A Witch's Fury (26 page)

While I had told Darren I wasn’t magically
inclined, even I knew I had somehow been able to pull magic in from
Stephen, the Puppet Master who forced me to interact with the
overgrown kitten on a permanent basis.

“I’ve got it, Logan, just stay with me.” He
probably scented the lie, but I was desperate to keep him sane.

Purple tendrils wrapped around his wrists,
sliding up his arms, pulsing with raw power. Moving my hands, I
touched the restraints. It burned, flaying my nerves. My hands were
sizzling, the scent of burning flesh causing Logan to buck even
more wildly.

Tears leaked down my cheeks as again I
pulled, drawing the magic into me. An echo, vision or memory had me
seeing the purple eyes of the witch in the cave where I rescued
Blake, and since I didn’t believe in coincidences, I’d be paying
her a visit, you know, right after I regained feeling in my
hands.

Blowing out a breath, I cracked a blurry eye
at Logan. His raw sienna eyes were wide, staring down at me. My
body swayed down, my muscles unable to keep me upright. I thumped
again onto the hard concrete with a groan. At least it wasn’t a
long fall this time.

“What did you do, Olivia?” he asked,
confused.

“What I do best.” I gave an attempt at
pushing up, but my hands had curled into themselves. “Suck.”

Crap, I walked right into that one.

Logan cleared his throat, his calm detachment
forced back into place.

“Are the cuffs still spelled?”

“Nope,” I groaned, the concrete suddenly very
comfortable.

…

I woke up with a lion standing over me. I
refused to be embarrassed about the gasp and squeak that left my
mouth.

Caramel eyes drifted down to me, humor
twinkling in them as he licked my hands with a rough tongue. “Ow,”
I groaned, shifting onto all fours under him. The choice to lean
against his furry arm wasn’t from lack of strength.

The weight of the chains was gone, replaced
by the throbbing in my hands. Repositioning myself so I could look
at Logan without getting cramps in my neck I asked, “So, for your
first time being captured with a succubus, is the experience
everything you expected?”

He lowered his nose, huffing into my
face.

“Alright, I’m getting up.” Grabbing a fistful
of fur, I clamped down on a whimper and hauled my body off the
floor.

“Fucking witches,” I hissed.

…

I went first on the stairs, mainly so that if
lion-sized Logan broke them I wouldn’t be stuck. Secondly, because
I needed to do some damage. The rage I had absorbed demanded an
outlet and I was only too happy to accommodate.

We had found a healing salve in a container
of miscellaneous ointments, and while my hands weren’t back to
normal, I could unfurl and use them. Okay, so the witches may have
a few, and I stress a few, uses.

I pushed the door open a crack with my
shoulder, crouching down to peer on either side before moving it
farther. The door swung easily and granted, if I hadn’t had my head
pounded against a hard surface twice in the last 24 hours, I might
have questioned that.

But I didn’t, which was exactly why I got
grabbed by some wolf flunky.

“Logan, RUN!” I screamed. The four hundred
pound lion bounded up the steps, only to have the steel door
slammed and locked in his face. Fuckers were prepared, I had to
give them that.

I bucked, thrashed and was just generally
difficult in the flunky’s grasp.

Eli’s son yelled for more men to hold me.

It took three. If my hands weren’t injured,
it would have taken more. Eventually, I was forced to kneel,
bleeding from a busted lip and broken nose, as Destiny moved toward
me.

“Difficult,” she advised me.

“Bitch.” Not my best comeback, I’ll
admit.

“Remove her,“ the witch commanded the
shifters.

“Taking orders from witches now.”

The asshole with a chokehold on me pulled my
hair back, exposing my neck, his nose drawing down to inhale deeply
before he whispered in my ear, “You survive this, and you are
mine.”

“She won’t,” Destiny said, moving around the
small, dusty kitchen, gathering her supplies.

“I will say I am impressed by your father’s
knowledge of the girl. I never dreamed a worthless succubus would
have the ability to absorb so much power.”

Eli’s son nodded absently, his eyes watching
me closely.

“Had we more time I would have loved to
discover the origins of her power and what else she can do.”

