlock had hit her hard, even a werewolf would need rest to heal from that. On his fifth lap around the house, Alex reached out lightning fast and gripped his arm in a steel grasp. He growled at his alpha, before his brain caught up with his instincts.
Alex’s eyes lifted to meet his, understanding more than anything etched across his face. “Wesley, we’re doing all that we can. Pacing a hole in Claire’s floor isn’t going to help anyone.”
“And it’s making me seasick.” said Warren from his perch on the couch arm, where Kyle lay sleeping and healing. He had his fingers steepled in front of his lips as he watched Claire with eagle sharp eyes.
Wesley rolled his eyes at his brother while also trying to calm the wolf under his skin. Getting angry at his Alpha and father wasn’t going to help Abby. After a deep breath, he gently pulled his arm out of Alex’s grasp. “You can’t get seasick on land, Warren.”
The man shrugged, never taking his eyes off t
he map of the city. “Well, it’s making me want to puke. So unless you want me to do that, please stop.”
A growl made its way up his throat again before he could stop it. He scrubbed his hands down his face. He was trying. He really was trying to stay calm and let Claire find Abby. But it had been hours since they had woken up in the warehouse. And by their best estimate, they had laid unconscious there for at least two. Abby had now been in the hands of that warlock, and whatever vampires he seemed to have with him, for almost six hours. The list of things that could be happening to her was long and none of it good. They were running out of time.
Suddenly, Claire jumped away from the map, dropping the crystal she had held by a string onto the floor. A red spot had appeared on the map, growing outward from the initial origin.
Claire leaned in closer, “What the hell is that?”
Wesley looked from Alex to Warren, then to Tori who sat up slowly from the pillow she had been resting on. All of the wolves in the room knew exactly what it was. And more importantly, who it belonged to. A shiver ran down Wesley’s spine, “It’s blood. Abby’s blood.”
* * *
❖
Abby
Abby tossed the dagger out of the circle, pleased that it skidded underneath one of the tables in the room. She thought about keeping it to defend herself but then almost laughed. A dagger against a warlock and vampires? Yeah, that would really work. She looked down at her palm and pulled tighter on the makeshift bandage she had made from her torn shirt. She wondered if she had cut too deep. The book in the library hadn’t exactly given her details — it had been in Latin, after all. But if the spell worked, she would be forever grateful to whatever force had made that book float down to her. And, hopefully, Elazar wouldn’t be too upset with her for using a forbidden magic.
She’d never cut her hand on purpose like that, and there had been more blood than she was expecting. Bleeding out before anyone could even find her would be just great. That would save the warlock a lot of trouble. Sweat was beading down her neck, her face feeling just as hot as the rest of her body. Her breathing had become labored, and she knew that she had pushed some sort of limit on her power. According to the book, a book so old and worn that she had barely been able to hold it together, blood magic was as ancient as it was dangerous. No one, Faye or witch, should use it unless under the direst of circumstances. It was an ancient magic that she had, in her desperation, attempted to use. She glanced around her surroundings, at the dead girl behind her whose body was starting to smell. If these weren’t dire circumstances, she sure as hell didn’t want to know what was.
A sound came from the hallway, startling her from her thoughts and suddenly making her wish she had kept that dagger. She was exhausted, the spell draining whatever energy she had had left. She was in no shape to fight. The warlock came around the corner, his gate lazy and bored-like.His grin immediately made her stomach turn. He didn’t need fangs to make his teeth look deadly, the striking white of the enamel was enough. That was surely a smile only a mother could love. And somehow she doubted that his mother had been that great of a parent. “Oh, brilliant! You’re awake!”
He came closer to the circle, stopping a few inches from it like he had every time before. The cloak was gone now. The child-like costume had made him look younger. Now, dressed in black slacks and a black button up shirt, she found herself wishing for the cloak. At least he hadn’t been as intimidating with it on. He spread his arms wide and tossed his head back, taking a deep breath, “This power, dear Abigail! This power is amazing! You’ve been hiding it all this time, haven’t you?”
She stared at him, her exhaustion making it pointless to try and banter with him.
He laughed, kneeling down to her level. It may have been comforting to a child, to look evenly into someone’s eyes, but looking into his eyes was the farthest thing from warmth. He waged a finger in her general direction, “I was skeptical, when my benefactor said your magic would be powerful.” His voice broke off in a chuckle, “I should learn to listen to him.” Jumping back to his feet, he paced in front of her a few steps. His face was alight with excitement, hands moving excitedly as he spoke. “Oh it took some time to get your barriers to break. I was still only able to get just a taste, but what a taste it was!”
Unable to do much more than roll her eyes, Abby wished he would shut up. She wasn’t in the mood for some villain-monologue where he explained his whole plan. She would die of boredom before Wesley got to her.
