Page 74
The dimming of one of her bonds followed.
Shock roiled through her as she pushed the male away and shot to her feet.
“Hey! We’re not done.” The man grabbed her tail as she began pulling down on the short denim skirt she’d worn.
Her hackles rose, and the punch met his nose before she could even think straight.
She barely checked that he was still breathing before she phased out.
When the world reformed around her, she was dumbstruck by the vision. At her feet were splinters of window shutters and glass shining with the reflection of the rising sun. The entire brownstone lay decimated. Sirens bellowed in the distance.
Her steps on the debris sounded just as distant as her magic crawled out of her to search for any sign of life without her bidding.
“Dew.” She whispered. Pushing past the pain of molding magic to her command with her hunger at such a critical place, her arms rose. Kin and Louisa both phased in and each reacted at the same time she did, Louisa concentrating on putting out the fire as Rowan raised the rubble and Kin sprinted forward to reach the only source of life.
Dumping the rubble into piles around them, she and Louisa grasped hands while Kin began compressions with his pinky finger. He twisted magic to help boost healing along the body of the blue-haired fairy whose entire body had turned sooty from the fire. Focusing her above average senses, she waited to hear Dew’s heart begin its hummingbird beat. Instead, Rowan listened to it slow and slow until it stopped.
Kin continued his attempt to revive her for a couple more minutes before he lowered his hand to the ground and cast his eyes away.
Rowan felt her stomach turn sour. Storm clouds rolled in from the distance. She tried to will her power back into her body, knowing if she lost control, she wouldn’t be able to regain it easily.
But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Dew’s body and different scenarios swirled in her head. What were her last moments like? Her fury grew. Thunder rattled her teeth.
“Ro.” Louisa’s voice was soft, her grip tight.
Rowan let out her held breath, snatched her eyes away from the body and dropped Louisa’s hand. She wanted to walk off the excess energy coursing through her veins, but she was so angry, and the tears were so big and fat she felt like she was drowning as she kept her sobs locked away.
Was it the Coven who had attacked? She felt she knew it was, but she had no proof. That was until her trembling legs got her to the edge of the rubble, where she felt a familiar magic signature.
It wasn’t a witch though, something as old as the dragon magic Alessandro used, but more divine? She stood over the nexus of power before she recognized it for what it was, a trap.
Chapter 22
The twisted phase that whisked from her physical spot that dropped her like a sack of potatoes onto a cool metal floor.
Panic gripped her as, for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the threads of magic knocking to get into her pores. A bit like all the air had gone from the room.
Looking around, she realized she was in an enclosure. Golden floor, golden roof and golden bars that were all etched with inscriptions of a null spell. Inside of the cage, there was a camp bed and a toilet. Outside, there was a window that overlooked a line of evergreen trees less than five feet in front of the wall. They were so tall they kept the sun from shining at full power, but there were candles lining the walls of the room. Those lights lit up the second cage she hadn’t noticed at first, and she realized she wasn’t alone.
A red-haired witch with sage colored eyes stared over at her, horrified.
Still dressed in the same navy two-piece suit she’d worn to Rowan’s office, Cherry scrambled to her feet, narrowing her eyes as if she wasn’t sure of what she was seeing. Rowan supposed it could have something to do with the fact that Cherry had never seen her succubus out.
Her cheekbones protruded from her face, malnutrition as obvious as her injuries. She had bruises from head to toe. Some were fresh, some were fading.
“No.” Cherry screamed, then clasped her hands over her mouth, terror bright in her eyes as they slid towards the still shut door before whispering, “You don’t have the grimoire with you, do you?”
Rowan shook her head. “Is this the work of your usurper of a witch?”
Cherry’s nose flared, and she nodded, “Though, I’m not sure I could call him a witch.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “What would you call him?”
“Base evil.” Cherry hissed, “How did you end up here?”
Footsteps outside of the room halted Rowan’s answer. The door squeaked open and inside the flickering light of the candles, a man with long blonde hair and jade eyes stepped in. Dressed in white silken robes, his power thrummed even through the nulling cage bars.
Rowan had never known a witch to have so much raw power at their disposal.
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