CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sloane and Ballard stood before me inside the circle, lighting the last candles as they began soft prayers. Poe spread their wings behind them and let out a low groan before taking flight, landing atop Sloane’s shoulder with great care.
Jasper and Rowena stood off to the side, the former poised in front of my sister lest something send the spell awry. They had been warned against staying; neither Ballard nor Sloane could guarantee their safety if the magic grew beyond their control, but Jasper and Rowena remained rooted to the spot.
A rush of heat filled the room as Sloane lit the last candle. Flames grew tall as power surged through the room, permeating the air with the acrid taste of magic. She rose to her full height, she and Ballard tipping their heads back as the runes on the wall began to glow.
“Ancestors,” Sloane hissed, her voice not of this realm. “Hear us and answer our call.”
The wind howled, rattling the windows and sending debris skittering across the floor outside the circle. I sat back on my knees, palm outstretched in offering. Sloane and Ballard looked down at me with milky gazes, their eyes wholly knowing, yet unseeing, as they studied me.
“Who is it you seek, boy?” Sloane called, reaching out to trace a finger along the side of my face. “Speak their true name.”
“Leonora D’Arcy,” I whispered, fighting for breath against the weight of fervent magic bearing down on my shoulders. Sweat glistened across my forehead, running in tiny beads along the back of my neck.
This magic was wilder than any I had experienced before. An inexplicable presence seemed to crawl along my skin in anger, viciously hunting for something to sink its teeth into—tethering itself to this world.
Ballard reached down and grasped my wrist. In one quick motion, he slid the blade of a dagger across my palm and forced my hand into a fist, raising it over the map. The bite of pain faded quickly as blood flowed freely, landing on the paper in random splotches.
“From the blood kin of the sought, take this sacrifice as payment and tribute.”
Sloane and Ballard chanted incoherently, their voices blending until they became synchronous. Sparks and flame danced around the circle as the blood began to move. It was tentative: a whisper of unseen wind pushing a leaf across the surface of a pond. Still, the crimson rivulets began to race across the page as the witches’ voices grew in volume and speed.
My blood coalesced at one corner of the map, a small space outside the city proper. At first glance, it meant nothing to me—an insignificant pool of red where I assumed my mother had holed herself up.
But as Sloane and Ballard began to orient themselves within their bodies, the spell’s magic slowly released its hold on the room. Nausea roiled in my stomach until my vision blurred.
Jasper and Rowena approached from the edge of the room, the latter handing me a wet cloth to clean away the blooddrying on my arm. “Are you okay?” Rowena asked, touching my shoulder to steady my wavering body.
“Yes,” I breathed, forcing air in and out in a steady rhythm to calm my churning gut. “I just?—”
“No, no, no,” Ballard cursed, dropping to the ground to study the location on the map now marked by quickly drying blood. In a flash, he pulled his phone from his pocket and cradled it in the space between his shoulder and ear. “Pick up, you bastard. Pick up!”
“What is it?” Sloane hissed, peering over Ballard’s shoulder. He cursed again, already dialing another number when the first went to voicemail.
Jasper ripped the phone from Ballard’s hand. “Who are you—” But his voice trailed off as he saw the name on the screen, looking between Ballard and the map with trembling hands.
“We have to go,” Ballard said quickly, pulling me to my feet without so much as an explanation. “There’s no time.”
My legs shook as Jasper steadied me, looking me over with concern. I did not understand what was happening or what was being said as I fought to keep myself upright. Sweat dripped down my face despite an ice-cold chill spreading through my blood.
“What did you do to him?” Jasper asked, narrowing his eyes at Ballard and Sloane. “What’s happening?”
Mind-numbing pain traveled from the base of my neck down my spine, sending me careening for the floor. Even Jasper was not quick enough to catch me as I fell to my knees, the impacting resonating through my bones the last thing I could recall before my vision dimmed to black.
“He seems stable now,”a soft, feminine voice chimed from beyond the darkness. “Yes, his breathing has evened, and the cold sweats have gone.” There was a muffled response from someone, though it sounded choppy and distant. I could not make out the words, only the occasional sound of agreement from whoever was in this room with me.
“What do I tell him when he wakes up?” A pause. “Right, like that’ll go over well. He’ll tear my head off,” she snapped, listening to the other voice. “Do you honestly believe that will stop him from storming after you assholes? He won’t be inclined to sit around and twiddle his thumbs when he finds out where you’ve gone.”
Vague, splotchy memories flashed in and out. The weight of the spell releasing its hold, Ballard frantically trying to reach someone, and Jasper’s face before I slipped into the dark.
I found breathing difficult, as though a great weight had been laid upon my chest and restricted the expansion of my lungs. No part of me did not ache. My movements were stiff, even in my fingers, as I fought to pull myself from whatever stupor I had slipped into. Light flooded my vision; small, fuzzy orbs dancing around the space as I tried to bring it into focus.
“Shit,” she cursed, a small figure coming into my line of sight.Rowena. “He’s waking up.”
My mouth was dry as I tried to speak, my voice cracking. “What happened?”
Rowena gently sat down next to me, clasping my hand in hers. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she breathed, smiling nervously. “We were all so worried?—”
