Page 7

VIOLET

T here wasn’t an easy way to put it. I’d made a mistake.

That’s what I kept telling myself as I restlessly rolled from side to side of the bed, the room too empty and quiet for my own good—my thoughts echoed with surprising clarity in the silence, refusing to let me rest. A hypocrite and a liar, that’s exactly what I was. A clown, too. I’d told myself—and them—I needed time and space to figure things out, to figure myself out; I’d said that keeping my distance for a while would do us nothing but good. I remembered my determination to state my intentions with them, and my unwillingness to bend and give in. Yet here I was, devastated, legs still weak as hell, head heavy with images that belonged to porn websites. Full of shame and regret, but also a desire to do it again and again and again, repeatedly, until I was entirely spent and consumed.

“No” I whispered to myself, before pressing a pillow on my face. “God, I’m such an idiot!” My voice came out muffled, warped by the fabric. “Correction. I’m such a horny idiot. Which is, somehow, even worse.”

It was their fault. They managed to turn me on by simply standing in my proximity, and masturbating in the quiet dark of my room at night wasn't cutting it anymore. Obviously. I wanted them, craved them with such intensity it was hard to control my impulses, and earlier, I'd clearly failed. I'd failed big time. Worst of all, a part of me refused to repent—if anything, it demanded more.

I let out a long sigh. More than five hours had passed, and nothing—not the shift at the bookstore, not the hour-long video call with Griffin, not the skipped dinner in favor of a long self-pleasuring session—had been able to calm me down. My mind, body, and heart were stuck in that room, surrounded by my boys, their hands and mouths all over me. Echoes of their words resonated in the back of my head, and I could still feel the phantom of their touch grazing my skin. Was I going insane? Quite frankly, yes.

I rolled onto my stomach, letting my face sink into the pillow, so my frustrated scream wouldn't be as loud. I knew I'd made a mistake. Why did I want to do it again, then?

A faint buzzing sound broke the silence. Without lifting my head, I blindly reached out, fumbling across the sheets for my phone. It was a text message from my brother, short enough that I was able to read it all through the preview on the notification bar.

I need you to come rn

I blinked. The text didn’t change into something more understandable, though. He needed me to come right now ? When I was six hours away from him? As I was unlocking my phone, heart thrumming in my chest, another message came through.

pls Violet its very urgent

My heartbeat went wild. Urgent? What did he mean? With trembling fingers, I selected his contact and started a video call. I needed to see him, to make sure for myself he was alive and well and—

The call got interrupted before it could even start ringing, and two messages followed before I could try again.

dont call! cant answer rn

just come

What did he mean he couldn't answer? Was he in trouble? And what kind of trouble? The dread in my stomach and chest grew so heavy I couldn't see straight anymore, and for a moment, the reality around me faltered—melted like ice cream, almost. One blink and all was back to normal, apart from my pounding heart and sweaty hands. Oh, and my brother being in trouble, of course.

Resisting the urge to video call him again, I forced my fingers to type an answer.

Are you okay? What’s going on?

Griffin replied within seconds.

it’s easier if I tell you in person, just come

I pushed back the wave of fear and irritation that surged from deep inside, taking a moment to reflect and calm down. He was willing to wait the six hours—down to four and a half if I pretended speed limits weren’t a thing—so that meant it wasn’t a life-threatening situation. Right?

I took a deep breath before typing my response.

It’ll take me no less than 5-6 hours to get there, G. I don’t want to drive that long while scared shitless that something horrible might be happening to you.

I’m coming, okay? I’ll always come for you. Just tell me what’s going on.

Five seconds. Ten. Forty. One minute. My phone remained silent. I checked my connection, but all seemed fine—Griffin had simply stopped answering.

My heart exploded at the realization. Something had happened to him, something potentially atrocious, and I wasn’t there to protect him. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why had I wasted time asking instead of acting?

I threw on some sneakers, grabbed the car keys from the small desk under the window, and bolted out of the room. The hallways were empty and silent, a vague, far reminder curfew had started over an hour earlier. I couldn't care less. My brother was in danger, no matter how fast I moved, I couldn't reach him soon enough. All the horrible scenarios that might have been unfolding at that very moment blurred my senses, making reality feel like an evanescent cloud of nothingness, shifting and distorting as I stumbled through.

“ Underground level. ”

The sudden metallic voice startled me enough to come back to my senses. I’d somehow made it to the Coven’s underground car park, the stinging cold air making me feel real and present for the first time since Griffin had texted me.

The elevator doors started closing as soon as I stepped out, devouring inch by inch the patch of light stretched across the concrete floor. After that, darkness took over, broken only by the weak, buzzing neon lamps lining the ceiling.

