Page 17

CHAPTER 17

CHARLIE

T here wasn’t a severed hand on the floor, and blood hadn’t squirted me in the face like ketchup, yet the screams coming from June suggested otherwise.

“Oh my God! Stop screaming!” I shouted, dropping the axe to the floor and double-checking that her hand was, in fact, firmly attached to her body. I poked it as her fingers wiggled and her wrists twisted in the ropes, but she continued to writhe on the chair, screaming. “Your hand is fine, you wuss.”

Elizabeth spoke behind her hand, her eyes wide. “I expect she felt the bond break. Hence the screaming.”

“She’s lost her powers?” I asked.

Her lips twisted. “I hope not.”

“Maybe we should untie her.” Elizabeth looked surprised at my generous offer, but it was a self-serving suggestion to stop June’s shrieks from shredding my ear drum. I continued, “If she’s lost her powers, then she can’t do shit anyway.”

“You just feel sorry for her because she’s screaming.”

I quirked a half smile and replied, “I’m having Vietnam flashbacks.”

I took Elizabeth’s hand wave as instructed and released the spelled ropes around June’s body, but as I unlooped them, loosening them and setting her free, June only squirmed more as though I was tightening them.

“Let me go. You’ve taken my hand!” she screamed. “Elizabeth, he’s taken my hand. Goddess, save me.”

“And I thought I was dramatic,” I muttered.

I picked up her arms, which she continued to keep behind the chair despite no longer being restrained and threw them to her front so her hands fell into her lap.

But when I circled the chair to see why she was still screaming about her hand, I saw she had her eyes shut and she was shaking her head like a drunk when you try to feed them water.

“Stop it.” I tapped her check in a light slap, and her eyes, full of tears, opened. “Look.” I picked up her hand and waved it in front of her. “Your hand is right here. Stop crying, and you might see it.”

She pulled her hand out of my grip and then held it in her other palm. She leaned closer to examine it, and for a brief, blissful moment, there was peace and quiet.

Until she screamed again and threw her hand off her lap, her knuckles knocking the wooden leg of the chair, and then she … melted, sliding off the chair like a piece of hot cheese on a burger.

Rolling around on the floor, she cried, “It’s not my hand. You chopped off my hand. I trusted you, and you chopped off my hand.”

I looked at my birth mother for help, but she shrugged, looking bewildered and amused. “Maybe it’s some kind of magical whiplash reaction from the breaking?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You checked the axe for instructions, so you know as much as I do.”

I sighed, dragging my hand through my hair as the witch on the floor rolled from side-to-side crying, “My hand. My hand.”

I pointed at her. “She can’t tell us anything like this. It’s like she’s drunk.”

Elizabeth brightened. “Water. Food. Maybe we can sober her up?” Before I could reply, she was heading to the kitchen, saying, “I’ll get something.”

At times like this, I wished I carried earplugs. June’s screeching cries made me want to tear my ears off and quit drinking.

No way I’ve ever embarrassed myself like this when drunk. No way.

Could I even get drunk now? Does having a dragon give me a better metabolism for processing alcohol?

Is that just something authors like to add to shifter stories so their readers can rest assured that their book boyfriends won’t leave for hours to go to the pub like their husbands do?

Come to think of it, Dralie was being really quiet. I didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t pipe up on normal day-to-day things. Not that a witch screaming about her lost hand after I chopped her bond is normal or day-to-day, but still…

“Dralie? You okay in there, bud?”

“Yes.” Dralie answered, and I could feel him stretch in my mind with a yawn. “Why do you ask? Am I required?”

“No. I’m out here interrogating a witch and being hilarious, and you’re not patting me on the back or anything, so I thought something happened to you.”

“Dragons do not spend so much time awake unless in danger. We prefer to stay around our hoard and nap. Since you are not in danger, I took a nap.”

“I’m kind of jealous.”

He didn’t reply for a moment, but when he did, he turned me to butter. “You are doing what is necessary to protect our family. I envy this also. But then it will be my turn to contribute, and I will be well rested to ensure I do my best for you all.”