Her irritation must have shown on her face, because the next thing she knew the warlock was kneeling on the floor by her head again, “Oh come on now, you and I were having so much fun before. Don’t stop now.”
Pain erupted behind her eyes. It was so unexpected that she screamed out before she could stop herself. Hands falling to the ground in front of her, arms shaking as they tried to hold her up. And just like that, it stopped. She breathed heavily for a moment before she dared to look up at him, wondering why he had stopped.
His brows were drawn together as he looked at her arm. She had been concealing the wound in her lap when they had entered, so he hadn’t seen it. She had been concerned that the vampires would have smelled it right away. But it appeared that there was so much blood in the room as it was, a few drops of her own had made no difference. “What on earth did you do, dear Abigail? Were you not enjoying our games?”
She looked up into his eyes, wishing harder than she had ever wished, that he would stop looking at her like she was fresh meat. His face suddenly contorted into something pained, his eyes screwing shut as he gasped. He stood up quickly and stumbled away, raising a hand to his face. When he pulled his hand away, blood was covering his palm from where it came out of his nose. He looked from his hand to her, his eyes going crazy, “What did you do, witch?”
She looked at him, then at the vampires by the door who looked either bored or disgusted, and then back at him. What had she done? She couldn’t do magic outside of the circle. Why could she suddenly hurt him like that?
The orb was back, floating over by the table where the dagger was hiding. No one else paid it any attention. No one else could see the orb, but she could.
The dagger — that was what was different. The dagger had her blood on it. Her blood that was now on the outside of the circle. A wicked smile of her own came to her face, as she looked up at the stunned warlock before her. Calling on her power, to whatever energy was left in her exhausted body, her eyes began to glow as she said, “You said you wanted more than a taste, didn’t you? How about a whole meal?”
Wind erupted in the circle from her body, and shot outward, slamming the vampires and warlock to the walls. The Earth will never leave you, Elazar’s words filtered through her exhaustion and pain. She forgot that the elements weren’t just physical things, like the leaves she used at the warehouse. They were inside her, just like they had been inside her father. Not knowing who her parents were could be tough. But she suddenly knew exactly who she was. And that was all that mattered.
The vampires recovered quickly, running towards her. Abby reached out her hand towards them. A tornado came up behind them, scooping them up and as she began to close her fist, the wind started to compress on the two vampires. Who knew air density could be so heavy? She looked back at the warlock, the vampires turning to no more than a pile of body parts behind her.
His fists were shaking at his sides, sparks coming from his fingertips and fire in his eyes. He grinned at her, “You can’t win, little girl. Not while you’re stuck in there.”
She absentmindedly felt the pain return to her bones, but it was as if the wind just brushed it away. Nothing could touch her in that moment. She smiled, the wind rushing around the room so quickly it was shaking the walls, tearing off the one window in the whole room. Her hair whipped around her face, red curls acting like flames finally given space to be free. Fresh air was a welcomed addition. As was the tree branch sitting just outside.
She was exhausted, she
didn’t have much left in her. But she had to stop him, for all of those poor girls and for anyone else he would try to murder in the future. He stood just inches from the circle, fighting the wind as it tore at his shirt. With one last burst of power, she called to the tree outside and watched in awe and satisfaction as the branch burst through the window and pushed the warlock at Abby.
His grin vanished in a moment of shock and then horror, as his body passed right through the barriers of the circle. He skidded to a stop across from her, quickly getting up to all fours to frantically look around for some sort of way out, his eyes wild. She smiled as she fell to her knees, all of her remaining energy gone. “There’s no way out. Trust me.”
His eyes met hers, and he growled, a sound that would have given Wesley a run for his money. He got to his feet and started to stalk closer to her. “Oh but jokes on you, little witch. We can both use magic inside the circle now.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” If it wasn’t for the look of utter shock on the warlock’s face, Abby would have thought she imagined his voice. But then she looked to her right, and there was Wesley, standing with the rest of the pack.
She wanted to ask why he hadn’t shifted, but before she had the chance to, an invisible hand held her throat. It was suddenly very hard to breathe. She was vaguely aware of Wesley yelling her name, pounding on the invisible barrier that separated them. Of the warlock laughing at the wolves as they tried to get into the circle. She struggled for a moment before calm settled over her. The wind blew at her face and the branch creaked against the force of it. As her vision started to turn black, everything made sense.
The fears she held about her feelings for Wesley seemed so minor, so silly. Her fears of never being good enough for anyone, of letting down a father she had never known, were pointless. In that moment, Abby was only aware of one thing — she had so much life left to live. And she sure as hell was going to live it. Just as the blackness descended on her, warmth filled her body. Her power hadn’t deserted her at the last moment. It had been there, like it had always been. It only needed her to realize it.