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Dark Witch, Blood Witch

Page 5

by Lili Black


  Without giving him a chance to second guess his choice, I wrap the string around his wrists and say the spell for the binding to have the strength of steel and block his magic.

  “You shouldn’t trust me.” I step back and point toward the wall. “Sit there.”

  Even without the use of his hands or magic, if he manages to escape the barrier, he’s still strong enough to overpower me. Unbidden, memories of us playing in the park flash across my mind, of him tossing me over his shoulder like he was going to throw me in the pond or him carrying me bridal style to keep me warm, snuggled up to him.

  I shake my head to dispel the images. That wasn’t him. That was an act to make me trust him. Everything over the last two years has been a lie.

  My eyes sting, tears threatening to fall, but I push all the pain and loss down and add it to my growing pile of betrayal and loss. I’m doomed to never be happy. I’m not naïve enough to think going through with my revenge will fix anything. But, at least, I’ll know the dark witches can’t hurt anyone else with their desire for power.

  Donovan slides down the back wall, his green eyes dulled in the darkness of the cave. “Evaine, I’m not dating Macey.”

  “No, you’re just engaged to her.” I tamp down the hurt that brings. “She told me all about your happy union.”

  Pain flashes across his face. “You’d trust her over me? How long have you two known each other?”

  “I don’t trust her any more than I trust you,” I spit. “I trust my own eyes. I saw you together at your dad’s party.”

  “When?” His brows knit together. “Wait. You were the intruder?”

  “Intruder?” My fists clench at the reminder I’m not really wanted by him or part of his world. “You invited me. How could I intrude?” Then, realization dawns as the events that led to the party all click together. “Were you planning to present me to her as your bride price?”

  It’s a disgusting practice of dark witches, to sacrifice something they care for to show their loyalty to the coven. Usually, it’s a pet or something. Is that all I was to Donovan?

  “Whoa, back up.” He holds his bound hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, I wanted you there, because you’re my girlfriend, the person I love. I don’t want to be with Macey, and I definitely didn’t invite you that night to sacrifice you.” He leans back, his hands covering his face, hiding behind them. “I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t like that.”

  “She was hanging all over you, and you didn’t push her away.” I turn and pace back and forth in front of the cave entrance. I can’t look at him at the moment. “You were showing off what a great power couple you are to the rest of your horrible family.”

  “Well, you got that part right.” He laughs bitterly. “I do have a horrible family. I’ve told you time and again what my dad was like.”

  Spinning back toward him, I step right up to the edge of the barrier, rage boiling through me. “I’m sorry, I missed the part where you told me your dad was the instigator of mass genocide! That’s not a dad who’s hard on you. That’s a monster! He wiped out my entire family! I listened to my mom’s screams! I saw my little brother’s body ripped open in the middle of the garden. But you have no problem with that, do you? No, you go to his parties and cuddle up to vile people like Macey.”

  This time, I can’t stop the tears, and I storm into the woods, my ears blocked to Donovan’s response.

  Once out of sight of the cave entrance, I lean against a tree, bending at the waist, my hands covering my face.

  How am I supposed to get through this? I can’t even interrogate Donovan without breaking down. The desire to tip my head back and scream at the gods, at nature, at my mom sticks in my throat. But I choke all of it down. I’m not giving Donovan the satisfaction of hearing my grief.

  Running away was bad enough.

  Based on the last time Macey regained consciousness, I still have time to think. By blocking Donovan’s magic, he can’t do much until I return. He’s probably in there trying to revive Macey with True Love’s Kiss. What a joke.

  Happy endings don’t exist for people like us.

  Pacing through the forest around the cave, I consider my options. Macey’s worthless, but I don’t want her ruining things.

  Holding my hands out, I summon the dark grimoire. “Show me how to send Macey away and bar her from Manberry.”

  The book flips through the pages, landing on a spell that requires me to cut off her right index finger.