“You are just the cutest, you know that? You’re going to ruin all my street cred.”

“Drakorians aren’t cute, Charlie. We are fierce.”

As I was chatting to my dragon, Elizabeth had returned with water and toast for her cousin, who shoved it into her mouth as she lay on the floor like a toddler. We waited as she chewed and swallowed, and the crazy eventually seemed to leave her eyes.

She looked at her hand and wiggled her fingers, then sat up, finished the toast, downed the glass of water, and sighed, closing her eyes and leaning against the pink wall.

Elizabeth and I exchanged a nervous glance. I half hoped she’d fallen asleep so we could continue the interrogation tomorrow. The smell of toast made my belly grumble, and I wanted my own meal, but sure enough, June opened her eyes and grimaced.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not sure what happened.”

I pressed my lips together to stop from laughing. Her clear embarrassment reminded me of just how fucking crazy that was.

I choked out, “Happens to the best of us.”

Elizabeth cut me a sharp look and then turned to her cousin, joining her on the floor and sitting cross-legged. “How do you feel? Did it work or…” She didn’t want to ask if June had lost her powers, but we both knew she was.

June opened her palm, and a little circle of light formed on her palm. “I still have my power. The vow broke, and even though it was excruciating and the aftereffects were horribly embarrassing, I want to thank you. I haven’t been able to voice my dissent despite feeling it, and it’s been difficult. I felt like my body wasn’t my own.”

“I can understand this has been hard for you.” Elizabeth patted June’s hand. “Tell us how this started. What did he write in the diaries that made you turn against us?”

“There were … lots of reasons. The unhappiness with our family didn’t just appear. I thought you’d understand after aborting your boy.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

I took my cue and waved. “Hello. We’ve not been properly introduced. Charlie. Boy. Not dead. Witch and dragon. Elizabeth’s son. Nice to meet you.”

June’s mouth dropped open, and the sound of a cartoon anchor should have accompanied it. Her eyes flicked from me to Elizabeth and back like she was looking for proof in our faces.

“I gave him away rather than abort him,” Elizabeth clarified.

“You are the other dragon,” June whispered, suddenly looking afraid.

“That’s more like it! That’s the fear we should see in a captive. Finally, taking me seriously.”

“It’s more likely she takes the threat of me seriously.”

“Don’t ruin this for me.”

“I have a dragon, yes,” I replied out loud, smiling.

Elizabeth shot me a glare. “You can stop looking so pleased with yourself.”

I shrugged. “It’s nice to feel special.”

Elizabeth drew June’s attention back as she said, “I’m … sorry.”

“What?”

“In some ways, you were right about our family and your reason for leaving. We were stagnating. We were pointless and so loyal to the traditions of our past, so fearful of misstep, that we forgot our purpose as powerful witches in society. You might be glad to know that I’ve changed that.”

“What do you mean? How have you changed anything?”

“I’m now the temporary witch representative. I’m working with the council to protect the witches who were involved in the ceremony under Deborah’s leadership, and I’m going to be contacting covens and making sure we are better educated on our past and abilities.”

June blinked like she had something stuck in her eye. “You—you’re head? You left your portal unprotected?”

“Not entirely. I was reminded that working with supernaturals will aid my family and the realms far more than I can help giving advice from my portal. I made a choice to support them.”

“That’s all we wanted … deep down. We just wanted the freedom to choose our life. We chose a way out.” June teared up.

Elizabeth’s voice softened. “You left the family, abandoned your portals, and followed a plan laid out in the diary of an ancestor we knew to be terrible … to be free?”

June knotted her fingers and looked into her lap as she explained. “We hated being chained to tradition for nothing. Everyone in the witching community thought we were dead, so for all the knowledge and power we had, there was no prestige and no change or growth or stretch. There were just endless, empty, blue portals that we watched.

“Fafnir didn’t sound terrible in his diaries. He sounded … clever, ambitious, knowledgeable. He started by addressing us as his distant daughters. He said he understood the dreariness of our existence. He explained that he wanted to make a name for himself. He wanted the portals to be busy again, wanted our family to be the guardians of the realm that we should have been, wanted us to have the power his sons did and had a plan to give it to us.

