Invisible (The Curse of Avalon Book 1)

by Sariah Skye

  Nothing else remained in the room, besides a small table, not any bigger than a foot around in diameter that rested on a single column. From what I could tell, everything—the walls, the bedding—was black. Which made everything that much more odd. There wasn’t even a door, or an outline for a door. Meaning, the room must be sealed somehow with magic or otherwise impenetrable. “Great…”

  I noticed the temperature, as I raised my bound hands to wipe a bead of sweat from my temple. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but not totally unbearable. “I’m in Hell,” I said out loud, to no one in particular. At least, I hoped no one.

  Sighing out loud, I reluctantly sat on the bed. I cringed, thinking who or what may have “slept”—or not slept—here before, but at least it was more comfortable than the stone floor.

  I took a few deep breaths, trying to get my bearings, and recounted the last few moments that I could remember in my head.

  I went outside with Trystan. It was beginning to storm overhead; it’d been raining all day. Somehow, I got bold, and actually kissed him. My devilish, other inner-voice interrupted, and I warmed at the thought. It was hot, and altogether too short because we’d heard a noise from nearby. Sort of like the other day, when I kissed Bash outside—a noise interrupted us. That’s odd…maybe they weren’t coincidences?

  Then, Trystan ran for the woods, which was strange. The other day, they’d taken care not to leave me alone. This time, Trystan ran off. He’d insisted I go to the barn, and Nessie was there. I knew he trusted his animal friends—so was that really weird? Maybe.

  Then the phone call from my mom, the video…

  “Summer…” I said softly. I hoped somehow, they were mistaken. Summer had to still be alive! I pleaded silently to no one, but hoped somehow my prayer would be answered. I felt sick to my stomach, thinking about something bad happening to her in the Stargazer.

  I bit my lip, looking around again pointlessly. I had no idea where I was, it resembled some kind of strange…brothel?

  “Oh god…” I felt sick to my stomach. Maybe Summer had gotten mixed up with something wrong in the Underground. Perhaps it was some sort of sick, gross sex thing.

  Which might explain what they—whoever they were—Collectors maybe, wanted with me. Maybe I was to be some sort of supe sacrifice, just like all the other missing ones reported on Bash’s computer.

  I swallowed nervously. I wondered if my missing presence would come up on Bash’s computer. For all they knew I’d gone off with Trystan. And that was not Trystan, I recalled correctly.

  His eyes…they were strange. Colored with black, like a demon. His accent disappeared. Unless he was bewitched somehow, that was not him. And he was…rough. Not in the good way either—not in the way you hoped, when kissing you he’d clutch your hair tightly, press his strong fingers into your back, or hold you a little too close. No, this was cruel rough; like his eyes. Nothing but cruelty in those eyes. I’d not known these men for very long, but I knew one thing. Despite their past transgressions; despite their demon (or part demon) status, there was nothing truly demonic about them. They were complicated, but certainly not cruel.

  I’d bet my life on that.

  I snorted to myself. “I probably will be betting my life in reality.” Talking to myself was crazy, but the sound of my own voice made me realize I was still alive.

  I only hoped the real Trystan was somewhere at home, hopefully taking care of my precious dog.

  My lip trembled. Sierra…she’d be so worried.

  “I have to get out of here.” I had to of been brought in here somehow—which meant there had to be an opening. Somewhere.

  I struggled to my feet again, determined to search for something. Anything that might be a way out. I rubbed my hands over the flat wall, and immediately pulled away abruptly. It was hot. Like molten metal. “Scratch that…” I said, sighing defeated.

  “Just put these on her, and leave.”

  My pulse quickened at the voice on the other side of the room without an opening. A buzzing sound of electricity shrieked in my ears, and an outline faintly appeared nearby, just a couple of paces from the bed. It was only slightly brighter than the room, with more of the red glow.

  Out of instinct, I curled into a ball, hoping my shield would kick in.

  A daunting female voice laughed ominously. “Your magic won’t work here, cambion.”

