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“As much as she hates them, our main priority is to get you free. We just need to know if you guys can handle it. The magic… it does strange things to a person's mind.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “The magic is strong, but we’re stronger.”
Are they? I glance around the room. People have moved toward their cage doors, and while they look weak and painfully abused, there’s a spark of hope in their eyes.
“How do we get you out of there?” I ask.
“One of you will have to lift this end while the other pulls back the door,” Victoria instructs, pointing at the corresponding pressure points of the door. “They keep the key on a nail in the wall, just there,” she says, pointing at the keyring with a single silver key dangling from its loop. “I suppose they put it there just to taunt us.”
Orson snatches the key off the nail. “They’ll taunt you no more.” I grab hold of the bars and lift while Orson twists the lock and opens the door, all the while praying we’re not making a terrible mistake.
Asha isn’t like the others. These people could be like her, too.
When the door is open, we unlock the cuffs on her ankles and wrists, then step back. Victoria stands for one wary moment, almost as if an invisible barbed wire has replaced the door. But when she shuffles out of her cell, the moment is uneventful. She emerges in one piece. She looks back at the space she occupied, something almost like sadness crinkling the dirty flesh at the corners of her eyes.
We repeat the process nearly a dozen more times, freeing the rest of the imprisoned Blood Pack. She takes the key from Orson and, one by one, frees her packmates from the chains on their wrists and ankles. As they shed their manacles, piling them on the concrete floor, Victoria explains, “Even though we couldn’t escape our cells, they kept us shackled so that we couldn’t shift, couldn’t use our magic against them.”
They gather around us, a collection of ragged and yet freshly alert sanguivore wolf shifters. My hackles raise, acutely aware of their movements. What are they thinking? Staring back into their wide eyes, I can’t be sure.
“It’s time to finally use our magic for its intended purpose,” says Victoria.
Uh oh. “The magic has consequences,” I say.
I can’t tell if they know this already.
“Asha needs our help, and if one Blood Mage remains alive, we’ll never be free.”
Taking a deep breath, I release it slowly. “You should also know that Asha’s brother, Simon, has been using dark magic to the point where he’s become something… wrong and evil. His appearance has changed to be something similar to a person covered in tar, and his powers are stronger than anything you can imagine.”
There’s a flash of sadness in her eyes when she says, “If he’s become a danger to us, then he’ll be treated as something dangerous. Now, let’s end this thing, once and for all.” She waves to the others, and they start walking.
We move along with them, wondering yet again what will happen once they tap into their magic. Have we unleashed allies, or enemies?
FIFTEEN
Asha
Keep thinking about your men. It’s making you stronger.
My thoughts race through Orson’s gentle smile, Braxton’s dangerous smirk, and the way Max’s gaze always seems to see me deep inside. The silver magic flowing from my fingertips keeps brightening as it flows from me to Simon.
Just stay focused. Just stay focused.
I stare down the beam of my silver magic into the black mass occupying the corner of the room. The guests have cleared to either side, granting a clear space for this supernatural duel. Simon’s green counterattack draws from the slime to fuel itself, thinning the substance until I begin to spy the human face hidden within. The stream of silver magic distorts its features, as if glimpsed through a waterfall.
Simon.
It lends me a second wind as I funnel all of my strength into the shaft of silvery light. Still, even as I pour myself into my attack, it makes no difference. His face stays half-covered, and otherwise the rest of his body remains subsumed under the muck.
Murder has made him formidable. He’s much stronger than our last encounter.
You’re going to die.
I hear it as my own thought, and perhaps it is, but I have the terrifying fear that he’s infiltrated my mind. It causes me to falter, lose my balance, stumble backwards.
Max catches me, propping my body up with his own. His voice comes in my ear, filled with worry. “Asha, you can’t fight him alone.”
“I-I can.”
