SACRIFICIUM (THE UNDERGROUND Book 1)

by Allie Doherty

  She starts with the man who held her back. His neck is snapped with such power that it almost decapitates him completely. With her sister still in hand, she makes her way through the crowd. As she passes, each one of those bastards drops to the ground, their lives ending with nothing but a look.

  When she’s done, there are fifty-or-so dead bodies and only one still standing. The fire from the pyre bends at her whim and spreads from the wood, through the dirt, burning every last one of their corpses to ash.

  She reaches the edge of the ground where the heap of wood was built and meets the man she let live. He meets her halfway and takes Solaris’ body from her arms.

  “Augustine…” Her power breaks, and she along with it, sinks to the ground and sobs. “They killed her.”

  “I know, my love. I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” He lowers Solaris to the ground and takes Karelia in his arms, stroking her hair and letting her crumble against his chest. “I wish I could have saved her for you.”

  The fire is getting out of control and spreading to trees all around. Karelia doesn’t have the emotional strength to stop it and so Augustine lifts a hand and the flames extinguish. Pulling her from his chest, he kisses her, deeply.

  “No,” I say, confused. “You married a human; Thomason Ellis, my great-grandfather...”

  “You’re right, I did, but he was not my true love, Theo. I didn’t know it at that time but I was pregnant. I had my child by that man and I’m thankful, because without him, you wouldn’t be standing beside me. None of my witches would have lived… But he was an abusive and abhorrent drunk. He worked for the men who did this to my sister. I couldn’t live with that.”

  “So what happened to him?”

  With a smile, her eyes land on the charred remains of the man who had held her by the waist and signed Solaris’ death warrant.

  “He got what he deserved.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

  “My Augustine – a Caswall witch – he was a kind, stubborn man. He was happy and loving but firm and he was a leader. He trained me in my magic and he applauded when I surpassed him. My Soul-mate… We raised his children and mine, lived a long life together and died together. But that is a story for another time, my daughter. For now, I need you to see what’s right in front of you…”

  I look to the ground and see a man there, dead at my feet. His arm is sprawled out, his palm facing upward. It’s all burned and bloodied, but I still see it… the familiar six incomplete circles.

  “A hunter.”

  “One of the first in the world. He was the beginning of a special line; the head of the town council who decided which ‘witch’ lived or died. He wasn’t ever interested in the politics of it, of course… But the simpletons of the town were easy bait for a man like Greggor Jacobian. He lied about so many women, spread hate through fear, and used the pyres as a way of performing the duty that he felt he was born to... a duty that he passed onto his children.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down softly. “I wish I could have found my strength sooner. I would have killed him before he had the chance to start all of this, and if I could go back now, I would murder his sons in their beds. I thought about it back then, but the idea of killing children… I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That weakness had consequences.”

  She holds out her hand for me to take and I do.

  The scene changes before my eyes and we’re standing in a desert wasteland. It’s empty besides a small shanty-town. There is magic all around, warding from danger.

  “A coven?”

  “A family…” She smiles.” Not all related by blood, but all loved. One of my daughters, your great-great-great aunt, Nina Raven-Hill; she led this coven through many great battles, but on this night, the unexpected ambush...”

  Men arrive in hoards on horseback, women too… They have bone-knives and other utensils intended as weapons. But the main things they have are their talismans.

  “That’s the same one Detective Jacobs had…”

  “Jacobs?” She laughs. It’s cold and filled with hatred. “Jacobian... They’re all Jacobian’s.”

  The witches try to fight, but with their powers muted, they’re left unable to protect themselves and they perish brutally. Stabbed, skinned, beaten and bludgeoned until the only one left is Nina. She stands tall in the face of her death and casts an eye to a man, lying cold on the floor. Her hazel orbs show heartbreak and her quivering lip tells me that she wants to lie down and die with him.

  But she refuses to go down without a fight. She breaks out towards them, clawing, kicking, punching and screaming… She’s outnumbered and she knows she’s outnumbered, but it doesn’t stop her from trying.

  They make easy work of subduing and binding her, with her hands tied behind her back, but like any true warrior, she’s still kicking for her life. They growl; the animalistic need for a kill in their near-black eyes. There’s no light behind them – just empty, dark, murderous souls.

  I wait for them to slash her throat, the way the books told me it happened, but the books never get it completely right, do they? There’s always something omitted...

  In this case, it was the example they made of her. Dragging her to the ground by her hair and passing her round as though she was a kick-ball, they each landed a hard, fatal blow to her body. Hands, feet, knives all came down around her stomach. She cried out in pain, using her hands to cradle the small bump.

  “A baby?”

  “Her first…” Her voice breaks. “She was so excited. She had spent months trying for that child with the man she loved, only to have it ripped from her along with her own life.”

  When the attack becomes too much for her body to handle and the blood is spewing from her mouth and running down her legs; only then do they finally drag her to her knees and take a sharpened piece of bone across her throat.

  They drop her like she’s nothing to them and cheer in success. The witches – men, women, and children – they’re all dead. The hunters rejoice.

  With each slain body in my eyesight, my stomach twists in knots. Some are tiny babies… barely alive and sentenced to death for powers they didn’t even know they had yet.