  Of course it wouldn’t.

  I snorted in response. “Ha, I wasn’t using magic. I was just afraid when you opened that door, it’d be more of the bright light here. I can’t take it,” I retorted sardonically.

  A cloaked female appeared in the center of the room. She had long, black hair underneath the hood, and her face was shadowed. But she carried something in her arms, that she thrust out towards me. “You’re to wear these.”

  I scowled at the bit of fabric. “Says who?”

  Even through the shadows I could see her dark eyes roll. “You’ll soon find out.”

  “I’m not wearing it, I don’t care what it is,” I spat back with defiance.

  She groaned outwardly. “You will wear them, even if I have to tear your clothing off and force them on you.”

  I squinted an eye. “Hmm…might be pleasant from anyone else. Like a man…tearing the clothes off. That’s hot.”

  She groaned again, tossing the fabric on the bed nearby. With two gnarled hands, she pulled off the cloak, exposing her face. I gasped, surprised that the youthful voice belonged to such an aged woman; she appeared to be about a hundred years old except for the eyes. The irises were dark—at least of what I could see in this dim “light”, but her features were so worn and wrinkled, she barely looked like she should be alive. “I was warned of your smart mouth. Last chance. Put them on before I force you in them.”

  I snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

  A wicked spark lit in her eye. “You’ve been warned.” As quick as a gasp, she pulled out a dagger from a hidden place in her cloak, waved a blast of magic at me, effectively forcing me to my feet. With one slice, she cut my t-shirt and leggings down the front, right down to the bra and underwear, without piercing skin. She gripped the remaining fabric, ripping away the rest, tossing them on the floor.

  I gasped, my naked body exposed before this stranger.

  She gave me an apprising once-over. “Bigger than I thought you’d be, but at least you seem healthy,” she said.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you just call me fat?”

  She cackled. “No, but you’re no stranger to a midnight snack.”

  My mouth went agape. It was true—but how dare she? “Fuck you, old hag!”

  Instead of appearing slighted, she grinned; it was unsettling. She was missing teeth, and her lips were crooked. “Not for long. Now put those on. You’ll appreciate them before you’re purified.”

  “Purified?”

  “Is everything an argument with you? Stars above…” she grumbled, reaching for the clothing.

  “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” I trust my wrists out in front of me. “See?”

  “You’d figure it out. But I’ll make it easy on you. This time.” The clothing was little more than a long strip of nearly-sheer fabric. She wrapped it around me, her touch a little too close for comfort. She smelled of mildew, and moldy sage, and I didn’t hide my gag.

  “Do you bathe?”

  “Impudent thing, aren’t you?” She stepped back, and I glanced down at myself. It was sheer fabric, that barely covered my most intimate areas, doubled up around the breasts and the crotch area, but the rest flowed out freely, looping once around my neck, and once more around the waist. Sort of like a slutty toga.

  “When I have to be,” I retorted.

  She sneered. “Good. You’ll be fine, then.”

  “Fine? For what?” She turned, and I knew somehow, she was leaving.

  “Wait!” I said, suddenly panicked to be alone. She wasn’t great company, but…she was still company. Company I could ask question
s to, and maybe figure out what was going on.

  She looked over her shoulder at me. “What?”

  “Are…you the Collectors?” I asked, my tone serious.

  She considered this. “You could call us that.”

  “Did you send those men after me?”

  She bobbed her head on her rickety neck once. “I didn’t personally, but yes. I am grateful for your dispatching of Deano; he was always a prick.”

  I found myself smiling despite the situation. “That wasn’t me, really, but…”

  “Oh, we know all about your supernatural companions.”

  “Are they okay?” I asked hopefully.

  “If they stay away, they will be.”

  I felt panicked. I doubted they had any idea where I was—or even if they noticed I was gone—but once they did, something told me they would struggle to stay away.

  “Where are we? Is this the Underground? Is Summer here?” I fired off.

