Page 77 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)
SEVENTY-SEVEN
T ime froze in the underground chamber as Artemis stared into Elias Nightshade’s eyes—one blood-red, the other fae-gold. Her heart hammered against her ribs while her mind frantically cataloged options, escape routes, possibilities.
“What will it be, cousin?” The Collector’s voice carried a silky confidence. “Surrender it willingly, or shall I drain these poor captives one by one while you watch?”
Across the chamber, her friends struggled against their magical prison. Thora’s sabertooth claws scraped against the shimmering barrier, leaving faint silver marks that healed themselves almost instantly. Artair’s massive bear-shifter shoulders slammed repeatedly into the wall, the impact sending ripples through the magical construct without breaking it. Rust, ever the strategic lion, circled the perimeter, golden eyes searching for structural weaknesses.
Kalyna’s fox magic crackled in dancing red sparks around her fingertips as she prodded the barrier. Behind another barrier, Bartek paced restlessly in his tiger form. Massive paws padded silently across stone, muscles bunching beneath striped fur as amber eyes locked onto Artemis. The connection between them stretched taut, golden light undulating where it passed through the magical field.
Artemis’s gaze drifted to the captives in their cages. Viridian Nightbourne—gaunt from magical drain, his aristocratic features reduced to hollow shadows—pressed his face against the bars. His vampire fangs had partially extended from stress, eyes sunken and desperate. Beside him, a young werewolf boy curled in on himself, barely conscious. An elderly witch sat ramrod straight despite her obvious exhaustion, dignity unbroken. What appeared to be a sylph—wispy and translucent around the edges—hovered near the cage door, too weak to maintain solid form.
The weight of their suffering pressed on Artemis’s conscience. If she refused The Collector’s demand, these innocent people would pay the price.
Soul-tethers can be amplified or severed during astronomical alignments. The same cosmic power that enables breaking can enhance binding, if channeled with proper intent.
The eclipse was minutes away from totality.
Artemis took a single step forward, chin lifted. The golden tether trailing from her midsection brightened in response.
“If I surrender willingly,” she asked, voice steadier than she felt, “you’ll release all the captives? Unharmed?”
“Artemis, no!” Bartek’s anguished voice emerged from his tiger form, human enough to speak but wild enough to send dust cascading from the ancient ceiling.
His amber eyes widened fractionally, understanding dawning in their depths. A nearly imperceptible nod confirmed he’d received her message.
The Collector’s lips curved into a smile that never reached his mismatched eyes. “Of course. I have no quarrel with them once I have what I want. They’ve served their purpose as... research subjects.”
Artemis shuddered at his casual disregard for suffering. She let a single tear track down her cheek—genuine emotion, but not for the reason he assumed.
“Very well,” she said, shoulders squared. “I accept your terms.”
“Excellent.” The Collector extended a pale hand toward the intricate ritual circle carved into the stone floor. “Step into the circle, cousin. Your tiger remains contained until the transfer completes.”
As she moved toward the circle, her feet making no sound on the ancient stone, Artemis focused. Rather than beginning to release it as The Collector expected, she channeled more energy into the connection, visualizing the tether growing stronger, brighter, more resilient.
Mother’s journal said these connections respond to intent during an eclipse , she thought, hoping Bartek could understand through their bond. If we amplify instead of sever...
The worn stone of the ritual circle felt looked well-worn. Nearby, the stolen recipe book lay open on an obsidian pedestal, pages rustling in a magical breeze that shouldn’t exist underground. The Collector’s complex apparatus surrounded the circle—crystals, silver bowls filled with strange liquids, bones of creatures Artemis couldn’t identify.
“Now,” The Collector instructed, gesturing to two hooded assistants who approached with ceremonial daggers, “remain still while my associates prepare the containment vessels.”
Behind her, renewed struggle erupted as someone—likely Thora with her sabertooth strength—struck a particularly forceful blow against the barrier. The magical field rippled, momentarily thinning before stabilizing again.
“Problems with your prison?” Artemis asked, deliberately drawing The Collector’s attention.
His glamoured features tightened with annoyance. “Nothing that concerns you.”
As he turned to examine the fluctuating barrier, Artemis caught movement in her peripheral vision—something impossible. Two tiny shapes crawled through a drainage channel near the floor, a passage barely large enough for their small bodies.
Lily and Jade. The twins.
Horror and hope battled in Artemis’s chest. The girls should be safely at the pride house with babysitters, not here in this dangerous chamber. Yet their unexpected presence opened possibilities. Movement behind the magical barrier caught her eye—Mimi had spotted her daughters and was frantically gesturing something to Kalyna, who nodded with sudden understanding.
Artemis needed to keep The Collector distracted.
“Before we begin,” she called out, “I want to know why. Why target my family for generations? Why the bakery specifically?”
The Collector turned back, irritation warring with ego. Villains, Artemis had noticed, rarely resisted opportunities to monologue.
“Why?” His voice dripped with ancient bitterness. “Because the Blu family stole what should have been mine.”
“My family stole nothing,” Artemis countered, watching from her peripheral vision as the twins emerged from the tunnel. Each clutched a juice box—grape for Lily, apple for Jade—standard pride house snacks. Their golden-brown eyes reflected the magical light as they crept along the wall, unnoticed by the guards.
“Your precious bloodline,” The Collector hissed, glamour slipping to reveal features that eerily mirrored her mother’s, “hoarded potential for generations through selective breeding. When my great-grandmother manifested a tether with her vampire lover, your ancestors forcibly severed it rather than allow ‘impure’ blood to strengthen the line.”
His voice cracked with pain so old it had calcified into hatred. “They destroyed her—left her a hollow shell who withered away from the loss while they continued their precious magical dynasty.”
Behind the barrier, something extraordinary happened. Mimi—sweet, bubbly Mimi who baked cookies and kissed scraped knees—began to shift. Not a full tiger transformation, but a partial one that emphasized certain... attributes. Her curves became more pronounced as tiger stripes rippled beneath her skin in hypnotic patterns. She tossed her head, letting out a soft growl that sounded distinctly like a mating call.
Kalyna sidled up next to her, eyes dancing with understanding. Mimi whispered with a wink.
Kalyna summoned her fox magic, creating tiny, dancing illusions around Mimi that enhanced her display—subtle sparkles that followed her movements and made her tiger stripes seem to glow and pulse.
The effect on the male guards was immediate. Their heads swiveled toward the sound and sight, an instinctive response they couldn’t control. Even The Collector’s assistants looked momentarily distracted.
While the guards’ attention diverted, Thora and Kalyna moved in perfect synchronization toward the weakest point in the barrier—fox magic and sabertooth strength complementing each other.