Page 5 of Rogue Witch

I maneuver my arms down past my butt and shimmy them along my legs. My belly is flat, but I still have to hold my breath in order to stretch my arms far enough to get my hands past my feet. The asshole who tied me up tied my wrists so tight as to make escape hugely uncomfortable. Plus, my fingers are numb.

I finally work the knot loose from the shoestring around my ankles. I push up onto my feet and stumble. My left leg is partially asleep. I can’t catch myself and hit the snow-covered ground. Goddammit, why did this alternative reality have to take place in winter?

I massage my sleeping leg until the pins and needles disappear, then stand. Now, I have to find a way to get the shoestring off my wrists. I examine the knot. It’s just as big as the one that bound my ankles. Maybe I should have started with my wrists. But I have to admit, I’m glad to be standing instead of lying on the cold ground.

I consider biting my way through the shoestring, but I’ll likely end up with bloodied and chaffed wrists and an even tighter knot. Whoever tied me up knew what they were doing. The knot is near my pinkies, which is much harder to reach than a knot near my thumbs. I remember as a kid, when my shoestrings knotted up, sometimes Grams had to cut the laces because the knot was too unmanageable. I scan the area, but an inch of snow blankets the ground, and I find no rocks that might act as a knife.

“Fuckers,” I mutter. They could have left me at least one knife.

Awareness causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I freeze. I’m not alone. I whirl, then gasp. A wolf as high as my hip crouches fifteen feet away. My heart thumps like a jackhammer. I’ve never seen a shifter this large, but this brute has to be one. He stares through eyes the color of tanzanite crystal. So beautiful. Beautiful or not, if he attacks, I can’t climb a tree or effectively defend myself. I center my magic in readiness to defend myself.

The wolf growls.

“Easy,” I murmur.

The wolf steps forward.

I retreat a pace.

He halts.

“Why don’t you just move on?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I blink. Is he saying no?

A shiver races down my arms. We aren’t alone. Who else is here? Another student? Gooseflesh rises on my arms. No Academy student elicits this reaction. Beyond the wolf, I catch sight of a single rippling ribbon of black angled on a slow course toward me. Fear, very different than that I feel toward the wolf, grips my heart with a hand as cold as iron.

Shadow.

Chapter Four

BLADE

For the dozenth time in the last two hours, I force back fear. We must make certain the students still remaining at The Academy are well before Ethan, Raith and I can deal with Leilah being taken in the Reaping. I open the door for the professors filing out from Raith’s office—one from each of the clans, Silwood, Longthorpe, Middlewich, and Penncarrow. The job of these powerful teachers is to reinforce The Academy with wards that will ensure the spell that activated the Reaping didn’t create gaping holes in the protection around the school. The last professor, Penelope Fairbrandt, is on her way to becoming a powerful witch to rival Olympia. She gives me a tiny nod, then passes out of view into the hallway.

I return to my place near the hearth. Raith and I were more fortunate than Ethan. After the Reaping, we led our students out of the virtual world without incident. But I sensed danger too bloody close for my liking. I prop an elbow on the mantle and shift my attention to Raith, who sits beside the Grand Witch on a sofa that faces another sofa in front of the hearth. Raith is listening to something she whispers to him. We have removed our body armor, but he still wears the same blood-stained t-shirt. At least, he had the good sense to wipe the dragon blood from his mouth. Raith is subdued, but his eyes reveal a struggle raging inside him.

Seton and Carter sit on the couch opposite Raith and Olympia. I’m astonished the Grand Witch allowed them to stay. I had counted on her ordering them out with the clan professors. I even hoped she would give Headmaster Domini some task that would take him away. No such luck.

A Watchman appears in the open doorway. He knocks and steps just inside the doorway.

“Any signs of Shadows?” Raith demands.

“No, sir,” Ciaan replies.

“I want double watches all night,” Raith orders. “The slightest problem, call me immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” He leaves as Olympia’s assistant, Franklin, enters.

Franklin ignores us and says, “Mistress Olympia,” then crosses to her, and extends a palm sized tablet.

He bends and whispers something in her ear. Olympia stands and they walk to Raith’s desk, away from us, and continue their whispered conversation. Raith meets my gaze, and I know he’s listening with his heightened vampiric hearing. The slight thinning of his mouth tells me he isn’t pleased with what he’s hearing.

Another light knock sounds on the open door and Professor David Cromwell enters. He stops, then looks at Olympia, whose attention is now on the tablet Franklin has handed her. Cromwell glances from Headmaster Domini to Raith. A sheen of sweat glistens on the portly man’s bald head.

“What is it, David?” Raith asks.