  “Underground? You mean, are we under that nightclub?” She considered this. “You could say that. Much lower though,” she said with a wink.

  “So this is Hell…” I mumbled. “Where is Summer?”

  “Your friend is not here, rest assured. She was fine for…other things. But she’s not supe, so she wasn’t needed for this. And this isn’t Hell, I promise you. Not yet, anyway…” She flashed me a disconcerting wink, before turning to leave once more.

  “Wait!” Sighing, she begrudgingly paused.

  “What?” She demanded crossly.

  “Am I going to die?” I asked in a small voice.

  She grinned. “Oh no. You’re going to be very much alive. Very much. Yes.” She snapped her fingers once, and the outline appeared. It didn’t open though as it so much absorbed her, and she was gone.

  And I was once again, alone.

  CHAPTER 30

  The minutes turned into hours, and I don’t know just how many hours I’d been in that room. Days. Maybe even weeks. Maybe it was only five minutes—I literally couldn’t tell. Every time I was awake for a long time, everything would grow fuzzy and I would seem to pass out. But it wasn’t like a restful sleep, my dreams were plagued with strange visions and images that felt absolutely real. Visions of witches in cloaks, in circles, performing spells. Images of a forgotten island, shrouded with mist, the air thick with the energy of the most powerful magic. I didn’t know what it was—or where it was—all I knew is somehow, it was familiar.

  Every so often, my mind would wander to thoughts of the boys; moments we’d lived in the short time we’d had together, from the jovial first dinner we’d all shared together, to the very few times I’d gotten to spend alone with each of them. The difference is, my brain allowed me to finish each scene with a romantic interlude, instead of just stolen kisses. Those moments made my mind—and body—feel the most alive. I longed for those dreams the most; they gave me the release I’d wanted to feel with them—whoever I was with—but didn’t allow myself. Why? Because I’d felt so bad being interested in multiple men at the same time. Not just men…cursed men. Incubi.

  Now I wondered if I’d ever get the chance to be with them—any of them. I vowed that if I ever got out of here, and was still myself, I’d make it a point to remedy that. At once, or at the same time—I didn’t care. But denying the pull I felt towards them was ridiculous. If they wanted to fight it out over me—so be it. I respected their brotherhood, but I had needs and wants too. They would tell me when enough was enough, or if I overstepped boundaries; I was confident in that.

  After each mindful interlude, the images of the witches would invade, and while I couldn’t understand what they were saying—they were clearly disgruntled. That’s when I’d fall asleep for an indeterminate amount of time.

  It was also especially strange, because I didn’t eat, drink, or need to use the bathroom. I assumed there was some sort of magic intervention, but, then again, I could have just been in that room for a short time.

  Yeah, I was fucked up. Fucked up, and in trouble.

  I laid on the bed, arms still bound in front of me, staring at the ceiling again when my mind began to wander. Maybe it was lack of food, or magic, but I felt too listless to get up. I could, but I just didn’t want to. What was the point? Especially when my thoughts took me to much better places than where I currently was.

  A barefoot version of myself, in a long white cloak, appeared along a rocky beach. The air was cold and muggy, and steam drifted off the body of water behind me. Lake? Ocean? I had no idea. I had no urge to see it, but rather walk the packed-dirt path through the woods before me.

  It should have hurt, traipsing barefoot, stepping on the random twig, or rock, but instead the further I walked, the more empowered I felt. A flock of white doves flew overhead, cooing and singing as they flew into the trees. I felt compelled to follow them into the canopy of weeping willows, birch, and elm that lay out before me, their foliage a canopy over the same path I was on. The branches arched over me, trembling slightly as I walked past them. The same fog that permeated the beach, also reached in here, but it wasn’t eerie, or even chilly. It was warm, and made me feel empowered.

  Several points of light—like little stars—darted and flew about the trees, pausing only to float around me, lifting my hair, tickling at the bare skin on my arms. I reached out to touch them, and they flew away. It almost sounded like giggling—like they were playing a game.