  “That’s not going to work,” I mutter. “I promised not to hurt her.”

  The pages flip a little more aggressively this time, and I suppress a laugh. Stress may be getting to me if a temperamental book can make me laugh.

  This time, the pages stop on a similar spell, but this one only requires her blood. The spell prohibits the owner of the blood from entering or thinking about another witch’s domain. If they break the domain barrier, it will be instant death. I can live with this one.

  With my plan in place, I tuck the grimoire under my arm and head back to the cave.

  Surprisingly, Donovan hasn’t moved from his spot at the back of the cave, and Macey still lies on the ground next to the barrier.

  As soon as I step back into view, Donovan straightens. “Evaine. Please talk to me about this. I swear, I had no idea what was going on.”

  I ignore his please and grab a dead branch from the ground to poke Macey in the side. “What am I going to do with you, Macey?”

  Donovan scrambles to his feet. “Don’t hurt her. That’s not you. I know you, Evaine—”

  “You don’t know anything about me!” I shout. “And I know nothing about you. Macey, though… Macey knows us both. She’ll be pleased to know her fiancé fought for her.” I go back to prodding her in the side until she finally grunts. “That’s it, wake up, Macey.”

  “Sabine…” Macey moans, her soft voice filling the cave.

  “Who’s Sabine?” Donovan asks as he walks forward to check on Macey. “The girl from that farm my dad’s company owns?”

  I glare at him. “Your dad doesn’t own the Barlow farm.” I prod Macey to stop her from falling back to sleep. “I told you, you know nothing about me. My real name is Sabine. That farm you mentioned is my family home. The one where your father slaughtered my coven in order to steal our magic. He still wants it, but I’m not giving it to him.”

  “That’s your home?” Realization slowly dawns on his face, and he shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me your real name?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. None of it matters now.” I jab Macey again, a little harder this time. “Wake up already. I need your blood.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Donovan straightens and pulls his shoulders back. “Use me to get what you want. My dad needs me to take over someday, so I’m much more valuable to him than she is. He won’t even give her a second thought if you use her for leverage. He’ll want me alive, though.”

  I turn cold eyes on him, and he flinches. Bitter laughter escapes me. “You’d give your life for hers?”

  “No, but I’d give it for yours. Don’t go down this path,” he begs. “Killing someone isn’t something you come back from. The farm was full of Moon Witches. Don’t you want to honor them by taking your revenge out on me? There’s no need to kill an innocent.”

  “Innocent?” I nearly choke on the word and notice Macey flinch slightly. “Macey? The Macey who tried to kill me when I was fifteen? The Macey who stole my family’s artifacts and blamed me for it? The Macey who sold out my family to your dad? The Macey who would do everything in her power to walk out of here with the dark grimoire and turn me into your father? Are we talking about that Macey?” I jab her in the side, and she flinches again. She’s not fooling anyone with her acting. “You can sit up now and stop pretending to sleep.”

  Macey’s eyes pop open, and she sits up to sit with her legs out in front of her and her hands in her lap. “At least, I’ve never killed anyone.”
/>   “Not from lack of trying.” I hold my hand up, palm facing the barrier so the scar she left shows. “Remember this?”

  A vicious little smile curls her lips before her eyes shift to meet mine. “How exactly did you take out poor Trevor? You were a baby back then, scared of your own shadow.”

  Donovan stares between us in bewilderment before he settles on me. “You killed Trevor?”

  Ignoring him, I squat in front of Macey and pull the scissors from their case at my belt. “You know exactly how I did it. It was with these scissors that I carry with me everywhere.” I move the scissors back and forth so they flash in the light, and her eyes follow them as if hypnotized by a weapon used to take a life. “Do you want to join him? I was truthful when I said I wouldn’t hurt you before, but I can always change my mind.”

  Her eyes jump to mine, and a shiver travels down her body. “You really have changed.”

