SACRIFICIUM (THE UNDERGROUND Book 1)

by Allie Doherty

  “You’ve killed them,” the old man says, bringing a hand to his mouth in shock; as though murder wasn’t his intention only seconds ago.

  I don’t say anything. I’m too high from the power. I turn to look at the academy superior and lift my hand in his direction.

  “No, I beg of you, Theodora. After everything we’ve been through together…” He drops to his knees with fear and pleading in his eyes. “Theo, Please! I –”

  With a flick of my wrist, his neck snaps and he too falls to the ground. Ignoring, the bitter sting in my heart, I turn to face the council.

  “Miss Blackth—” The old man starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. With a crack, he falls onto the bench in front of him.

  One by one, flick by flick, each of them falls until only the High Priestess is left. She stands and lifts her arms, prepared for battle. She closes her hand into a fist and twists it with such a force, I think it might break… but nothing happens.

  She tries again, and again, and one more time after that; but still, I remain standing.

  I’m as shocked as she is.

  “This is forgivable, Theo. They are nothing… mere council members,” she stammers, her eyes wide with panic. “But if you do this, if you kill a High Priestess, you will become a pariah… on the run from your own people.”

  “My own people who want to kill me?” I scoff. “Why would I want to stay here with those people?”

  “Because I could take you under my wing! I could train you and you could be a High Priestess yourself, someday. With your power and mine combined, we’d be unstoppable!”

  “Sorry, High Priestess,” I say, with a tired smirk. “I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

  I lift my hand and watch as she suspends in mid-air like the guards. The fear on her face is palpable, and I’m struck with a startling sense of indecisiveness. She didn’t care when she thought she was going to kill me in a painful and merciless ritual, but the voice in my head screams at me not to do this – to take her up on her offer and live in peace with the witches forever – and I would give anything to be able to do that.

  But I can’t stay here anymore. If I did, I would become a prisoner of my own fear, always questioning when the next attempt on my life would be. Her eyes are pleading with me, just as I was pleading with her only moments ago. The only difference is that I feel bad about what I’m going to do to her, but I have no choice…

  After all, it’s my life or hers.

  “High Priestess Zamlia, I sentence you to death for the sake of my survival and for the sake of young witches everywhere…”

  She opens her mouth like she’s screaming, but her throat is too constricted to manage anything more than a squeak.

  I gnaw on my lip and combine my hands like a prayer. Then, quick as a flash, I rip them apart and watch as her body obliterates in front of me. Bits of flesh and bone hit my dress, staining the white satin, and what’s left falls to the ground; splattering with the most wet, disgusting sound I’ve ever heard.

  I take a look around, expecting to feel some semblance of remorse, but I don’t. Instead, I feel empty. My whole childhood was spent at the academy, and in one night, the council and my superior – the man who’d promised to look after me no matter what – had ripped my home away from me.

  I walk out of the room and run back to my dorm.

  Unleashing my thick, deep brown hair from its up-do, I let it fall wildly around my face. Next, I strip the bloodied dress from me and change into something far more comfortable. Who knows how far I’ll have to go to find refuge. I could be on a bus for hours, and nobody wants to ride a bus in skin-tight jeans or a dress.

  Once I remove the makeup from my face, I grab a duffel bag from under my bed – refusing my body’s cry for rest – and begin filling it with the essentials: Money from under my pillow, clothes and a few of my more personal possessions; my phone, the Raven-Hill pendant that belonged to Anna, and the picture of my mom.

  Without looking back, I make my way out of the academy I had called home for fifteen years and into the real world with the normal people. I was always taught that blending with mortals was below me and put me at risk of being hunted, but right now, the streets feel far safer than the walls housing the dead bodies of the people who had tried to kill me.

  Putting my hood up, I take off from the front door in a sprint and I don’t stop until I lose sight of the academy completely. I keep going until I reach a bus station and climb aboard the nearest tin can with wheels I can find. I don’t care where it’s going…

  Taking a seat in the middle, I rest my head against the window as the engine roars to life and the wheels begin to turn. Maybe I should stay on high alert, but I doubt I’m at any danger of being killed on public transport filled with mortals, and in my mind, I know that this could be the last time in a long time that I have the chance to sleep.

  Snuggling up, I wrap my arms around my knees and close my eyes…

  Tomorrow, the bodies will be found, an investigation will launch and the chase will be on...

  And I’m the target.

  CHAPTER TWO

  My eyes rip open as the bus hits a bump. I blink out the blurriness of the world and remember where I am. It’s light outside and the sun looks to be midday at least.

  I’ve been asleep for hours, but it’s as though I haven’t slept at all. My body aches so badly

  Movement stirs in the seat beside me and I jump back, pushing myself against the cold, square window. There is a middle-aged man in the seat next to me with a long, ratty beard. He’s smiling and his dark eyes are watching me intently.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, attempting to get my breathing under control.

  His smile widens and his off-coloured, beer-stained teeth glare at me as he moves in closer. His mouth opens and the smell of cigarettes and whiskey invade my senses as his unkempt shoulder-length hair brushes my shoulder. I shiver, trying to push even further away from him.

