SACRIFICIUM (THE UNDERGROUND Book 1)

by Allie Doherty

  “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t move and I’m not surprised. The knockout potion that I put in my lip gloss is pretty potent… I think? Truthfully, I should probably hurry…. My potion skills haven’t improved as much as my fighting skills, and who knows how long I’ve got before the effects wear off.

  I take one last longing look at him and roll off the mattress, collecting my clothes from the ground. I dress quickly and tie my long hair into a ponytail. I miss a bit and it hangs in front of my face. I let out a sigh, feeling agitated at the sight of it. Strange, I think, that I’m still so concerned about my hair not looking its best when I’m about to face the fight of my life. It’s just hair…

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the steel blades of old scissors shimmering at me. With a smirk, I grab them in my hand, and without use of a mirror, I bite my lip, raise my hand half way up my ponytail and hold it in place as I clamp the scissors down and listen to the thud as the hair drops to the ground.

  The hair tie drops with it and my now short hair swings loosely around my face. I drop the scissors, make my way to my mom’s old room, and grab her favorite leather jacket from the back of her closet door. I shake off the dust and slide it on. It’s a little tight on me, but if I’m dying tonight, I’m dying in this jacket. With that resolution, I make my way downstairs.

  Maeve is lying face down on the crusty, worn out table with a mostly empty bottle of whiskey beside her.

  “Shit!” I say, rushing to her side.

  When I spiked the bottle, I hadn’t expect her to drink the whole thing! I move her red mane from her face and push two fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. It’s faint but it’s there, and she’s still breathing. She moves, groaning in her sleep and I let out a relieved breath.

  “Stupid girl…” I laugh, laying a kiss on her head.

  Beside her there’s a notepad and pen. I take a seat and move it towards me. Whether she likes it or not, she’s getting some form of a goodbye.

  ‘Maeve,

  I know you hate me for going and not coming back but I need you to understand why I did it. This all began with me; I know that, now. I saw it! I would stick around to explain, but I don’t think you’d believe me...

  I may survive this yet, but if I don’t, I just want to say thank you. I know you came into my life through deception, but our friendship is the truest I’ve ever known. You abandoned the only family you’ve ever known to create a makeshift, dysfunctional, ragtag resistance with me.

  You’re my sister, Maeve. Blood or no blood, we’re family and wherever I end up next, I need you to know that I love you, and I’m going to miss you.

  - Forever, T.’

  I sign the letter with a stray tear and fold it into fours. I place it in her unconscious hand, slip the knife into my calf-length combat boot and walk out of the manor. I turn back, once or twice, and pray they’ll be okay without me.

  Throwing the truck door open, I climb inside and start the engine. The skies above me are dark and clear. The stars are looking down at me and all things aside, it’s a nice night. I slip the truck into first gear and move off with the ease Maeve taught me. Twisting the knob of the radio, I search through stations until something rock-ish blares through my ears.

  My power kicks in with the adrenaline and I feel myself come alive; amped up and ready for a fight. I laugh out loud, with the knowledge that I’m most-likely going to die tonight – not because it’s funny, but more because I am so terrified.

  The only saving grace I can think off that gets me through is that even if I do die, I’ll be okay; as long as I can take as many of those hunter bastards as possible with me.

  That resolution in mind spurs me on and suddenly I’m speeding down a long road in the dark, taking a sharp left at a bend and driving across the bumpy dirt roads, feeling a thrill every time I miss or hit a pothole.

  I stick my head out of the window and scream with the wind. It’s time to face my fate and no matter what happens tonight… I refuse to let them walk out of this intact.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I follow the directions the hunters sent and it takes me to a barn somewhere almost an hour away from the manor.

  The barn is painted red with white wood lining its structure. It’s not too big, and so I know there’s nowhere for them to hide, which means that they don’t view me as a threat. I’m not surprised. They probably have talismans scattered all over the place, and I have no weapons on me except for my knife.

