Page 113 of Reckless Witch

“Now,” he orders.

“But the men were evil,” she whispers. “They liked being under the influence of The Shadows.”

“What?”

“I felt their love of The Shadows.”

Darryl extends a hand. Chelsea’s lips thin in rebellion, but she pulls two more throwing knives from her belt and lays them in his hand. He slides them into his knife sheathe, then motions us to follow as he hurries toward the house. The others crouch and follow Darryl. Chelsea falls in line behind me. I can’t tear my gaze from the two men and their weapons as I hurry past them. How could the authorities have allowed anyone to walk around with assault rifles? Had Elijah Walker’s men murdered Margiddians?

We reach the house and press against its stone wall. Darryl glances at his radio watch and gives a tiny nod that I hope means that Team Four has disabled the alarm system. He edges toward the side yard, peers around the corner of the house, then motions for everyone to follow and darts around the corner.

I edge around the house behind a tall guy and catch sight of Darryl at a side door, picking the lock. A wolf howls in the distance. I slow and scan the darkened lawn, searching for the source. The Academy really went all out to make this experience spooky.

I reach the other students as Darryl eases the door open. He peeks inside, then twists and motions us to follow. I enter behind the tall guy. Chelsea takes up the rear. We creep through a pantry, cross a kitchen, and enter dimly lit servants’ stairs. As I sidle past a sharp corner in the stairs, darkness, hatred and fear thicken. I recall a beautiful glade drenched in sunshine, with blue skies that go on forever. That is the place I will visit when we leave here.

Until then…

The tall guy ahead of me reaches the second floor and disappears to the right. I step from the stairs into a hallway softly lit by crystal wall sconces. I tense, startled by an unexpected intrusion of magic.

Lightning shoots up the stairwell behind me. I jerk aside as students drop to the carpet. The blinding white bolt shoots past me and ignites the wall opposite the stairwell. I grunt and blink my gaze into focus on my left arm. A singed black line mars my armor.

Footsteps clattering down the stairs cause me to whirl in time to see Chelsea disappear around the turn in the stairway. Shit, the kid must have gotten scared when the lightning bolt—

My thoughts shift with a horrifying realization. That lighting was conjured by magic, not the dark magic that protects this place. Chelsea’s magic.

Darryl jumps to his feet and is saying something, but the deafening hum in my ears drowns him out. I draw a sharp breath and throw out my senses, searching for The Shadows we were warned would attack if we used magic.

I lunge down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Seconds later, I leap the remaining two steps and burst into the kitchen in time to see Chelsea halfway to the pantry. In the corner of my eye, movement causes me to snap my head in that direction. A long, black ribbon of energy tangling with itself is streaming after Chelsea.

Time seems to stop. The Shadow is so damned beautiful.

The wisp shifts as if looking in my direction. I reach out a hand—

And crash into something hard—the middle island, I vaguely realize as I hit the floor shoulder first. Pain shoots down my arm. I roll and leap to my feet, panting. Chelsea has reached the pantry. I don’t see The Shadow. Oh God, has it reached her?

“You want magic, mother fucker?” I growl. “Come get me. Dragon!” I shout, and throw out a spell strong enough to choke the fucking Shadow.

A dragon half the size of a refrigerator appears. Chelsea whirls, wide eyes on the beast. Her head swings in my direction. Our eyes lock.

A blur snaps my attention left. Raith appears just as the dragon howls and exhales fire.

A wolf howls.

A flash of light blinds me.

Chapter Forty-Eight

RAITH

Taken

I’m assigned to the southeast corner of the virtual world and to Team Four, but am watching Team Three on the tablet the surveillance cameras feed into. Leilah flanks Mason up the stairs of the crime lord’s mansion, with Chelsea Nightlow in the rear. Thus far, Leilah has followed orders.

The first students reach the second floor of the mansion and Blade’s voice announces over the radio Velcroed to my belt, “They’re doing great.”

Except Chelsea, I think, but grab the radio, depress the talk button, and say, “You’re supposed to be watching Team Two.”

“I assigned Carter to Team Two,” he replies.