  I stand and move a few steps away from Macey, not liking how she looks proud that I’m willing to kill her. But, at least, she’s taking me seriously now.

  “When did all this happen?” Donovan puts some distance between him and Macey and sits, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I’m so confused.”

  “Of course, you are.” Macey turns to stare daggers at him. “You’re lucky you’re daddy’s little boy. If you were anyone else, he would have stripped your power just like he did your mother’s.”

  Donovan shoots to his feet and yanks Macey up. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Everyone but you knows about it.” She laughs and kisses his cheek. “Poor, little boy who lost his mom when he was little. Your dad just needed an heir, so he used her, then drained her dry. You’re such a disappointment, though. He’s been thinking of producing another heir to replace you.” She rubs her stomach. “I think I’d make a good mother, don’t you?”

  “You disgust me!” He spits and lets her go, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles turn white.

  “I mean, I can produce an heir through him or through you, but either way, you won’t be needed, anymore.” Macey smirks at him. “You can join your mother and the rest of her coven in Summerland. That was your dad’s first taste at power, you know. Her coven was so weak, though. Small and all but powerless. They liked to heal people, but they couldn’t save themselves.” An almost worshipful expression crosses her face. “He plans to rid the world of weak witches like your mom’s or Sabine’s family.”

  “I won’t let that happen.” I stalk over to her, scissors out. “You have two options, Macey. You can freely offer your blood and be sent away, or I can cut your finger off and send you away. Either way, you’re leaving.”

  Macey smirks. “Donovan won’t let you hurt me. He’s too pure.”

  “You’re underestimating the power of anger,” I warn. “I’m feeling generous, though. How about I give Donovan a knife, and we see what he does?”

  Macey side-eyes Donovan, who glares at her with rage-filled eyes. While I may have promised not to hurt her, Donovan’s clear of that promise.

  “What does the first option do?” she asks, her eyes bouncing between us.

  “I claim Manberry as the home of the Barlow Witches. You will never be able to set foot here again,” I intone, answering her question and invoking my will at the same time.

  “That’s it?” She holds out her hand for me, but I turn the scissors point side up and pass it through the barrier, demanding she willingly make the sacrifice.

  She rolls her eyes and presses her finger against the sharp tip, drawing blood. With how quickly she gave in, I’m sure she thinks the spell will be broken once Gregory kills me, but I have no plans to let that happen. She probably also assumes she’ll be able to contact Donovan’s dad to let him know what’s going on, but she entered the spell without full knowledge.

  She won’t be able to contact anyone here as long as I’m alive.

  With her blood now on the end of the scissors, I cut my finger to seal the spell and complete the invocation.

  Then, I put Macey back to sleep, because there’s no reason to risk her stabbing me in the back.

  With her out of the way, I turn to Donovan, the scissors swinging from my finger. “Now, what do I do with you?”

  7

  Donovan glances back at the cave as I pull him by a tether into the woods. “Are you really going to just leave her there? There are wild animals in these woods.”

  “I cut her bindings and put a ward in front of the cave to discourage visitors.” I stare straight ahead, my senses on high alert for a sign Donovan plans to jump me.

  I hold the dark grimoire under my arm and grip his lead with the other, leaving me at a disadvantage to defend myself. I guess this is the first test in his sincerity to go with me willingly. Not like I can drag him the way I did with Macey. He’s way bigger than me and weighs a lot more than she does.

  “She’ll wake up soon enough with an overwhelming need to leave town,” I add.

  “Is that really all the spell did?” Uncertainty fills his voice, but I refuse to look back again.

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned for your own safety than for hers?” I snap.

  “I don’t want the rule of three turning back on you,” he says softly, and my hand twitches around the string I hold.

  I probably should have blindfolded him before setting out, but I’m not worried about him escaping and leading others back to the campsite. If that happens, I’ll just move locations. I can live invisibly in these woods for years before anyone found me. I know enough about foraging and hunting, and I have the gear to be self-sustaining. The trips into town were more of a luxury and an excuse to meet up with Donovan. And for Hattie’s comfort. I didn’t want her getting cold out here. But if I need to, I can leave everything behind.

