Alexi shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Luck.” God, she was hungry. The sensation gnawed at her with a ferocity, making her vision go dim for a moment.
“Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
Alexi almost laughed. Such courtesy from the man who kidnapped her. As though he had sensed her thoughts, a look of regret passed over Victor’s face.
He felt guilty. Well, she could use that. “Why are you doing this?” Alexi asked. “Working for a witch? You don’t seem the type.”
That got his attention. Victor glanced at Savanna, whose eyes were closed, head resting against the van.
“She hasn’t told you?” He seemed surprised. And damn, his voice was attractive. Nice face, too. Get a grip, Alexi snapped at herself. This isn’t exactly the time.
“Not her life’s story, no. Just that she needed my help. That’s enough, between, you know—decent people.” She shaped the words like a knife and stabbed at the softness she saw in him, just behind his eyes.
Victor looked away.
It’s the witch, Savanna broke in. We can . . . control people. Sometimes it’s pretty bad.
Can you control him now? Alexi asked, a spark of hope lighting.
No. Not unless the other witch lets go of him first.
Not much chance of that, by Savanna’s tone.
How did he grab you? Didn’t you run?
I was going to—but you were in danger, and I thought . . . when you told me to calm down, I did. It’s like you just wiped all the fear out of my brain, and I started thinking that maybe I could help you, and . . . I had a vision. The wolves killed you, and then they came back and took me. I knew, in that moment, if we didn’t stay together we would die alone.
So if we stay together, we’ll live?
I don’t know.
It’s okay. And I’m sorry about the . . . mind-wipe thing. I didn’t even know I could do that.
What had she done? Something had jumped between them in that moment, the way it had with the motel clerk.
I needed it. I was freaking out a little, Savanna replied. I kind of am right now, too. Whatever you did, it’s wearing off.
Alexi wasn’t sure she was okay with the idea of being able to influence people that way. Not unless it got her out of this van, and from what Savanna said, that was unlikely. What other abilities did she have? What else was she doing without even realizing it? So many questions and no answers. If they got out of this, she needed to find that club, find a way in, and force some answers.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re awfully pale.” Victor’s lovely voice interrupted her thoughts.
Alexi arched an eyebrow at him. “What, you don’t like a girl with light skin?”
“It’s not that. I just . . . I’ve never seen someone with skin as pale as yours. No one alive, anyway.”
Alexi shrugged. “I spend a lot of time indoors.”
I keep trying to come up with a plan, but I’ve got nothing, Alexi admitted to Savanna silently. I’m so hungry, I don’t think I could fight my way out of a paper bag.
I’m so sorry I got you into this. The mental words ended with a silent sob. Alexi, there are things about me you don’t know. Things I haven’t told you—
The van’s brakes squealed. Alexi flew into the metal divider, and Savanna crashed into her. Victor banged on the front partition. The road went from smooth pavement to rugged dirt, and Alexi knew they were close. The truck bounced around giant potholes. Victor stood with one hand on the roof to not slam his head with every bump. The van slid to a violent halt. The force sent Alexi tumbling toward the wall. Victor intercepted her as she crashed into him, hooking her arms over his head.
Alexi couldn’t breathe. Something electric snapped between them. Their eyes found each other, and for a moment, she felt lost in his gaze. The door slid aside, breaking the spell. Victor pulled her arms from his neck and gently picked her up and placed her on the ground outside. He shook his head as if to clear it. Ringo’s evil mug appeared. Strong hands seized her collar and shoved her forward.
***
Two Years Before
She was on the last circle of protection. Twelve circles surrounded her in perfect harmony, each leading to the next. Each was adorned with symbols for the levels of protection they provided. Her arms ached with the exertion. All it would take was one mistake, and they wouldn’t let her perform the binding ritual. Thirteen witches watched in anticipation, none much older than her mom. None looked their age. It was this ritual that would give Savanna eternal youth, vitality, and power.
