Witch Unchained (Blackwood Supernatural Prison Book 2)

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Witch Unchained (Blackwood Supernatural Prison Book 2) Page 11

by Valia Lind


  "How does it know who's worthy?" This comes from Letty. I tear my gaze away from Mitch to shrug in her direction.

  "I have no idea. I just know that not everyone could put this on and feel connected. The relic has to let you in."

  The room grows quiet, as they all think about that particular truth bomb. Because I kind of said it without actually saying it: Tom is not worthy of the relic. In the same breath, I put myself above all of them. Not exactly sure how I can get around that now.

  It's Eric who saves the day.

  "We should probably clean up and regroup. I'm sure we can all take a break."

  Tom nods, reaching for the necklace and wrapping it back up in the cloth. My hands itch with the need to grab for it, but I curl them into fists instead. The pull toward these relics hasn't diminished. If anything, it's gotten stronger. I feel possessive, and the feeling is intensifying. Eric moves just a fraction closer to me. His steady presence at my back relieves some of the tension.

  Before that can fully sink in, Tom speaks up again.

  "That's a good idea. Letty, I need you to meet with Pete. He has some books for you to look over. And I'm sending you and Mitch to see a colleague of mine," he says, meeting my eye. "He might be able to provide us some direction."

  Without having to look, I can feel Mitch's eyes on me. Glancing at Eric, I find him looking at Tom. I've spent enough time with him to notice the twitch in his jaw.

  "Not to be rude, but I thought Eric was my assigned companion." I speak up.

  Letty chuckles at my words as Tom studies me thoughtfully.

  "I need him with me," he finally replies. I nod, having no other option. I mean, I could throw a tantrum, but when has that ever gotten anyone anywhere? Mitch will just have to deal with me.

  I try not to think about how much the idea of separating from Eric is bothering me.

  It shouldn't.

  I legit ran away from him three days ago. But that's the beauty of emotions, I guess. They can sneak up on you anytime, anywhere. Going to the room, taking a shower, and regrouping sounds like an amazing idea right about now because I am officially all over the place. I don't think I can even explain the confusion I am feeling.

  "I'd like to speak to Eric, alone."

  Letty jumps up from her spot, heading for the door immediately with Mitch on her heels. I hesitate for just a second, meeting Eric's eye, but then I too, head for the exit. I have to figure out my emotions, because if I know anything about shifters, it’s that they have very heightened senses. I'm sure Eric can feel all kinds of confusion coming off me.

  I need to get a grip.

  Chapter 17

  "We need to get going," Mitch announces as the doors close behind me. Letty is already halfway down the walkway, and it's just Mitch and me.

  "When do you want to leave?" I decide to be diplomatic. He clearly has an issue with me, but I don't blame him. I have an issue with me.

  "Maybe an hour? Is that enough time?"

  "Yes."

  It'll have to be. I'm not exactly looking forward to spending time with this shifter. We separate, and I head toward my old room. It seems like it's been years since I've been here, even though it's only been days. I have no trouble finding the room, and I head directly for the shower.

  I give myself exactly two minutes to feel whatever I need to feel as I stand under the water before I shut it all down. Seeing Eric at the cabin, hiking through the forest with him, that came before I was prepared to face him. But now, that's all done. I need to get ahold of my emotions before I do something I can't take back.

  I'll go on this mission with Mitch, and then when I come back, I'll ask Tom for the necklace. If he decides to withhold it from me, I'll take it by force. I'm done playing by someone else's rules. After the dream and the talk with Calista, I realize I have to take power into my own hands, or I will forever be reacting. I want to be the one paving the way.

  Once I'm dressed in jeans, a tank, and my trusty jacket, I head for the lower floor. Mitch is already waiting by the weapon's station. He watches me as I come up.

  "Ready?" he asks. There's no warmth in that word, not like before.

  "You have a problem with me, you better speak up," I say. He glares at me, the big hunk of a guy, but I'm not backing down. I think I see a glimmer of respect in his gaze before it's gone again.

  "You left."