  The hunters set fire to the town and move on, not bothering to stay and watch it burn to the ground because their job is done and they no longer care. I can’t look at it either, but for a very different reason…

  “Watch,” Karelia tells me with a smile.

  I search the scene and see nothing but devastation until…

  They emerge from their hidden place behind the largest camp tent: Three girls, black of hair, and beautiful…

  Serena, Lilith and Josie Raven-Hill, Nina’s younger sisters…

  Then the boy, three years of age, cradled in Serena’s arms, he was the first male in our line, his name was Matthew.

  “Nina sacrificed herself so they had a chance at survival.” My heart sores.

  “She saved our entire line with that one act of pure bravery.” There’s a note of admiration and pride coating her words; but there’s also something else hidden in there. My eyebrows shoot up when she looks at me.

  “You’re a very clever girl, aren’t you?” She smiles. “Just as I was.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “You’re almost the last of me, Theo. It’s poetic really, that you should be the one to save my line.” Her smirk is secretive and it unnerves me. “We’re dwindling, but so are they. Their numbers are nothing compared to what they were then. There will always be hunters in this world, Theodora, but none like these. They’re dastardly and brutal… and they need to be exterminated.”

  “Do I look like an assassin to you?” I bite. It’s harsher than expected but all she does is smile, like my aggression makes her happy. “You’re sending me after hunters who have power-repelling talismans. You’re sending me to my death and I’m sorry, Karelia but I won’t kill anyone else unless I have to.”

  “What makes you think you have a
choice?” She laughs. “They’re coming whether you seek them out or not. I hope for your sake, and mine, that you’re prepared. Get ready, Theo. This only ends one or two ways; their end or ours. Make a decision!”

  And that’s how she leaves me.

  I jolt awake, and find Maeve’s eyes on me.

  “You were thrashing around like you were trapped in a nightmare.”

  “I was.” I rub the sleep from my eyes and focus on the road. “Where are we?”

  “I have no idea,” she tells me. “I’m just following directions. You’ve been asleep for around six hours though, so I’d say we’re about quarter way there.”

  “Do you want me to drive for a while?” I offer because it’s polite.

  “No, thanks… I don’t want to fall asleep with you at the wheel, I’d wake up dead.”

  “Wake up dead?” I repeat with a snort.

  “So, your name is The-o-dora?”

  “You caught that, huh?”

  “Weird name,” she says with a smirk. “Whatever, you’ll always be just ‘T’ to me…”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I must have fallen back to sleep because when I wake, its dark out.

  My eyes slide to Maeve, she looks exhausted. Pity and guilt eat away at me.

  “You need to teach me to drive…”

  The car jerks at the sound of my voice and almost slides off the road.

  “God! Warn people before you do that!”

  “Sorry,” I say with a smile, pushing myself into an upright position. “How long have we been driving?”

  “Around seven more hours since the last time you asked.” She sighs. “I stopped to pee at a gas station and loaded up on snack-foods when the guy wasn’t looking. They’re in the back if you’re hungry.”

  As if on cue, my stomach growls so loud it echoes through the car.

  “Thanks,” I say, reaching into the back seat. I take a look at my options; assorted chocolates, chips, dips, and sodas. I settle on the cool-ranch chips, salsa dip and a can of a diet-Pepsi-knockoff-brand, ‘Depsi’.

  “How did you manage to snake all of that stuff without being caught?”

  “Thank God for over-sized hoodies.” The highway we’re on is packed, bumper-to-bumper and traffic is moving slowly. “We need to change vehicles.”

  Again, she’s right. The cop and the hunter both saw the truck, up-close and personal. Not even changing the plates would be any good at this point. My stomach flips nervously at the thought of stealing a car manually and more so at the thought of having to use my power to physically take a car from someone.

  “You sleep like the dead, you know?” She tells me. “Except you thrash around more than they do... I tried to wake you a couple times but you were comatose. What was your nightmare about?”

  “Nothing good…” The words ‘witch trial’ are at the tip of my tongue but the twinging in my gut repels them back. “Run-of-the-mill nightmare, I guess...”

  An hour ticks by with nothing but low-volume music coming from the radio before we spot an exit. Maeve takes it and an overhead sign tells us we’re in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Even in the dark, it’s beautiful. There are fairy-lights illuminating the trees on our way in and the scenery is a quaint mix between Spanish architecture and old-western movie sets.

  Pulling up in a parking lot outside of a beautiful, large, rock and cement building, Maeve turns off the engine.

  “What is this place?” I ask.

  “The back of a courthouse,” she tells me and scopes out the parking lot. “Oh, what about that car?”

  She points to a looks-to-be-new, white range rover. “You want to steal a car from an officer of the law? That’s dangerously stupid and reckless!”

  And kind of thrilling to think about…

  “You keep saying ‘you’ when I think you mean, ‘we?”’ She grins, a playful twinkle in her two-tone eyes.