The chalk she used to make the symbols was behind her now. Sweat dripped from her brow and stung her eyes. Only a few more seconds and her destiny would be fulfilled.
The last piece of chalk took its place. She breathed out. Her skin tingled, and her hair stood on end. The wards were in place, ready to be activated.
“Once the ritual has begun, you cannot undo it. Failure to activate them will result in gruesome death,” her mom’s voice cautioned. Savanna breathed deep. This was the hard part. Magic required sacrifice. Her blood would power the wards, then the demon would come. Once trapped, she could anchor it to her. The chaos in its veins would fuel her magic and provide her near immortality. As long as they had their anchored demons, their power stood unmatched.
Savanna’s raised her enchanted dagger, prepared to cut herself deep to power the wards. If all went well, this would be the only time she would shed her own blood for magic.
“Stop,” her mother commanded. Savanna’s brow tightened.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The hum of power filled her; it called to her.
“You don’t have enough blood to power the wards and bind the demon.” Her mother raised her hand.
A loud squeal of metal long dormant came from above her. A gurney lowered by ropes made its way haltingly toward her. A tingle of worry sprang to life in her spine. It spread to her stomach and knotted her insides.
Her father lay on the gurney.
Blood seeped from wounds on his arms and legs. He was awake. His eyes gazed at her.
Every moment with her father, every stolen walk or lunch, every second she spent with him in her whole life came back to her.
“What . . . what is this?” She sounded like a scared little girl, not like a confident witch.
“What must be. He’s dying, Savanna. I extended his life to father my child and one day act as the sacrifice needed to power your ascension. It’s the way of all coven witches. One day you will do the same.”
“I . . . can’t. How could you ask me to do this to someone I love? My own father!”
His eyes never left hers. His silent pleas told her to do it, to not hesitate.
“Love? We don’t love men. We use them, as they use us. Our love is reserved for our coven members, for whom we would lay down our lives.”
Savanna put her hand on his face. He closed his eyes. Sickeningly, she realized the paint on her body was his blood.
“Papa,” she whispered. His mouth was gagged and his hands tied to the gurney, but he beamed at her. He must have known, my whole life, this day would come. He was always so attentive, so caring, as though each moment was our last together. I just thought I had the best dad in the world. If this is the price for immortality, I can’t pay it.
“I can’t!” she screamed. Her instinct was to run, but if her foot crossed the barrier before the ritual was complete, both she and her father would die.
“Magic comes with a price. We’ve all paid for it with our father’s blood,” her mother said. “You think you’re the first one to make this choice? Do it or he dies anyway—and you also. Do you think he wants that?”
The look in his eyes held the answer. Live, they said. Let my death be worth something. He was already dead. The bonding of his blood to her allowed her to make the wards ready. She had drained his life the second they were painted on her. Spilling it now would charge them fully.
“Do it!” shri
eked her mother, but Savanna paid no attention to her. She had eyes for only her father. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled behind the gag. Tears rolled down his face. He gave her a little nod.
Savanna sobbed, clasping the dagger tightly in both hands.
I love you, Papa.
She plunged the dagger into his heart.
EIGHT
Now
Alexi could barely stand. Demarco dragged her to the pole in the center of the camp. Her brown boots dug furrows in the soft dirt until he picked her up and carried her the last few feet. The pole stood eight feet tall. Concentric circles were drawn in the dirt, five inches apart, spread out from its center. The first one was wide enough for two people to stand on. Through Alexi’s dimmed vision, she made out a picnic table, a blue cooler, a small campfire, and a large backpack.
Demarco pushed his body up against her as he tied her hands behind the pole. He reeked of cheap beer and tobacco.
“Take a bath,” she muttered.
He slapped her across the face. She blinked away the pain, her head swimming. Then she felt familiar, soft hands on hers.
Savanna.
I’m here. I’m sorry, Alexi. I thought we could escape, but the longer it goes on, the more I fear the inevitable.
