Page 142
Story: Bespelled
“Did you think you’d never see me again?” she asks.
I try to sharpen my mind, because this is important, but the pain and the blood loss and whatever I’ve been drugged with disorient everything.
This must be what the high priestess gave the shifter girl, Cara, before she tried to bond her. It must affect our magic.
“Ever since that night, I’ve been looking for you,” she says.
She wants you,one of the witches who attacked Nero had warned me.
Who?I’d asked.
Lia.
I stare at the high priestess, putting a name to her face. Lia. More than surprise, I feel…dread.
She’s bonded at least one witch—Lauren, the instructor Memnon questioned—and she nearly bonded Cara. And then those witches who attacked Nero, perhaps some—if not all—of them were bonded to this woman. Probably against their will.
And now I’m here, drugged and injured and restrained and very, very vulnerable.
“You cost me more than just a single girl,” Lia says. “You cost mesix. And all for what, your naive belief in honor? Justice? Where was your moral superiority when you killed my girls? The ones who lay dead in the woods. Did you know they were as innocent as the shifter you saved?”
My stomach turns on itself as she stares me down.
Lia leans forward, placing her hands on my thighs. I lock my jaw against the pain, tears pricking my eyes. “Do you feel superior now?” When I don’t respond, she digs in her fingers and shakes one of my broken legs, and my vision darkens. “Answer me.”
Selene!Memnon’s voice is alarmed.Whatever is happening, I am here. I am always here, with you.
I cannot respond to my mate’s sentiment. Not when I’m sucking air through my nose, trying not to scream or retch.
Once I think I can answer Lia, I whisper, “No.”
The woman stares at me, her face pitiless. She must see something that placates her, because her expression smooths out.
“First things first,” Lia says. “Let’s deal with these wounds.”
I clench my jaw and steel myself for whatever she intends.
“Bones reseal, flesh be stitched. Sinew mend, and wounds be fixed.”
Thick, plum-colored magic flows out of her and pours over me in waves. It sinks into my skin, warming my body as it begins repairing injuries. Whatever I expected, it wasn’t a healing spell.
Not that the spell is particularly kind.
My legs jerk sharply, Lia’s power resetting them roughly. I lean over the side of the chair and heave, sweat and a couple of rogue tears dripping from my face. Her magic jostles my ribs, and it’s so much pain, too much?—
A wail escapes my throat. But the pain crests for only moments. Then it recedes into something more manageable as her magic fixes the worst of my injuries.
I sit there panting, sweaty strands of my hair sticking to my face. I want to ask Lia why she’s healing me, but I have a horrible feeling I’m going to find out soon enough.
As the pain lifts, so too does some of my disorientation. I’m still bone-weary, but the room no longer spins, and I can truly focus on the woman in front of me.
Once my body is all put back together, her magic dissipates from the room.
“You have been betrayed by your friends, Selene Bowers,” Lia says. “Just as you will soon betray others on my behalf. You won’t get a choice. None of you do.” She pushes away from me and stands. “Most of the time, I don’t give a shit about the lives of my witches,” Lia says, backing up. “But you? You’ve pissed me off. So I’m going to enjoy using you.”
She turns from me, toward the monster.
“Creature, round up six witches or mages.” Her attention returns to me when she adds, “One for every person Selene has cost me.”
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