“We didn’t know the books were enchanted so anyone who looked at them couldn’t stop thinking about them, about Fafnir and his plight. We didn’t know it was a lie. We were so bored that we deluded ourselves into believing in his plans and goals. That it would be the best thing for us and the world, and so, eventually, we all turned our backs on you.”

It was a nice story, but I wasn’t buying it. I crossed my arms and asked, “How could raising a magic-eating dragon ever be good for the world?”

“His diaries focused on the portals being the gates to the interlinked dimensions and that our isolation had dulled the powers of the supernaturals on Earth. He theorized opening the portals for supernaturals and humans would usher in a new wave of power to the world.”

“So, he is after the portals?” I looked at Elizabeth. “Didn’t you say hunters have been gathering around them?”

“Yes.”

“He lied about his true intentions in the diaries. In person…” June rubbed her head. “Honestly, I’m not sure if he’s ever really expressed his real goals. It’s all clouded with misinformation. All I know are his actions. He gave the hunters a way to use technology to find natural portals and pointed them in the right direction.”

He’s already made the magic tech and given it to the hunters? That bastard. I was going to patent magic tech and open a shop.

But thinking back on it, I realized we’d already witnessed the hunters use the tech when they chased us in the woods. Only they were using it to find us, not a portal, so their device must search for all magic. Interesting.

“And the hunters?” I asked. “How did he explain that you’d be getting involved with them and working with them to destroy supernaturals? If my best friend was a wolf shifter, I’d be hesitant to follow someone who thought she was expendable.”

June’s jaw and fists clenched, and she hesitated before answering quietly. “There were many reasons. In the diaries, he explained how he’d set the hunters up to have the technology to find portals and therefore eventually use them. In person, he said he was using them to protect us as he regained his strength and worked to give us the power he promised.”

“The diaries were enchanted. The hunters have technology to hunt portals,” Elizabeth repeated, her jaw tightening with anger. “Did the diaries tell you what to do and when to do it? Collecting the demon fire…”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t instructional. There were suggestions on how to raise him. Ways to collect magic. The location for books on dark magic. Demon fire harvesting hadn’t been happening at the same scale since the war, but we decided it was the simplest way to gather power quickly.”

“So, you convinced Deborah and the entire witch community that they needed to summon and take demon fire again to prepare to raise Sigurd.” Elizabeth nodded to herself. “How did you know when it was time to raise him?”

“We didn’t. We just saw the disappearances and used that fear, offering the witches a solution. They wanted to be heroes. Fafnir didn’t set a time or date when he was to rise. He simply wanted to rise with the support of his family and when the hunters had evolved enough to cause a genuine threat to the supernaturals.”

We were all silent for a moment until I coughed to cover my stomach rumbling. There wasn’t a window in the garage witch room Winnie had created, but there was a clock, and it was food o’clock.

But first, I needed to know what Fafnir did to Dralie and if that was the reason my bond with Clawdia was strange or if there were side effects for Dralie and me.

“How did he get rid of his dragon? What did he do? Did he tell you why he did it?”

June sighed. “He was gifting it to us. For our loyalty. But nothing happened, and no one changed.”

They thought they could trade a dragon like a Pokémon card?

“I don’t understand why you wanted to be dragons in the first place, but I can promise you Fafnir can never help you in that regard. No dark magic in the world can force your shift because drakorian females don’t change until they find their soul mate. And soul mate finders don’t exist.”

June looked like her whole world was falling apart. “You—you’re lying.”

“I don’t care if you think the moon is cheese, June, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not.” She opened her mouth, but we needed to wrap this up. Yesterday. “Has he explained how he was going to give the rest of you dragons? Or even when? Or is it just a carrot he throws when he sees your wavering loyalty to him?”

“He said we’d go to Drakor and he’d take the dragons from inside them the same way he got rid of his,” she mumbled.

I could feel Dralie listening in and was furious on his behalf. Fafnir didn’t give a fuck about Dralie or the other dragon parts of the drakorian people. He didn’t consider them as victims in his rampage.