  Approaching the door, I notice it’s ajar and my heart rate picks up. I reach for it, expecting somebody to jump out at me, but as the wood gives out a deafening creak, I see nobody else around. Rounding the door carefully, all I see is dark and –

  Lights flick on and I jump back, ready to run, but the barn door slams shut behind me. In the middle of the room, there’s a chair, and in it, somebody bound with a bag over there head and a knife in their chest.

  My heart stops and suddenly, all regard for my safety is discarded. I rush for Knox’s bleeding body and rip the bag from his head. His eyes are closed and I let out a small gasp.

  “Oh God! Ok… It’s going to be ok,” I tell him. “I’m getting you out of here!”

  I unbind the ropes that keep him seated and push my head under his arm. He’s heavy, but I refuse to leave him there. I grunt, forcing myself to stay on my feet. I stumble toward the door with Knox putting all of his weight on my body. I don’t know if he’s alive, but either way I’m not leaving his body to be defiled by the hunters.

  “Theo…” I hear him whisper my name and I smile.

  “Hey, we have to keep going, ok?”

  “No…” His voice is stronger now. “We don’t.”

  I feel the knife before I see him lunge out. The blade sticks in my gut and I double over, falling to the ground.

  “Don’t you know, if it’s not the best friend, it’s the boyfriend?” He snarls, twisting the knife deeper into me. His body covers mine and he leans his lips to my ear. “I’m sorry.”

  A wave of piercing nausea hits me and I almost vomit. A laugh rings out along with a round of applause.

  “And here I thought you’d gone soft, little brother,” Detective Jacobian embraces Knox. “Jacobian descendants, can we get another round of applause for my little brother, Knoxwell Jacobian the third, for tricking and trapping this little witch bitch.” Once again the clapping of hands rings in my ears.

  “Now…” He kneels down beside me. “What should we do with you?”

  Fear makes my body tremble, but there’s a shot on him and if I don’t take it, then I’m gonna die without doing any damage to the Hunters, and Karelia would be disappointed in me. I would be disappointed in me.

  I hold my stomach to stop my guts from spilling to the ground and wait for him to get closer. Like the creep that he is, he thrusts his nose in my hair and grins.

  “Smells like a fresh kill to me, guys.”

  Slowly, I reach for the knife in my boot and get a hard grasp on the hilt. I pant through the pain, and add a little extra emphasis for effect. They think I’m down and done. I may be done for, but I’m not down yet.

  I’m ready to lunge at his throat, and almost do, until he says, “let’s take her to meet the other one!”

  Dragging me by my hair to my feet, he forces me out of the barn. It’s a stupid plan because my power works out here and I could easily end them all…

  But then I see her.

  A teenage girl, bound, gagged and dressed in a ratty nightgown. They throw her to the ground like trash.

  “Try anything, bitch, and I will put a bullet through your head and hers. You may be strong, but are you fast enough to put us all down in time before the trigger pulls?” He snarls at me. “Time to get that disgusting power out of you, my brother…” Detective Jacobian clasps Knox’s shoulder with a smile, and then he turns on the girl, delivering one swift kick to her stomach. “Do it, bitch!”

  The girl lies motionle
ss on the ground, defeated and ready to die. I see the cuts on her body where they’ve been torturing her, releasing her essence and draining her power to give to Knox. My eyes pool with tears and lock on hers… It’s a fate worse than death to be used as a fountain for the humans who figure out how.

  “Do it!” He demands of her again and delivers yet another kick. Still she stays down and he growls. Ripping her from the ground by her hair, he holds the blade in his hand to her neck. “Do it, or we find your baby sister and slaughter her. Is that what you want, witch?”

  He pulls her hair harder and she cries out in pain. Her nightgown lifts up, and I see the burn marks on her thighs; they’re so deep I have to look away to stop myself from being sick.

  “Why are you fighting this, Clara?” Knox gets down beside her and removes his brother’s hand from her head. Stroking her hair softly, he whispers gently to her, “we’re giving you your power back, isn’t that what you want?”