  "And I'm not doing it again. But you have to be okay with the fact that it happened."

  "I'm not."

  "Why? Do you think I betrayed you? Went to some evil dudes and gave up all your secrets?" I'm joking, but the way his eyes narrow, I hit it on the mark. "Come on, Mitch. I know less of your secrets than you know of mine. And if you're not planning on trusting me, maybe you should go tell Tom. Because I'm not spending any time with you, begging for your forgiveness. I did what had to be done."

  We stare at each other for a long tense moment. I have no idea what's going on in his head, but after a minute, he nods. Exhaling sharply, I take that at face value. That's a better response than I expected.

  When a blast comes, we're not prepared. The wave of magic shakes the whole building, crumbling it down on top of us. I have a split second to throw a shield up around us, but even that isn't enough. I fly backward, slamming against debris before toppling forward.

  The whole world seems to spin around me as I drag myself to my hands and knees. My vision blurs. When it finally focuses, there is chaos all around me.

  Parts of the roof have fallen in. One wall is completely gone. People are spilling into the space, blasting survivors with magic as they try to get up. I raise my arm, throwing what magic I have to sweep a guy off his feet. That takes a lot more power than I anticipate, and my head spins once more.

  "Mitch!" I call out to the shifter. I can't see him through the dust and the ruins. He was just right beside me. "Mitch!"

  I try to stand, but my legs feel like jello. Bending down, I gulp some air, trying to figure out my footing.

  "Cordy!"

  Raising my head, I focus on the voice and then Mitch is there. He reaches for me, pulling my head up so he can look at me. My vision is still fuzzy, but his face is full of concern.

  "You're bleeding," he says, placing his palm to the side of my head. I flinch. I push his hand away and replace it with my own. When I pull it away, it's covered in blood.

  "Stay with me, Cordy. We need to get out of here."

  He pulls me to my feet, and I lean heavily on him. My vision clears a little as the magic inside of me solidifies my footing. The screams continue all around us, but I can only see a few feet over the collapsed roof.

  "Where's Eric?" I ask, but Mitch doesn't seem to hear me. "Where's Eric?"

  This time my voice is louder, and Mitch glances down at me.

  "I don't know. I don't know where any of them are."

  I try to push away from him, moving toward the fallen wall, trying to get my magic to come out and search.

  "Cordy, we have to go."

  "I'm not leaving without him."

  "We have to go!"

  "I'm not leaving without Eric!" I almost scream the words in his face. The tension in my chest intensifies as I try to push the panic down. I can't leave without him. I can't.

  "Fine," Mitch rolls his eyes. "I have to shift." I nod, turning my attention back to the mess the magic has created. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I look around frantically, but I can't find him. I can't find any of them. A growl comes from behind me. I glance over my shoulder to find Mitch in his shifter form. The bear is even bigger than I imagined, dark brown and shimmery.

  Mitch stands still, giving the air a thorough sniff. I notice one of the king's soldiers moving our direction. I blast him with fire, sending him across the room. Mitch gives me a look. Even in his shifter form, I can see gratitude there.

  Then, just as quickly as he shifted, he's back.

  "I found him."

  That's all I need to hear. Mitch moves in the direction of the
broken staircase, putting out his arm for me to lean on. The upper floor and the walkway around it have collapsed in most places, but some is still hanging on. The members of the team send blasts of magic raining down on our attackers, but there are too many on the ground floor covered in cement and wood. We stumble over a couple, stopping long enough to pull the broken piece off the two guys. They seem knocked out but in one piece.

  "Mitch, where?" I ask, my strength leaving me fast. I'm holding pressure to my head, willing the blood to stay in one place. At least until we find him.

  "Almost—" Mitch begins before one of the soldiers jump on top of him from the rubble. I yelp as I'm yanked away, feeling someone else's arms around me. The pain and panic intermingle inside of me, and I push it all out with a scream. My attacker flies back, but my magic isn't done there. It takes Mitch's attacker as well and then I'm falling to my knees. Mitch is there to pull me up, tugging me behind him.