We’re not going to die. Just be ready.
Ready for what? We’re tied to a pole, and—Savanna choked. A small whimper escaped her mouth. Oh, god—Alexi, she’s coming!
Who? Who’s coming?
My mother. Savanna’s hand squeezed her fingers tight.
“My dear, treacherous daughter,” a woman’s voice floated on the wind behind her, the speaker just out of view.
“It’ll be okay, Savanna,” Alexi whispered. The hunger made it hard for her to focus.
“I see you brought her playmate,” came the stranger’s voice again, nearer this time. “Well done, Victor. Good dog.”
Alexi squinted to see Victor. The big man’s nostrils flared at the woman’s insult, the muscles in his jaw bunching as he clenched his jaw. Gravel crunched, and the woman stepped into view. Her voice was mature, but the woman looked scarcely older than Savanna—not a day over twenty. She was much paler than Savanna, but something in her face hinted at shared blood. And the expression—where Savanna’s features held an innocence and softness, this woman was cold and cruel.
“Illyana, I presume,” Alexi managed to spit out. She worked her jaw several times. Her muscles felt stiff from the hunger that plagued her. Illyana ignored her to stand by her daughter. Alexi could not see what she was doing, but she could hear them.
Victor glanced at his compatriots. They were sitting at the table, drinking beer and ignoring the entire thing. He took a step closer. Alexi opened her mouth to say something—Victor shook his head no.
“You disappoint me. You could have been the most powerful witch in generations!”
“At what cost, Mother?” Alexi could hear the tremble in Savanna’s voice.
Hang in there. We’ll beat this together.
“It’s a wonder you managed to sacrifice your father—”
“Mother, no!” Savanna cried.
“Oh, does your little friend not know the story? Well, no worry. She’ll see it firsthand soon enough.”
Alexi felt Savanna give up. The girl’s whole body slumped as she dissolved into sobs. “I’m sorry, Alexi. I wanted to tell you. I did. I just couldn’t.”
Alexi squeezed her hand. “Savanna,” she whispered, “whatever you did before you met me, I don’t care. You saved me, and that’s all I care about.”
The girl sniffed back her tears.
Illyana came around to look at Alexi. Smooth hands grasped her jaw and held her head up. Alexi blinked several times to focus. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper across her eyes. Illyana slid a dagger across her palm. Blood seeped out of the wound to form a circle in the air. Alexi’s nose tickled at the scent of copper and iron. The liquid hovered for a moment, then splashed in the dirt.
“Hmm. Ringo seems to think you’re a vampire . . . but my magic says otherwise. What are you then?”
Alexi tried to think of a response, but her mind couldn’t grasp what Illyana said. Fingers dug into Alexi’s chin and jerked her head toward her captor.
“Mother, please let her go,” Savanna pleaded from behind her.
“You have had a profound effect on my daughter, I see,” Illyana purred. “Are you sure you’re ‘just a friend’?”
Alexi summoned enough strength to pull her head away.
“You chose your company poorly.” She turned to Victor and snapped her fingers. “Where’s my daughter’s dagger?”
He held it out to her. In one swift motion, she snatched it up and held it in the moonlight. Illyana turned away, and Alexi looked to Victor for help. She knew from their conversation in the van that his conscience troubled him.
Look at me, she willed him. How could he stand by and watch this happen?
“Victor, prepare my daughter’s friend for the ritual. Do it like I showed you.” She handed him the dagger.
He did not meet her eyes as he sliced the clothes from her body, leaving her standing in her underwear. Then he rested the tip of the dagger against her stomach and hesitated for a long moment.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Alexi gasped as he plunged the blade into her stomach, sending a spike of pain through her. She struggled for breath as he dipped his fingers in her blood and drew symbols on her skin. When he was done, he pulled the dagger out, and his eyes widened as the wound knit itself together in front of his eyes. He looked up at her sharply.
