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He threw it at me and as it landed on my lap, I had a flash of vision. The mark was unusual, and was as he said, it had our coven’s crest on it. On the back of the doll, an oak leaf in the centre of a pentagram. I could feel the power from our sabbath, feel the energy of my sisters.
A cold shudder ran through me as I moved to place the glass on the coffee table, he snatched it up, smashing it into the fireplace.
Then he snatched at my wrists. I punched my palm into his chest, willing a blast of power through him. It smarted, he doubled over and as I clambered up and over the chair to get the hell away from the wolfman who was crouching, snarling before me, before I got to the door.His hair partly covered his face, which was transforming before my eyes.
“I don’t think you’re so pretty. I will claim you, though, just to punish you, bitch. I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I see your witch-ass has tried to betray me, so I claim you for myself. You’re mine to do with as I will.”
I shouted back at him, “Why would my coven leave evidence at a crime scene? We’ve been framed, you mad old dog!”
Though the poppet, it did feel like the magic that Mattie used.
In that instant, stupid me, I hesitated as he grabbed my wrists tightly, knowing full well that I needed my hands, my fingers to weave a spell.
His eyes blackened, leaving no whites, his chest rising as he almost howled, “Adam! Get the witch cuffs!”
Shit…
“It isn’t me! You’ve gone feral, you crazy wet dog! If it was me, I’d hardly walk into your home without a weapon, would I?”
His eyes darted to my belt where my athame was sheathed. He leaned in, his fangs brushed my neck. “What’s that for then, cutting cake? No, I should never have trusted you. After Lisa and Nathan, I thought what the hell. Here’s a nice piece of ass, maybe I’ll take her for myself. But no, like all of your witchy kind, back-stabbing bitches. Too late.”
Adam appeared. I couldn’t swallow. The handcuffs had metal finger holders attached, rendering my hands immobile. Marrock’s smile engulfed his face. He bit my neck, not drawing blood, thank god, but sucking on it to mark me. I winced, trying to lean away but the more I did, the more he pushed himself into me.
He was excited, I could feel that. Wild, savage, and he was about to direct all that at me. Fighting back the fear, I took a breath and let my body sink, which had him falling with me. Then smack.
My knee smashed into his erection, instinctively he let go as I pushed him into Adam and got the bloody hell out of there.
Pack members stood outside. Sensing my fear in the wind, some started shifting. I knew some would shift into wolves, others the monstrosity of half-beast, half-man, the true werewolf.
I had seconds.
Which way? I drew my athame and skirted around the back of the house, weaving magic with shaky hands before me. The whiskey had blurred my mind a little but luckily for me, the abject fear and horror of Marrock cleared my head pretty darn fast.
I stopped, turned around, that familiar heat licking through my limbs and belted out a whip of ice-blue fire all around me.
Only to see a wolf leap up over it. Quick as I could, I screwed up my face, magic tingling through my veins like bubbling water and using my hands to cast a dome of white-hot flame all around me.
Marrock was suddenly there. Naked, blood smeared as he gripped Adam’s hair, Adam’s severed head in his hand as Marrock started morphing. But not as a wolf, as the beast, roaring. His eyes looked into me, full of hate.
Death permeated all around me. Surrounded, encircled by wolves baring fangs, and the bipedal beasts, I was doomed.
BITTEN
My hand cramped from forcing magic, I needed something more powerful. As my left hand continued to weave the spell, my right hand shook badly, channelling the blood-fused sorcery. As I continued frantically, clouds cloaked the pale sunrise, and a waist high fog hung like phantoms watching from the tree line all around me. The misty morning sky darkened. It was useless.
After everything, the spells were draining me fast. Like a drug, the blood magic felt heavy, addictive. I felt a shadow pass over me. I almost swooned under the heady energy. I closed my eyes, and dropped my hands, which let the barrier down.
My whisper was carried in the wind around them, “Come…”
I didn’t need to see them, I could smell that they were closing in. Then I opened my eyes a fraction, grinning as my gaze met Marrock’s. “Fire!”
Before they got close enough, flames emblazoned before me, Marrock, morphing back fast, screamed, “No! Retreat!”
Not all fire kills witches.
But some were as lucky as Adam, I guess. Flames whipped around them, their only defence was the beast that they’d morphed into and their rookie enchantments.
Werewolves. Unpredictable feral liars.