  I see the reluctance in her eye and I can’t blame her. Worse than having no power, is having abused power filtered back into you. It’s volatile, and its loyalty has been messed with. It’s out of control, unpredictable and sometimes, it’s fatal.

  Giving your power to a mortal is a harsh enough task, and it’s clearly taken its toll on Clara… but taking that power back? It’s harder… much, much harder.

  The spell is such an intricate science and has disastrous consequences if it’s done wrong. Clara shakes her head with tears in her eyes and I hear her whisper pleads to Knox. She wants to die, but she doesn’t want to die that way…

  “Hit her!” His brother hollers at him.

  “No!” Knox refuses. “Not unless I have to…”

  His hand cups her face and he grazes her skin tenderly with his hand.

  “Take the power, Clara… please.”

  A loud sob escapes Clara’s throat and she shakes her head again.

  With a groan, Knox pulls back his hand and hits her so hard that her gag slips off, and her jaw almost dislocates. “Take it from me!”

  “I can’t… Please don’t make me –”

  Her lip is bleeding, her cheek is swelling, but still, she refuses him.

  “Goddamn it!” Knox yells, gripping her hair the same way his brother had. “Why are you making me hurt you, Clara?”

  “Stop!” I cry out, unable to watch anymore. “I’ll do it! I’ll transfer her power… just stop hurting her!”

  He finally looks at me and there’s sympathy in his eyes. I hate him for this, because all I want is for him to take me in his arms and tell me it’s going to be ok.

  “Bring her forward,” he commands and then I’m manhandled by two brutes and thrown down in front of Clara.

  “It’s ok…” I try to assure her as they pass me the blade. I rip it from their grasp as they warn me not to try anything – as if I would, now. There’s more than my life on the line and if I strike out too soon, Clara dies too.

  She’s shaking and squirming to get away from me.

  “Clara, I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Theodora Blackthorn; I’m a Raven-Hill witch… I’m here to help you, but I need you so stay completely still, ok?”

  There’s still distrust in her eyes but her head nods and she holds her chin up, exposing her neck to me.

  I take the blade and make a long, superficial cut across her skin. It begins to bleed immediately and then I turn the knife on Knox.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Theo.” He tells me. “If I die, you’re not gonna get a quick execution... and if you think dying is the worst thing that can happen to you, ask Clara. Imagine what we could do with you on tap?”

  I smirk because I had considered slitting his throat and bearing the consequences, but I won’t… yet.

  Making the same incision on Knox’s throat, I begin the incantation. The transference spell is one of the only spells stronger in English than in Latin because it wasn’t created until after the language died out. Its purpose was to extract enough of our magic and place it in an inanimate object so that the witch who used the spell could live a normal life without the risk of losing control…

  But after centuries of new spells being created and old spells being improved, the incantation has been adapted and twisted into so many different things. It can be used to transfer almost anything, now.

  Doing it with power from person-to-person, it’s a rarity that they managed to pull it off the first time without killing Clara and Knox. She must be a powerful witch from a powerful family for it to have worked.

  I finish the incantation, and now comes the hard part – making myself a conduit for the power to pass through.

  Running the blade across both my palms, I cover their wounds with mine and feel it move from him into me.

  “Fuck!” I scream, feeling her power mix with mine. I need to get it out of my body. It’s so full of Knox’s essence and influence; making it angry, filled with self-hatred and violence.

  Feeling it for myself, I realize that very little of Knox is good, and I can’t believe I ever thought he could be. There’s something under the hatred that tells me there’s some humanity in him, but wherever that is, it’s buried down deep right now.

  I can’t put this energy back into Clara. It’d destroy her completely. I need to separate the power from the hate and put them back into their rightful owners. God, I want to rip Knox’s head off with my bare hands and beat his brother to death with it. Then I want to stab, burn, shoot and kill –

  No! That’s not me, it’s him!