  “I don’t feel right about this,” I tell her. “Somebody worked really hard for that car…”

  “Look, it’s not about working hard, it’s about survival. If we want to survive, we have to be completely off the radar which means we need a new car and I figure that judges, A.D.A’s and lawyers are more likely to have an insurance premium that covers theft than Joe-regular down the street, working a nine-to-five and barely scraping the rent together month-after-month.”

  She makes a good point but I’m still not convinced. “Don’t you think stealing a judge’s brand new range rover is going to put us higher on the wanted list?”

  Maeve gnaws on her bottom lip and whines. “But I’ve always wanted a range rover!”

  Her pouting face makes me want to cave. She looks almost child-like, her eyes begging me to reconsider. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her use an expression that didn’t scream ‘tough and ruthless,’

  “Maeve come on, It’s stupid and—”

  “Please, T! We’ll change the plates in a few miles, I promise!” She clamps her hands together in a pleading gesture. “If I could get down on my knees right now, I would!”

  “…I don’t know, Maeve.”

  “Well you better think about it fast because it’s seven-forty-five and according to the sign out front, this courthouse closes for business at eight-pm sharp.”

  I need a moment to think about this but Maeve begins making ‘tick-tock’ noises.

  “Oh-p, seven-forty-six now… Time is running out, T!”

  She had a point about the insurance policy on a car like that...

  “Seven-forty-seven...”

  Still, that’s someone’s hard earned money… But when needs must, does the end justify the means?

  “Seven-forty-eight...”

  Her voice is getting annoying... I check the dashboard, the time hasn’t moved from seven-forty-six and Maeve is being dramatic. I cut her a look and she snorts.

  “Okay, fine, I give in!” I say, throwing my hands up. “We’ll take the rover, but if we get caught –”

  “Yeah, yeah… I go down and you don’t, blah-blah-blah.” She opens the driver-side door and practically skips her way to the back of the truck. Collecting the bags, she runs, giggling across the parking lot. Not exactly as inconspicuous as I would hope to be when stealing a car and nobody could ever accuse her of being subtle.

  I open the door and keep my head down, chasing after her. When I reach the range-rover, she gives me a look and nods to the door. I shrug, unsure of what she wants me to do…

  “Open it!”

  “But I don’t have a key.” And then it hits me. “Oh, right… magic.” Duh!

  She narrows her eyes at me and crinkles her forehead. “Really... how are you still alive?”

  It’s not an unfair question...

  The buzz starts in my stomach and I push it through to my fingers. I place them on the door-handle, imagining the anatomy of the car lock; I see the mechanics twist in my mind, unlocking. With a jolt, I pull back the car door and wait with bated breath in case of an alarm.

  Nothing.

  My lungs expel in relief.

  Maeve screeches in delight and climbs into the driver’s seat.

  I join her in the car and again, she looks at me.

  “Oh, hell no! I have no idea to magically hot-wire a car, Maeve! I thought you would have this part covered?”

  “I’m a badass, not a joy rider!” She yells. “I wasn’t trained for that!”

  The panic sets in and suddenly, we’re both searching the visors for keys with no result.

  “Check the glove compartment!”

  She does, the time ticking on. Digging her hands in the small space, she rips out papers, files and a gun that all come crashing to the floor.

  “Hurry up!” I panic, seeing a light shine from the open back doors of the court house. “People are coming!”

  “Got them!” She shouts, her hand jitters as she fumbles around, trying to get them into the ignition. They bounce from her fingers and hit the floor. Eyes wide, she bends down and roots around for them.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  She needs to calm down. “Relax!”

  “You know what doesn’t make me relax? Being told to relax!”

  I hear them clatter as she lifts them from the floor. My heart is beating fast and I let out a relieved sigh as the keys slip into the slot and she twists them. The engine roars to life and I secure my seat-belt, preparing to speed out of there.

  Maeve puts her foot down and we round the corner with the tires screeching. I’m sure whoever just came out of the courthouse was hit with the toxic smell of burnt rubber – that’s how fast we’re driving – I yell out a mixture of a laugh and a scream; a celebration of our complete mission. We’re back on track and Maeve is not slowing down and though my heart is pounding with adrenaline and fear, I am so tempted to stick my head out of the window like a happy dog.

  Giving into the rush, I do exactly that and the street lights bounce off my face as I free my hair from its elastic prison and allow it to whip around me with the wind.

  I gather the papers and files from the glove compartment and throw them behind me, watching as they float in the air before hitting the ground. I stick my arms out of the window with my head and feel the wind resistance on my hands.

  I feel rebellious.

  I feel like a somewhat normal teenager.

  And for the first time since Anna died… I feel alive.

  ***

  Two hours later, we stop by a small town that I don’t bother to get the name of. Coming up on the first car we find parked in a superstore lot – a red Renault Clio – I get to work unscrewing the license plate as Maeve, again, stocks up on more junk food.

  It’s harder than it looks to unscrew and replace a plate and it's not until Maeve appears by my side, sipping a slushy and laughing, that I know I’m taking too long.

  With the last screw loosened, the Renault’s plate clatters to the ground and the sound it makes vibrates and echoes through the empty space around us. Maeve’s head spins to check if there’s anyone around. She gives me the ‘okay’ hand signal and I continue with my mission.

  The plates are off but now I have to switch them.