  Intrigued, I began to follow them, further into the woods, down the path that didn’t hurt. The trees grew sparser the further I walked, and the air denser. I should have felt stifled, or even afraid but I didn’t. I just felt joy, and…power.

  I reached the end of the path, and stood before a clearing. A white sky overhead, with no sun, but still a bright light that touched the open, green meadow.

  Three cloaked figures stood there, backs to me, motionless.

  “Hello?” I managed to croak. My throat felt dry, but my greeting was strangely melodic. I didn’t understand.

  One of the white-cloaked figures turned around. Her face was blurred—at least I assumed it was a her, by the long, wavy strands of golden hair that spilled over her chest, and trailed along the ground.

  Still, I inherently knew she was smiling. She opened her hands to the side, as if in greeting. “Welcome to Avalon.”

  I gasped, and my eyes flew open. I was still in the dark room, completely alone.

  For the first time, I felt rattled and upset. I knew I should have been upset—I was kidnapped! My mother, my friends—the guys—they had no idea where I was. Maybe they thought I was dead, it’d been so long. Or perhaps even though it could have easily been hours for me, time was different for them, and it’d only been a few minutes. There was no way for me to tell. Maybe no one cared.

  Maybe they didn’t care. Maybe Mathias, Trystan, Bash, and Xander had already forgotten me.

  A sob caught in my throat, and I struggled to let it go, but my speech was garbled. The sob stopped on the tip of my tongue, and dissolved.

  I wanted to cry. But I couldn’t. And somehow, that felt even worse.

  “Ava.”

  The outline of the doorway appeared, and I was nearly blinded by the dim light. I sank into the bed, trying to hide my eyes with my bound hands, when the same crone from earlier suddenly appeared.

  She held out a knobby hand. “Come with me.” Was all she said.

  I winced. “Come—with you? What are you going to do?” The sound of my voice surprised me suddenly—almost more than the appearance of the old woman who was now in my room. “What have you done to me?”

  She grinned, a disconcerting sight. “Nothing. It’s only the effect of the magic to test your powers, and keep you hidden from the outside world. Might I add—you have some nasty thoughts about those boys of yours.” She tried to wink, but her face was so worn and aged, it appeared more like a twitch.

  My mouth fell open. “You saw my thoughts?”

  “Oh yes. Now come.”

  I backed
up, shaking my head defiantly. “I will not.”

  She arched a brow. “If you do not, I cannot guarantee the safety of your friend—or your men. If you come without argument, I can promise you no harm will come to them. From us, anyway,” she added, with a hint of a devious cackle. “For now.”

  I glared. Reluctantly, I stood, and held my hands outward. She placed her unusually warm, bony hand on mine, and we were sucked instantaneously into a vortex of blinding light a split second before emerging.

  I blinked, glancing around. There wasn’t much to see; a handful of black folding dividers separated us from the dirty, brown stone walls that now surrounded us. Upon further inspection, it appeared more like a cave with a low ceiling, with two wooden torches, lit with red flame (again with the red flame). The ground was—surprise—dirt and loose stone.

  “Now where the fuck are we?” I demanded.

  “Somewhere else.” Was all she said. She snapped her fingers, and three figures in pure white cloaked figures emerged from behind the dividers, carrying buckets and what looked like blankets.

  In unison, all three figures, who walked with bowed heads, set their respective items on the floor. Each figure—I assumed they were female, from their petite sizes—carried a bucket of water, another carried a metallic cauldron full of glass bottles containing only God knew what, and another had a pile of linen.

  “Bring her to me when you’ve finished.” The crone instructed, and she snapped her fingers again, and disappeared in a cloud of mist and smoke.

  “What the hell?” I stared in amazement at the hooded women. Their faces were completely covered with a white veil, so I couldn’t tell between them. Not that it mattered, when they stripped the gauzy fabric from my body, tossing it into the air. Another flicked her hand at it, and it incinerated in a burst of flame; leaving me completely exposed and naked.