  “You know, honey, if you ain’t got anywhere to stay when you get to Phoenix…” He lays his hand on my thigh. “I got a real comfy bed at my place.”

  “I’m seventeen,” I manage to choke out; praying that the fact I’m a minor is going to deter him.

  It doesn’t.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t…” He licks his bottom lip and his hand trails upward on my skin. I force his hand away and jump to my feet.

  “Excuse me,” I say, politely, trying to nudge past his legs.

  He blocks my path and his legs knock against mine as he tries to make me fall into his lap. It’s hard to keep my balance, but I manage it because the alternative makes me want to vomit.

  Finally, I break through into the middle section of the bus and search for an empty seat. I spot one at the back and head for it with relief swelling in my chest.

  My legs are still exhausted, but I force them to move. As I walk, I see an arm rise behind me and the sound of his hand colliding with my ass echoes across the bus. People look on in shock, but no one does anything about it. Gazes are averted and disapproval’s are whispered, but there’s no white knight coming to my rescue.

  With a growl, I push forward deciding it’s not worth it, and continue my journey. The bus hits a pothole and shakes. I stop for a moment so I don’t fall, and again, I see his arm rise.

  I say nothing. Do nothing. Instead, I close my eyes and let the anger take over me. The power comes lightly at first and then increases. I shouldn’t be doing this – I’ve already drained myself twice today – but I can’t just let him get away with it.

  I see it happen in slow motion: The smile on his face widens as he pulls his arm back like the string of a slingshot and lets it go, ready to touch me again. The passengers keep their eyes to the ground and their morals lower.

  I give him a chance to stop himself, I give everybody else the chance to say something, but nobody is stepping up to be my saviour – nobody, except me! I let out a breath, envisioning my command in my minds-eye.
r />   His hand stops suddenly and his face contorts into a picture of confusion and pain.

  “What’s going on?” Opening and closing his palm, he starts to scream. “There’s something wrong with my arm.”

  I smirk, taking some enjoyment in hearing his panic.

  Then, just as the fuzzy pins-and-needles pain that I’m inflicting on him becomes so intense, he begins to cry, I pry my eyes open and watch. I take it deliberately slow, ensuring maximum torture, and then I kick it up a notch…

  His breath quickens as he watches his bones move under his skin. Just as I see he’s about to pass out; I thrust his bone through its elasticated encasing with a sharp crack. The second that the blood begins pouring down his arm and his bone is in his sight, I snap it, cleanly, in two.

  People around me scream and I join them, appearing just as confused as they are.

  The man hollers out in agony. His voice rattles across the small tin space we’re occupying and echoes so loudly that I have to block my ears with my hands for fear they’ll bleed.

  Jeez, he’s a wimp. I almost roll my eyes at him, but then something happens that makes me freeze. His eyes roll back and he goes unconscious as his body convulses out of the seat and he lands in the mid-section of the bus.

  “I think he’s having a heart attack,” a woman yells.

  The entire bus comes to a stop on an empty stretch of road and the driver calls nine-one-one. The hysteria around me becomes white noise as I watch his body struggle for breath.

  My throat feels like its closing up and my mouth is dry. I close my eyes and focus on his heart until I hear it beating in my ears… It’s in trouble.

  Panic rips through me and I stumble back. I would save him if I could, but those magic’s are above my age-grade.

  He’s struggling to stay conscious and all I can see is trees outside the windows. We’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way in hell that an ambulance will reach him in time.

  As I watch him with fear in his eyes, trying to hold on, and open myself up to his pain, I think that maybe the best thing I can do is end his suffering…

  Closing my hand into a ball, I picture his rib cage and release the fist in one quick motion, causing his ribs to crack in over, puncturing his heart. As he bleeds internally, I kneel beside his body – pretending to check his pulse – and when nobody is watching, I snake my hand into his pocket and take his keys and wallet.

  It’s not like he needs them anymore and, technically speaking, he did offer me a place to stay.

  Bringing a hand to my mouth, I stand up and gasp loudly.

  “Oh, God! I think he’s dead…”

  Within minutes, the bus empties and I spend the next half an hour sitting at the side of the road with my knees pulled up to my chin, waiting for services to collect the body and a new bus to arrive. The hot sun is beating down on me and if I had one wish in the world, I’d use it on a can of soda.

  “Crazy about that guy, huh?” Comes a voice beside me. I look up to find a girl with dark red hair, staring down at me. She smiles and holds out a bottle of water.

  ’Yeah,” I agree, taking it eagerly. “Crazy...”

  I lift the plastic to my lips and gulp down as much of the liquid as I can without seeming greedy.

  “I mean, the heart attack I get, he didn’t exactly look in great shape… but how did his arm just snap like that?” She asks, pushing a hand through her thick curly locks. Her full eyebrows pull forward questioningly.

  “No idea…” I shrug. “I think he hit it off the chair when he smacked my ass. Maybe he had brittle bone.”

  “That makes sense.” She pulls out a pack of open cigarettes and offers one to me.

  I shake my head. “I don’t smoke.”

  “Neither do I.” She laughs. “But I think we can both make an exception this time… blame the stress of having watched someone die for the first time in our young lives. Or at least it’s my first time. I don’t know about you?”

