His hair is gone, half his face mangled beyond recognition. His clothing is a patchwork of scorched, tattered scraps, blistered skin oozing beneath. Both of his hands are bleeding.
Clutched between them, blackened around the edges but still intact, is the Bonnivarde grimoire.
Blood of our blood of our blood…
My heart pounds.
“You fucked up tonight, witch,” he rasps. “Now, it’s time to pay.”
“Sorry! I know!” I make a cringey face and lift my hands in mock surrender, taking a step toward him. “I really thought I nailed the whole transfer spell thingy.”
“Lizzy, no!” Rachel hisses, grabbing for me, but I swat her arm away and shoot her a glance that says,get ready to run.
“Clearly, you didn’t,” Brendan says. “But like I keep telling you, I’m a good fucking guy, so you get another chance.” With a slight turn of his head, he calls out, “Got ‘em, boys. Over here.”
There’s a sharp whistle, then another. Some kind of signal. One of his goons steps out from the darkness, then one more, maybe twenty feet back.
Behind me, Kate’s still muttering about her flowers.
I chance another step closer to Brendan. Through a contrite smile, I say, “Oh, you have the book with you? Can I see it? Please?”
He clutches it tighter to his chest, the dumb fuck. “Don’t even try?—”
I launch myself at him, smashing my muddy palms into his eyes and kneeing him in the dick. He doubles over and drops the book, but there’s no time to grab it. Using the precious seconds we have before he recovers, I bolt for my sisters, grabbing hold of Kate’s arm.
“Run,” I grind out, and we take off, Rachel and I half-dragging Kate further up the hill, the goons charging up behind us, closing in fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch two more slithering from the shadows.
And still, more fighting in the distance. A separate group. Gunshots for sure.
Fuck!
“Slow down, Lizzy!” Rachel pants. “I can’t?—”
“Rachel? Time to take that metabolic health journey for a test drive. Fuckingrun!”
She groans and we push harder, our boots squelching in the mud. Brendan is up and running—I can hear his taunts, his curses—but my sisters and I are faster, following the tug of my magic to a place I’m hoping will give us some cover.
I chance a quick glance behind us, spot the men scrambling up the trail like rats. They’re too close for comfort, but there’s a slim chance they won’t see where we’re headed.
Seconds later, the stone angels of Hawthorn Cemetery come into view.
“This way.” I lead us to the gate, to the sacred place where I first truly connected with my magic. The place that went from creepy abandoned graveyard to one of my most cherished spots. The place where Merrick spent more hours than I can count helping me find and trust my magic.
It’s that feeling I’m trusting now, hoping I’m not leading us into a death trap.
We slip through the gate and run to the back of the cemetery, ducking behind one of the larger headstones, taking a moment to catch our breath. Kate drops to her hands and knees, the foliage blooming at her touch. While she coos over her new “babies,” Rachel and I watch the trail.
“Can we get out the back way?” Rachel asks.
“Yeah, but it’s even more treacherous back there. Plus, there’s more hunters around. I feel like the whole damn forest is crawling with them.” I swallow hard, the realization hitting me. “We’re gonna have to fight, Rach. Or die trying.”
She picks up a chunk of stone. “Don’t say the D-word. Not yet.”
“Fair enough.”
“Where are the demons?”
As if in response, a great inhuman roar rips through the darkness, chilling me to the marrow.Medusa.