  "You are something else," he comments. I give him a weak smile. Just then, I see him. Eric.

  He's lying on top of the rubble, clearly fallen from what used to be the staircase. I try to rush to him, but I'm too weak. I have to rely on Mitch to get me there.

  "Watch my back," I say as I drop down to my knees beside Eric. I run my hands over his face and body, trying to see if anything is broken.

  "We have a problem," Mitch says from over my shoulder.

  "No duh."

  "No, Cordy. I can't shift."

  I glance up and meet Mitch's eyes full of panic. They must have a spell in place, something to keep the shifters powerless. I glance back over at Eric, and my heart lurches into my throat. I need to get him out of here. I need to get them both out.

  There isn't much Mitch can do as he stands there staring at me. His magic is diminished, and I can't imagine what that feels like. Well, I guess I can.

  Eric stirs, opening his eyes for a brief second, but it's enough to fuel me.

  "You have to take him," I say, pushing to my feet. By sheer determination, I'm staying awake and focused. At least my wound has slowed down in bleeding. I push the hair out of my face and scan for options.

  There are people fighting everywhere. Some have escaped through the opening in the wall, and the king's soldiers are in pursuit. That's what we need to do. We need to leave because I can't hold them off when they come for us. And they will. They're moving through the whole building.

  "Let's go," I say, leading Mitch to the collapsed wall. We move as quickly as our bodies allow. We're almost there. I feel myself breathing easier when two soldiers step into our path.

  "Going somewhere?" one of them says, but I don't give them a chance to play the cliché. Pulling on my magic, I thrust fire straight at them. It latches onto their skin as if they're smothered in gasoline. The screams that rip from their body is music to my ears, and I grin. I probably look crazy, but I'm done playing nice. Some of the other soldiers move toward us, and I don't hesitate. Sending a wave of my magic, the fire follows at the tips of it, sweeping across the group. Five of them fall, consumed by the fire.

  "Move," I say to Mitch as I try to catch my breath. That took more effort than I thought it would.

  We rush through the hole in the wall and then we're on the street. I have no idea where we're going, but we move away from the building and the sounds of battle.

  Mitch has to carry Eric most of the way. It's quite the journey considering we have to take every possible alley we can find. I'm going on blind instinct. I know nothing of this city but the little lessons Eric has shared with me. Mitch is almost as out of it as Eric, which puts me in charge of the both of them. I'm still bleeding some and weaker than I want to be. Not exactly comforting for anyone.

  "Guys," I call out when I realize they're slumped against the wall when we stop for a breather. Eric is mostly unconscious again, and Mitch is getting there. They slide down to the ground, and I rush over.

  "Come on. We have to keep moving. You have to tell me where to go."

  "I can barely stand, Cordy," Mitch says, wiping the sweat off his brow. Both of them are covered. I don't think I've ever seen a shifter sweat this much.

  "Tell me what's happening. I don’t—"

  "I still can't shift. Neither can Eric."

  My mind spins, thinking on how this can be possible.

  "The magic they used, it might've had a suppressor on it. I've never heard it work on shifters before. Not this long after the fact." I think out loud, but Mitch nods.

  "That's what it feels like. Suppression. And I can't heal without shifting. Neither can Eric."

  Mitch's words are becoming more clipped as he struggles to breathe and talk at the same time. Eric is completely out now, the wound on his head bleeding through the makeshift bandage I wrapped around it the first time we stopped. Mitch has bruises and cuts all over his body. I'm bleeding from a few myself.

  Standing, I look around, trying to figure out a way out of this. We have no safe house, no direction. I have no idea if Tom or Letty or anyone else in that compound is alive. I'm almost positive we're still being tracked, so I have to find a way to get off the street and put up some kind of protection.

  "Come on," I say, turning back to Mitch and Eric. "We're getting off the street." I run my palm over Eric's face before I slap it gently. He wakes up just barely, but it's enough.

  Mitch struggles to his feet before reaching for Eric. I move to his other side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders while Mitch does the same. Together, we mostly support his weight. He's fighting to stay awake, which makes it slightly easier.