  My sights meet hers and for the first time, I notice her dual eye colour. One is dark brown and the other has a streak of hazel smudging the otherwise ice-blue tone.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, mine too.”

  She pushes the packet in front of me again, and this time I take one and hold it between my fingers.

  “I’m Maeve, by the way,” she says, lighting my cigarette for me. I place it between my lips and inhale deeply.

  “Th—” I stop myself from telling her my real name and instead say the first name that comes to mind. “Tessa,” I decide. “My name is Tessa.”

  Her face takes on an amused expression and she laughs again. It’s an annoying habit and I get the impression she does it often.

  “Trust me, I don’t take it personal that you don’t want to tell me your name. I get it…”

  “You do?” I ask, blowing smoke out of my mouth.

  “We all have a past, right? Most people on buses like these have things they’re running from. Identities they don’t want...”

  I nod.

  “So, T, how old are you?” She asks, casually, making conversation.

  “Seventeen.”

  “Nineteen.” She points to herself and then checks her watch with a smirk. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

  The academy flashes in my mind and images of the bodies I left behind make my stomach drop. I shrug, trying to look calm and casual. “Who needs it?”

  “Amen to that.” She takes an extra-long drag before discarding the stump to the ground. “Oh, hey, look… the no-dead-guy bus is here.”

  I lift my head and watch as a silver bus replaces the blue. The driver steps out of the door and waves for us to join him.

  I make my way to the back of the bus and lay my head on the cool window, hoping to catch some more sleep before we get wherever we’re headed. That hope dwindles as Maeve drops down into the seat next to me and starts her tirade of talking.

  I pull my knees to my chest on the seat and offer grunts and one-word answers at the right times as the engine rumbles and roars and the bus takes the road. This new bus has a different smell than the other one; like there’s more toxicity coming from the engine. It makes me feel nauseous.

  “We’ve still got three hours left until Phoenix,” she tells me. “So, do you know any car games?”

  This is going to be a very long drive.

  ***

  “Welcome to Phoenix, Arizona.” The drivers booming voice announces that we’ve reached our destination and wakes me from my nap

  Maeve pushes on my arm. “Tessa...”

  “Who is Tessa?”

  “You are, unless you want to change it? But fair warning, you only get one more attempt.”

  I open my eyes wider and let the world realign itself. “Oh, right.”

  “Come on, we’re in Phoenix,” she says, tugging on my arm. I nod my head and get to my feet.

  My legs almost buckle from under me and I have to grasp hold of the chair in front to keep myself upright.

  Maeve watches me with her eyes narrowed. “Are you okay? You kind of passed out on me before.”

  I nod and continue walking; the feeling of nausea creeping up on me. I quicken my pace, speeding briskly off the bus with my hand covering my mouth. I barely make it down the steps before landing on my knees – the bile of my empty stomach retching its way out of me.

  “Are you on a come down or something?” Maeve asks, discarding her shoulder bag. Dropping to my level, she pulls my hair away from my face. “Detoxing?”

  “Something like that,” I tell her because there’s no better way of putting it than that. Magic is like this infinite drug that takes you to the highest point imaginable. It’s endless within me, but if I use too much in a short amount of time, the effects it has on my body are long lasting and painful.

  “I hope whatever you took was at least worth it,” she snorts, pulling me to my feet. “Though, in my experience, it never is.”


  I smile and pick up my duffel from the ground. I lift a hand in a waving motion to Maeve and set off on my walk from the station, hoping that she won't follow me. I don’t get far before I hear her footsteps catching up and groan.

  “Hey, do you have a place to stay?” She asks it in a way that could be mistaken as her offering me somewhere, but there’s no compassion to her voice. There is, however, and underlying hint in her tone. I stop and look at her with my eyebrow raised and she fidgets under my stare. “Because… I don’t.”

  The last thing I need on the run for my life is a sidekick; especially one that looks like she does. Toting around a mundane with eyes and hair that recognizable? It’s like asking to be found.

  I bite my lip and shake my head. “Sorry…”

  “Oh, come on, that is such bullshit!” She scoffs. “I saw you take the dead guys keys out of his pocket. So, either I can crash there with you for a few nights or I head to the cops and tell them everything I saw.”

  “Which is what? It’s not like I killed him…”

  “But you did pick a man’s pocket as he lay dying. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime and if it’s not, then it sure as hell should be!”

  I’m too tired to argue with her. I just want to get where I’m going and pass out.

  I groan and turn on my heel. “Fine, let’s go!”

  “You know,” she says, following behind me. “It takes someone either really cold or really desperate to do something like that. Which one are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No.” She smirks at me. “Because I would have done the exact same thing…”

  Her admission makes me question what kind of person she is, but then I remember that in the past day alone, I’ve become a pickpocketing serial killer. I’m in no position to judge anyone.

  Fishing my latest victim’s wallet out of my pocket, I search for his licence to get his address. I find it instantly and notice something hard sticking out the back of the faux-leather.

  I pick it out.

  “Is that a car key?” Maeve asks. “Who the hell keeps their car keys in their wallet and rides the bus.”