I turned to the side and bit down forcefully
on the thick arm around my neck, drawing blood. He didn’t let go,
but he did make me go to sleep. My last thought was that Logan
should really stop pounding into the door.

…

I was bound, again. On my back this time,
with rope securing each of my appendages, held taut by thick
stakes.

Fucking hell.

The night sky glittering above me was the
only thing I could see as chanting reached my ears.

“She rises,” a musical voice muttered before
its owner moved into my vision. “You possess a position of great
honor among our kind. You will be the bridge to reach our
families.” Pale hair peeked out from her black hooded robe,
touching my face gently.

“You are a fool,” I hissed.

“Karma, come away from the sacrifice,”
Destiny called out. I twisted, trying to see her, but my limited
vision wouldn’t allow it.

Karma looked confused by my words. Tilting
her oval face at me, she reached down, pressed a finger to my
forehead, and pushed. Magic exploded behind my eyes, white in
color, pure in intensity. My natural guards grabbed it before
braiding it and shoving it down deep.

When my vision cleared, Karma smiled. “You
are the perfect sacrifice.”

I groaned, closing my eyes. This was not
good. These assholes knew more about my magic than I did and unless
Logan got out of his cage, I wasn’t going anywhere anytime
soon.

Great, more time with the witchy bitches.

Their chanting lulled me; calm stole upon my
limbs and I relaxed, watching the sky with resignation clawing at
my heart. I always knew the life I had chosen as an Executioner
wouldn’t be a long one and if this was how it ended, I couldn’t
bring myself to care.

Eventually, Grams would send out a party to
look for me or Darren would hunt down his brother. They might be
too late to save me, but I had confidence they would stop the
witches and free a pissed off Logan.

Destiny moved above me with an impressively
wicked hunting knife.

“Begin,” she whispered. From my side, the
witches formed a line, repeating the same thing Karma had done,
touching my forehead and shoving. Some shoved quite a bit, others
nothing more than a spark. I closed my eyes, seeing the colors
bloom and absorb into the pit filling up in front of me. The color
darkened slowly into an oily darkness, coating my insides until it
demanded a release.

I really wished the new skill of killing
someone by pushing my emotions—okay, possibly magic—into them was
something I could summon on demand.

My back arched of its own accord and I pulled
on the ropes again. They moved ever so slightly, digging into my
wrists and ankles. I wrapped my hands around them.

Destiny crouched in front of me, the blade
above my heart. “If only someone had bothered to train you. You
would be the greatest magician the world would ever know,” she
whispered.

Someone had taught this bitch how to cut, for
she sliced vertical cuts up my arm, deep enough to burn but not
life threatening. Using the same blade, she sliced off my leathers
at the upper thigh, cutting close to my femoral artery, allowing my
blood to flow freely. This was an impressive torture technique. I’d
have to remember it, pending survival of the blood loss.

The chanting began anew, calling to the magic
inside of me, summoning it to thread out above my head. I blinked
as their voices formed the magic into a spinning circle. My warm
blood spilled over my wounds, soaking into the ground.

“It’s working,” Destiny breathed, the knife
lowering to her side, wonder in her eyes.

“ITS WORKING!” she screamed, the wind
whipping around her. I wanted to struggle, but the heavy tide of
magic had me feeling as if a giant was kneeling on my chest,
pinning me to the spot.

The circle turned into a sphere, cracks of
white piercing the darkness. The witches continued their chants,
having to scream to be heard above the howling cyclone that was
forming.

A face appeared for only a flash and my body
stilled. If that was whom they called, I wanted to die and I wanted
to die now.

The sphere moved next to my body and a booted
foot stomped onto the ground. Seven feet tall, with a black cape
and blood red breastplate, he looked every bit the gladiator coming
to the rescue, but I knew better. He was a barbarian.

“Four,” he oozed, his voice grating on my
nerves. “It’s been some time, pet.”

I pulled against the bonds, feeling the rough
rope slice into my wrists, warm blood flowing faster from my
wounds. His steps moved away from me, and though I hadn’t seen his
face, I remembered it well. A decayed skull sat upon his shoulders,
black orbs for eyes and sharp, sharp teeth.