“How—?”
“Shh.” She shook her head. “Don’t say anything. Please.”
He gave her a short nod and then retreated to the edge of the circles drawn in the dirt, where he handed the dagger back to Illyana.
“Savanna,” Alexi whispered, “tell me what’s happening.”
Savanna’s voice was shaky and almost too quiet to be heard. “She’s going to sacrifice us to summon a demon.”
Alexi’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“Because I killed her last one.”
***
Two Years Before
Warm blood sprayed her hands as the dagger’s tip pierced her father’s heart. He screamed against his gag as his own beating heart shredded itself. Savanna dropped to her knees, unable to watch the man who had raised her die. The dirt floor offered little solace. With the last beat of his heart, power flowed through her.
It was more raw energy than she had ever channeled before. The energy flooded her being, and she felt like she would die. A hundred times her mom drilled into her the need to use such energy quickly, lest it damage the body and mind. Never once had she thought that the source of that power would be her own father’s life. She touched the inner circle, and the chalk lit up with a brilliant arcane fire that spread until every circle blazed with energy.
She slumped on her heels. He was gone. The last bit of her father’s essence slipped through her to power the shields that would stop the demon from killing her and everyone in the room. She heard her mom chuckle.
Savanna opened her eyes to glare through her tearstained vision. “How could you, Mother?” she cried.
“It was for your own good. Now you know what each of us went through. You’re part of a sisterhood that dates back thousands of years, one that will never die.”
The witches in the room, along with Savanna’s mom, shimmered. The disturbance around them faded to reveal their true selves. Savanna’s breath caught in her throat. They were all her age. Every one of them no older than twenty. Her mother, too. The years rolled back from her, and she looked not much older than Savanna. A collar of golden light circled her neck. A shimmering chain flowed up to link her to an immense creature standing behind her. Savanna jumped when her eyes made contact. The beast was massive, with horns, fangs, and bat wings. Every witch in the coven had one, but her mother’s was largest of all.
“Summon your demon, complete the binding ritual, and join us in immortality!”
Savanna looked to the dagger in her hand. A wild thought flashed into her head—she could escape this. She could escape her mother and the unbearable reality of what she had just done. She couldn’t look up at her father’s body, but everything she loved about him flooded over her—his kind smile, his arms around her, the smell of his aftershave, the sound of his laugh. All gone forever. She pressed the tip of her dagger against her chest and took a deep breath.
“No!” Her mother rose to standing. “Stop! I haven’t reared you for sixteen years to watch you throw away your future! You cannot waste this kind of power.”
Savanna’s eyes snapped open, staring up at her mother with a sudden fury. “You’re right, Mother. I shouldn’t waste this gift.” The venom in her voice surprised her. Her mother thought she was weak and soft. And maybe she was. But this—she could not let this stand.
Savanna began her chant. Her blade cut a line across her abdomen. Her mother nodded in approval. Savanna was expected to summon a lesser demon, something she could control and enslave. As she grew more powerful, she would summon greater demons. Only the most powerful dared summon the demon lords. Beings ancient and terrible, they ruled the lower planes of the abyss. Most witches would never dare reach for such power. The penalty for failure was grave.
Savanna wasn’t like most witches.
Concern appeared on her mother’s face as Savanna cut a second line, still chanting. When the moment came when she would name her demon, she paused. The blade carved a third line, and her chant continued. Blood dripped down her shorts onto her legs. Each new line added to the flow.
“What is she doing?” someone shouted. She was beyond hearing now, lost in the power of the chant, letting it build with each new cut, each sentence of power.
Her hair burned with eldritch energy. Brown strands turned black as a starless night. Her eyes burned with agony. Still, it wasn’t enough. A quarter of her blood pooled on the ground. The energy Savanna took from it sustained her. The second she channeled it into her summons she would likely die.
With the Dawn (Faith of the Fallen) Page 6