  “Where are we going?” Donovan asks when I don’t respond after a while.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” I step over a fallen tree and wait long enough for Donovan to pick his way over without the benefit of using his hands before picking up the pace once more.

  As we near the camp, my steps slow, and Donovan gives a sigh of relief.

  I didn’t do it for his comfort, though. No, I’m just giving myself time to figure out where to keep him. The cave with my supplies seems the most logical place to set up another barrier spell, but baker’s racks line the outer walls, and I don’t want him in the gold tunnel.

  The camper is out, too. It holds too many things that can be turned into weapons.

  And I don’t want to just leave him in a circle in the middle of the clearing. While we’ve had clear days, I don’t want to risk him getting sick.

  A soft meow pulls me from my thoughts, and I spot Maggie running toward us through the trees.

  We reached the campsite before I figured out what to do with Donovan.

  “Maggie, is that you?” Donovan crouches as the cat runs right past me and butts her head against his outstretched hands. He manages to lift her and cuddle her against his chest. “What are you doing way out here? Were you waiting in the truck?”

  I turn away from the wholesome scene. Of course, Maggie likes him. She has bad taste, just like I do.

  The trees thin, and I stride into the clearing, pulling Donovan along.

  A tug on the line pulls me up short, the first of Donovan’s resistance, and I spin back around, dropping the grimoire in favor of pulling the scissors from my belt.

  But Donovan doesn’t leap at me. Instead, he stares around the campsite, his eyes wide as Maggie nuzzles at his cheek. “What...?”

  “Welcome to my home.” I bend and snatch the book off the ground. “You can have a seat by the fire.”

  I pull on the string to get him moving, and he shuffles forward, his head moving left and right as he takes in where I’ve been living for the last two years.

  His lips move, but it takes him a couple of tries to get the words out. “How long have you been here?”

  “How
long ago did your dad murder my family?” I counter before I attach the string to a camping stake and shove it into the dirt.

  It won’t be hard for him to escape from that, but I’m not sure what else to do right now.

  “I don’t...” He shakes his head and carefully bends to set Maggie down. “Evaine— Sabine...” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “What do I call you now?”

  “Evaine’s my middle name.” I walk to the banked coals and stir them back to life before throwing on some kindling to start dinner.

  He joins me near the fire, but not so close that he’s an immediate threat. “I don’t know when exactly your family died. I didn’t start hearing rumors that you guys cleared out—” He cuts off at my sharp glare, and his voice softens. “No one knew for a while that the farm was empty. The first time I visited there was a few days ago.”

  My throat tightens at the memory. “I was there. I had a front-row seat to listen to how your dad was going to convert my legacy into a resort.”

  He flinches and makes a move to sit.

  “Not there,” I say sharply, and he freezes. “That’s Hattie’s seat. You can sit over there.” I point to a log that we rarely used.

  “Who’s Hattie?” he asks gently as he walks over to the new log and sits.

  “She was the last of my coven.” I pull the cauldron off its hook, set it on the ground, walk over to the cave, and grab a basket of roots and a jug of water. “One of your dad’s men shot her in the leg with a cursed bullet. They shot everyone to wound but not kill, so they had time to harvest their hearts.”

  He pales and drops his head into his bound hands. “I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible. And you never said anything.”

  “I didn’t want my time with you and what happened to be mixed up.” I dump our dinner ingredients into the cauldron and fill it with water. “You were my safe place where I could forget about things like magic.” A bitter laugh chokes me. “Gods, I was stupid.”

  “You were my safe place, too,” he admits, and if he’s lying, I can’t tell. Everything’s jumbled up where Donovan’s concerned. “If we’d been more open with each other, we wouldn’t be here now.”

 

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