My head thumped against the ground and I let
the tears fall from my eyes, unashamed. The witches had unleashed
into this world the monster I feared the most. We were all
dead.

A soft touch had my eyes snapping open.
“There, there, Four, all is not lost.”

“Bob,” I whispered to the short, twig-like
man as he moved away from me.

“Now, Luharposn, take your pick. The Queen
has only allowed us a short time here.”

“Pity.” The gravelly voice had me pulling
against my bonds again, sending a fresh wave of pain through my
body.

“No, we called for Bob.” Destiny’s voice
sounded panicked.

She knew the name. She had seen my
memories.

“Bob is a peacekeeper. You cannot call him,
nor can you choose whom you call, you pathetic half-breed.”

So she was right about being part Fae. I
wished that mattered.

Bob tapped his foot impatiently, crunching
the dead leaves under foot.

“I want Four and—“ I squeezed my eyes closed,
refusing to let the whimper of fear leave my mouth. The others
would be safe: Grams, Tommy, Mindy, Harrison, Kass and Hannah, they
would be okay. Bob would make Luharposn leave. Even if he took me,
even if he delivered a fate worse than death, I would keep my loved
ones safe. I blew out a breath, my struggles ceasing.

“If you take Four, you cannot have anyone
else,” Bob negotiated.

“I dislike your rules, Peace Keeper.”

“I’m aware, Luharposn, but these are the
Queen’s rules. If you take Four, that is all you can take; if you
take the others instead, you may have them all.”

“Fine,” Luharposn ground out.

In a blink the clearing was deserted, the
inky blob disappearing into the night sky. I sagged against the
bonds, relief flooding through me as the tears dried up.

A roar penetrated the brief silence, followed
by an eerie howl.

“Please be help,” I groaned, lifting my head
to search the area I thought the noise had come from.

Logan’s angry form sprang into the clearing,
moving slowly when he saw only me pinned down.

“A little help!” I called out, trying to mask
my shaky, strained voice.

Not sparing a look at me, he sliced the ropes
holding my legs before moving to my head. Pulling my body parts in
close to my core, I sat up too fast, blinking away black spots.

Leaning my head on my knees, I blew out a
breath, savoring the fact that I could do so after how close I had
come to a fate worse than death.

Logan shifted forms, kneeling down next to
me. “Olie.”

“He was here,” I whispered, my body shaking
against my iron will.

“Who was?” Logan asked, searching the
area.

“He’s gone,” the words a brush against my
lips; I was losing the battle against unconsciousness. “He took
them all, new play things. I was an old play thing.”

He crushed me to his naked chest and I’ve
never been so happy for my cheek to be shoved into a sweaty shifter
chest.

…

I awoke slowly, groggily, to Logan’s hands
running over my open wounds.

“They aren’t deep,” I slurred, trying to sit
up. “It’s more exhaustion.”

I groaned, putting my head between my knees.
“How far are we from the house?”

“Not far, can you walk?”

I nodded, pushing off the soft ground made
damp by my blood.

“I’m going to shift, I’ll be able to detect
threats faster.”

I nodded, pulling myself back to my own two
feet while Logan made the transition. The large lion butted up
against me, helping to support my weight.

I’m pretty sure Logan’s take on distance was
wrong, because we walked until my wounds soaked through all my
clothing. When the tall porch steps finally came into view, I was
close to passing out from both exhaustion and blood loss. Up the
four steps I pulled myself, using the faded blue wooden handrail,
collapsing on the final step.

Logan shifted again and walked by me,
hopefully to check out the house. My eyes drooped closed and while
I knew I shouldn’t give in to the temptation to sleep, I’m fairly
sure I did, awakening once Logan picked me up.

“Humogh.”

“That’s not English. I found keys, we are
leaving.”

Sounded good to me.

…

Soft bedding under me was a contrast to the
multiple pricks of pain in my body.

“Oww,” I moaned.

“Don’t move!” shouted two voices.

Cracking an eye open, I looked down to Logan
stitching up my leg and Mark tackling my arm.

“Where’s Jerry?”

“Sleeping.”

I grunted, “Is he okay?”