  It’s hard to decipher between the three energies because they’re so entangled with each other. I almost sob thinking of the feelings I had for him, when all he could feel was this rage. Every time he kissed me had been a lie. He never wanted me, he wanted me dead. The entire time he was with me, it was all an elaborate plan to lure me here and kill me.

  Whatever I’m doing, I have to do it fast before my power takes his hate and her magic and swallows them up.

  I close my eyes and delve into myself. I see all of the energies as different colours: Clara’s is a vibrant green with sparks of red bouncing off it, there are also cracks of black showing empty spaces – damaged and fractured. Knox’s is so dark and twisted, and it’s wrapped around Clara’s, suffocating it. I think back to the time Knox told me he wasn’t a powerful witch and how bitter he sounded, and now I know why – he’d expected her magic to give him such a high amount of power to use, but he clearly hadn’t banked on himself being a vat of water, extinguishing her flame.

  My energy is what shocks me most. It’s golden, just like the flecks on my face, but only half of it shines brightly. The other half – I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s black and sticky looking, like some kind of goo… and when I reach for it, the golden half turns luminescent, but the black half prickles and attempts to wrap itself around me.

  I have to repel it back and breathe deeply to stop myself from reaching for it again; it’s addictive and it felt so good when I touched it. I want to stop fighting it, and let it take me over completely.

  You’re not here for that, Theo. Not yet…

  Focusing my attention back on Clara’s energy, I pry Knox’s from it by force. It’s refusing to let go – telling me that some part of him wants it so badly, he’s willing to fight for it, but it’s not his and I refuse to let him keep any part of it.

  I rip the evil from it and slam the dark energy back into its hateful owner, pushing him so far back he lands clear across the field. Next is Clara’s energy, I take it slow, feeling the full effects of her undiluted power. Damn, she’s strong – a lot stronger than Knox ever was.

  Part of me begs to keep it and add it to mine.

  Instead, I push it through my hand and watch in amazement as it finds its home and lights her up like a Christmas tree.

  I drop my hand, feeling exhausted and my palms land in the bloodied grass on the ground. I don’t have time to waste now. Knox is on his feet, his brother is sneering, and Clara is pass
ed out beside me. All I want to do is lay down beside her, but if I give in, I’m signing both of our death warrants and I refuse to do that.

  Detective Jacobian pulls me by my hair to my knees and I see the talisman around his collar, putting me on mute. The knife in his hand grazes the skin on my neck and he smirks. He pulls my hair again, telling me that he wants me on my feet so he can see me drop, but he’s so focused on hurting and humiliating me that he doesn’t see me grab the hilt of the Raven-Hill knife and pull it from my boot. I hide it behind my back as he pulls his blade back and sticks it in my shoulder.

  I scream out in agony and my head feels dizzy. I feign passing out and he catches me, ripping me back to his level like a rag-doll. His defence is down as he laughs about how weak I am, and I take my opportunity. I reach up with my right hand and plunge my knife into the side of his neck. When I pull it out, the blood squirts with it and Jacobian drops to his knees and then lands face-first to the ground.

  Free of restraint, I run for the barn and back into a corner.

  With their leader down, silence and shock radiates through the masses, and for a second, I think they’re too shocked to move but then one comes at me, and they all do. I see Knox in the back, fall to his knees beside his brother and despite myself, my heart pulls for him. Once again, I have to remind myself that he’s not the person I thought he was, and if I get the chance, I’m going to have to do the same to him.

  Between me and the barn door, there are eleven hunters and Knox. I made a mistake coming in here. I can’t get past them, and even if I could, I can’t leave Clara out there, so I’m going to have to fight.

  They advance on me all at once and all I can do is swing out. The knife in my hand glows along with me and as the first hunter comes at me, I pull back, ducking under his punch and pushing the knife back. It hits in the middle of his spine – a killing blow – and I move onto the next.

  He hits me so hard in the face with a closed face that I stumble. It’s all it takes for him to land another blow on me and I’m down. Three blades come at me at once, and each one of them land. One in my thigh, another in my stomach, and one in my chest…