  "Where?"

  "This way." I pull them toward the building across the street. It's ten stories high. Once we're at the door, luck is on our side. A man steps out, his head down as he looks at his phone. I catch the door before it closes and then we're inside.

  We need some kind of an advantage, so I push the elevator's button, and we're in a moment later.

  "I assume you have a plan," Mitch says, leaning against the wall as I push the button for the top floor.

  "I'm working on it."

  When we reach the tenth floor, we step out with Eric mostly out once again. Knowing I have no other choice, I close my eyes and concentrate on my magic. Somehow it stayed intact, even during the suppression spell, and I'm once again thankful it doesn't react like normal magic does. I expand it around me, checking the rooms before I land on one that's empty.

  "Down here," I say, pulling the guys after me. I knock on the door anyway, just to make sure, before I spin the handle and open it. The room opens up, and I see it's mostly empty. Someone must've just moved out, which is perfect. There's a couch in the living room, pressed into a corner and away from the windows. And there’s running water. It's all we got, but it's better than nothing.

  Mitch places Eric on the couch just before he collapses on the floor. Rushing over, I do a quick check. He's breathing normally, so it must be exhaustion. I hope that's all it is. Transferring my gaze to Eric, I see that he's passed out as well.

  As I look between the two shifters, I wonder what in the world I'm supposed to do now.

  Chapter 18

  I leave the boys where they are and head to the kitchen. First, I stop at the door and make sure to lock it. Next, I wave my hand over the doorway, saying a little incantation. My magic doesn't need spells to work, but a few basic incantations are always taught to kids, in case they need to be discrete. Spells such as these pull on the whole of magic, versus individual, so hopefully it'll mask us. At least for a little bit.

  Next, I stop in the bathroom and wash the blood off my face. The cut at my temple has stopped bleeding. When I wipe it, it's mostly closed up. I stare at it for a moment before I realize my magic must've had something to do with it. Maybe it's a self-preservation mode, but I'll take it.

  Then, I head to the kitchen. Opening up the cupboards, I find a bowl and a plate as well as some rags. They look cleaner than I expected. Still, I wash them the best I can. Filling the bowl up with ho
t water, I head back to the guys.

  As I walk around the couch, I almost drop the bowl. Mitch is no longer in his human form but now a huge sleeping bear. Even though I already saw him as his shifter essence, the magnitude of him still takes me by surprise. If he's a big man before he shifts, he's even bigger now. He's spread out, taking up much of the floor space in front of the couch. I have to be very careful not to step on him, but he doesn't leave me much room. Resigned, I end up climbing onto the cushions, straddling Eric, because there is no other choice.

  Balancing the bowl the best I can, I reach for Eric's makeshift bandage and unwrap it. For a moment, I'm afraid the wound will start gushing blood again, but it doesn't. It looks even slightly better than before. That lifts a little of the weight off my chest. He must be healing, even though he hasn't shifted.

  Taking the rag, I begin to clean his wound, leaning over him the best I can. With the wall on two sides of the couch, I can at least place my hand against it to steady myself.

  As I clean the gunk and blood off Eric's face, I realize this is the first time I've seen him sleeping. At least sleeping deep enough that the hard lines he carries around his face are gone. He looks so much younger this way, the worries of the world no longer weighing him down.

  I always think of him as this impenetrable force. Ever since the prison, he's been a solid rock of moodiness and action. But here, he looks barely older than me. It makes me wonder about his life before all this, why he chose this road. Mitch said he got out of a bad situation. What kind of a situation drove Eric here?

  I don't even realize I've stopped cleaning until his eyes flutter open. It takes a moment for that to register and even longer to spring into action. He looks up at me with his eyes barely open and smiles the purest of smiles.

  "Cordy," he mumbles, right before he passes out again.

  I sit on top of him, my legs around his waist, and stare down into his face as if he's the most fascinating of creatures. That smile... it was so carefree, so unlike him, and the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I think I'll carry that image with me until the day I'm no more. And never get tired of it.

 

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