Page 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CJ

The mindless violence that overtook me as soon as I landed in the courtyard is ripping at me. I want to kill, to feast on the blood of all these creatures, but the second I saw Isolde in trouble, I pushed it back. I can’t teleport. There is something dampening the magic all around us, but heightening the aggression of monsters of all kinds.

“Issy!”

I kick, punch, and tear my way across the courtyard, but by the time I reach her, she is gone.

Vanished.

Flayed and taken by the three witches, cackling and fizzing with black magic. One of them is familiar. She has been hitting on me since I arrived, but she has never interested me.

“Where is she?” I roar, trying to break through the black magic that surrounds me. My eyes are locked on the witches who have taken my girl.

The lead witch sneers at me, her eyes filled with a triumphant malice. She shrugs. “Who cares. As long as she is far away from here.”

A primal, feral growl escapes my throat as I lunge toward them, but an invisible barrier stops me cold. I slam against it, snarling and clawing at the air, but it’s impenetrable. The witches seem just as surprised as I am that something is protecting them.

“What have you done?” I snarl. The ground beneath us trembles with the force of my rage, stones cracking under the pressure of my unleashed power. Around us, the battle still rages, creatures tearing at each other with mindless fury, but all I can focus on is the empty space where Isolde stood moments ago.

“We didn’t do anything,” the lead witch protests, her confidence wavering as she looks around frantically. “We didn’t send her anywhere!”

Her nervousness and the fear in her eyes tell me she is telling the truth.

I need to think. I need to think and then act. Reacting isn’t going to get me anywhere. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, taking these few precious seconds to centre myself, to clear my brain from the remainder of the battle fog and to get myself into a position to help Isolde. When I open my eyes, I extend my claws and with a deliberate motion, rip through the barrier that is stopping me from getting to these bitches. They may not know anything about where Isolde went, but they cornered her and tortured her.

They will pay.

I slice through the first witch’s throat before she can even scream. Her blood sprays across the ancient stones as she collapses, eyes wide with shock. The other two stumble backwards, their earlier confidence evaporating. But they can’t get away from me or my wrath. With calm control, I reach for the second witch, snap her neck with a sharp twist, and let her body fall to the stones. The remaining witch crawls backwards across the blood-slicked stones, her eyes wide with terror as she stares up at me. “Please,” she whimpers, “I don’t know where she went. I swear on my coven’s blood, we didn’t send her anywhere!”

I crouch down beside her, my claws extending further, gleaming with the blood of her witch sisters. “But you branded her, didn’t you?” I say quietly, my voice deadly calm despite the rage burning through my veins. “You tortured her. You insulted her. You hurt her. Do you know what I do to creatures who hurt my girl?”

She glances at the two dead witches.

With a swift motion, I crush her windpipe and keep squeezing until her head pops off her neck. I drop it as her body falls beside her companions. Their blood pools together on the ancient stones, mixing with the carnage from the larger battle still raging around us.

But none of that matters. Isolde is gone, taken by forces I don’t understand, and every second I waste here is another second she’s in danger. Is this The Collectors or someone else? Every honed, trained instinct I have is telling me this is bigger than we thought.

“CJ!” Cassiel’s voice cuts through the chaos as he lands beside me.

“Finally,” I growl and then see William dart across the courtyard towards us. “They took her. Isolde’s gone.”

William’s spectral form flickers with rage, his red eyes blazing brighter than I’ve ever seen them. “Where?”

“I don’t know. The witches were torturing her, then she just vanished. Black magic.” I gesture to the three corpses at my feet. “They said they didn’t take her.”

“And you believed them?” William snarls.

“I killed them, so yeah, I believed them. They were shocked that she vanished.”

Cassiel’s wings manifest fully, silver eyes scanning the courtyard with supernatural intensity. “The battle is still raging, but it’s artificial. Someone orchestrated this chaos to mask Isolde’s abduction.”

Isaac appears through the melee, blood streaming from a gash across his forehead. “Where’s my sister?” he demands, his offensive magic crackling around his fists like a living flame.

“Gone,” I tell him grimly. “Taken during the fight.”

Isaac’s magic explodes outward in a wave of destructive force, sending nearby combatants flying. “No! I promised to protect her!”

“We all did,” Cassiel says, his voice tight with self-recrimination. “And we failed.”

“The Collectors,” William hisses, his form solidifying with fury. “They used the witches as a distraction while they took her.”

“I don’t think so,” I say slowly. “I think this is bigger than them.”

“Bigger how?” Cassiel asks, but in that clinical way that usually irritates me. Now I need it. I need him to remain calm and help me figure this out. William is seething and will be no help in his ghost form, and Issac has crumbled under the weight that his sister has been abducted.

I scan the courtyard, my mind cutting through the chaos. “Look around. The professors are standing at the corners, taking notes. The timing of this massive brawl. The way the aggression magic affected everyone except Isolde. This is theatrical, not a precise strike aimed solely at Isolde. It’s not them.”

“Someone inside the academy orchestrated this,” William says .

“But who?” Cassiel asks. “And why take her now?”

“Because she’s getting too powerful,” I say. “Her defensive magic has been evolving rapidly. Someone wanted her gone before she became too dangerous to contain.”

I nod grimly. “The question is whether they’re working with The Collectors or have their own agenda.”

“Does it matter?” William snarls. “We need to find her. Now.”

“It matters because it determines how we get her back,” I reply, forcing myself to think strategically despite every instinct screaming at me to tear apart everything in sight until I find her. “This isn’t The Collectors, I know it in my gut.”

“You’ll forgive me for not trusting your gut,” William growls.

“Trust whatever you want, but I’m right,” I snap back at William. “The Collectors would have taken her cleanly, surgically. This was messy, public, designed to send a message.”

“A message for us,” Cassiel says. “This was a separation technique.”

“Precisely,” I say. “They wanted her alone. The witch-bitches got to her first for a totally different reason. The timing was unfortunate, but also planned. They took Isolde at a specific moment.”

The battle around us winds down as whatever spell triggered the mass violence fades. Students and creatures stagger apart, looking dazed and confused, many sporting injuries they don’t remember receiving. Many dead. The professors are no longer anywhere to be seen.

“Blackridge,” William hisses, his spectral form flickering with renewed fury. “Where the fuck was Blackridge during all this?”

That’s the question that’s been nagging at me. The Headmaster is nowhere to be seen during the worst violence SilverGate has witnessed in decades. “Why?”

“Fucking why, indeed,” he replies, and we go silent, trying to figure this out before it’s too late.