“And you didn’t question why he was trying to get rid of his dragon? You didn’t think it’s strange that he wanted to get rid of his dragon if it made him so powerful?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “He wanted to get a more powerful one to transform into. He thought his dragon was weak for someone as powerful as he is and wanted to make room, which is why he separated them and instead controlled him with dark magic.”

“You aren’t weak,” I reminded Dralie as I felt him shrink into himself.

With my teeth gritted, I asked, “How did he do it?”

“We used demon fire and magic he’d drained from other witches and supernaturals since he was risen. Part of the reason the island was raided was in case we needed more magic.”

She gasped, probably seeing the flash of yellow in my eyes as Dralie jumped to the forefront of my mind, both of us horrified to learn that Zaide could have been used to force Dralie out of Fafnir’s body.

Wisely, she hurried on. “He used dark magic to break the bond between them and then he attempted to shift forms… It looked like he was vibrating from one form to another until there was a terrible tear and screams and they were separate. We thought he might die, but the demon fire healed him.”

“And then?” I clenched my fists. “Something else must have happened. It was the same night that the hunters attacked and captured the witches on the island, under your instruction, right?”

She frowned. “How do you?—”

I growled the truth before I could think better of it. “Because that dragon is mine now, and I want to know what that bastard put him through.”

“Charlie…” Elizabeth breathed, her eyes wide and mouth open with shock.

Probably shouldn’t have said that.

“It’s not possible.” June shook her head. “He was weak, but he wrapped dark magic around the dragon to bring it fully under his control.”

“He broke our pact, which should have been impossible, but dragons can’t live without a bond. I immediately made a new one and escaped his control.”

“He controlled a mindless beast. An abomination. Not a drakorian.”

Elizabeth gave me a look that suggested we’d talk later and then returned to our captive. “Tell us about dark magic.”

June looked away from me, licking her lips nervously, before answering Elizabeth. “It’s simply magic outlawed due to the questionable ethics of using it. Witches who follow the Goddess vow to do no harm, but this kind of magic uses pain, creates suffering, and goes against many of the teachings of the Goddess.”

“It doesn’t turn your soul black or twist you into an evil person if you use it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “The most frightening thing about dark magic is that a seemingly good person can use it just as easily as someone with questionable morals. Magic is a tool, and a tool itself is neither good nor bad. Using it is neither good nor bad. The intent and outcome of actions governs morality.”

It made sense, but everyone is the hero in their own story. They might feel they are using dark magic for a greater good, and therefore, the pain and suffering it caused was negated. But that isn’t the case.

I could see why there would be a ban on magic like that.

“What are we up against with him?” I asked.

“Dark magic is strong. It can do frightening things, and he has been learning, practicing, and using it for a long time. He can control people, read minds, memories, and plant seeds of doubt or fear in someone’s heart. He can take magic from all living things and use it in his spells, potions, and tracking. He’s evolved new ways to work magic. Ways to speak with the dead. Cursed people, enchanted objects. Turned rain to fire and crops to dust.”

She shuddered, and a chill pricked the hairs on my arms. She makes him sound like a horseman of the apocalypse.

“There’s a reason he’s so confident. He’s been holding back while working with the hunters but can easily destroy all who stand in his way, and he’ll use the full extent of his knowledge and power to do it.”

We fell quiet, June’s warning and fear making the room feel cold and dark. Elizabeth and I exchanged a worried glance as I went through the list of things dark magic could do again in my mind.

Clawdia once described Deborah rifling through her mind to find memories of us to know what supernaturals she was with…

“Wait. Did you teach Deborah dark magic?” I asked June.

She admitted it with a nod. “Yes. She wasn’t aware we were going to raise Fafnir, but we gave her the same book we gave Karin.” June looked between us nervously and finally said, “I don’t know what you’ve planned, and it’s clear you have access to weapons Fafnir is unaware of, but you can’t underestimate him.”

“You don’t think we can take him?” I asked with a cocky smile.

A smile that died when I saw the grave expression on June’s face as she replied, “It would take a miracle.”