Rows and rows of parked cars stretched in the distance, their fronts looking like snouts of sleeping predators, watching me pass by. A knot of unease grew heavy at the base of my throat. It was so dark, so eerily quiet, my steps echoing as loud as bombs and my breaths sounding like hisses.

Maybe I was just being paranoid, but a part of me feared I wasn’t alone.

All is well , I told myself as I fished the phone out of my pocket. Stay calm. Breathe.

Talking myself down didn't really help, but it's not like I had much of an alternative. Griffin still hadn't responded. I tried video calling again, but it went straight to voicemail—the sound of it so disturbed and screeching that I had to hang up immediately. I briefly wondered why he had his voicemail service on since his phone wasn’t the kind that provided automatically generated transcripts of voice messages, but I didn’t dwell too much on it: I’d just realized I had to tell my boys where I was going. They’d freak out if they found my room empty, the next morning.

I naturally picked the lesser evil: Quinn. He wouldn’t get mad at me. I hoped.

Hey, something came up with my brother, I need to go see him now. I’ll let you know when I get there. Don’t be mad, it’s just quicker this way. I’ll be safe.

I could’ve worded it better, but this would have to do. I hit send. Secretly, deep down, I wished my boys were with me; wished that for once in my life I didn’t have to do this on my own; wished I could’ve taken the time to ask them to come with me because the truth was, I really needed them. But all had happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, I’d instinctively acted the way I’d always had: alone. It wasn’t easy to subvert a tendency it had taken me years to build.

My truck came into view. It was parked in a rather desolate area—the only other car was a sedan so dusty I couldn’t even tell its color.

As I picked up my pace, keys dangling from my index finger, that gnawing feeling struck again. I wasn’t alone. That was what my hammering heart, sweaty hands, and knotted stomach were trying to tell me: that I wasn’t alone. That someone, something , was keeping a close eye on me, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and…

“Don’t be ridiculous” I hissed at myself. “You’re just scaring yourself. Stop it right now.”

But I couldn’t. The air was thick, heavy, and charged with something that reminded me of electricity—of danger.

Stop it , I told myself. You’re impressionable after everything that happened to you, which is understandable, but right now, you’re safe.

"Safe" I repeated out loud, softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Not loud enough to cover a sudden, unnervingly close whoosh that—

The hit came out of nowhere. Pain exploded from the back of my head, blinding, all-encompassing, stripping away all sense of time and space for what felt like ages. Fiery hot, it burned everything I knew and replaced it, making me forget for an endless second that the world wasn’t made of just pain.

When I started grasping reality again, I was on my hands and knees, the concrete floor scratching my palms. Everything was blurry, images and sounds and thoughts. The only thing clear was a word, or rather, a question: why? And then, a few moments later: who?

I couldn’t move without being engulfed by throbbing pain, so intense it seemed like I could hear it— thump , thump , thump , a rhythmic pulsation that matched the painful concentric waves coming directly from the epicenter, my head.

Thump , thump , thump .

I still tried to move, though: I turned my head as much as I could, ignoring the acute sting at the base of my skull.

Thump , thump , thump .

The noise wasn’t just in my head: it wasn’t coming from my pain. It belonged to the steps of the person walking around me, slow, steady, confident. They wore boots, skinny jeans, and a dark, oversized crewneck, the contrast with the long, hot red locks of hair so striking it was almost painful to watch. A baseball bat, dangling from long, lazy fingers, completed the look.

I knew who it was right away despite my blurry vision. Fia.

“What did you do?” I gasped, my voice slurry and distorted. “Fia?”

"You aren't entirely stupid, then." She stopped right before me, putting down her left foot with a loud stomp. "That's a relief. I'd feel a little bad killing off someone so helpless. Like a newborn puppy, is that right?"

Her words blurred into nothing, all except two: killing off. "What?" I blinked several times, trying to push aside the blurriness polluting my sight. "What did you say?"

“Forget it. You are helpless.” She raised the bat, letting the wider end plop onto her free palm. “I lied earlier. I don’t feel bad in the slightest.”

When I realized she was going to hit me with the bat, my instincts took over. In a second, a ball of bluish light swelled all around me, small, unsteady, yet effective: when the bat hit, it flew back against a concrete column with such force I felt the vibrations in my bones.

It hit me a moment later, the shock so deep and sudden that I forgot about the pain for a split second. I'd used my powers. I'd used my powers to protect myself. And while I knew my shield was wobbly and weak, bending under the weight of invisible forces, it was there. It was protecting me. I searched deep inside for a glimpse of what was going on, and immediately found my magic; it had never felt more unstable than that. It grew and deflated and flickered like a dying lightbulb, affecting the intensity of the energy field. I tried grasping the loose threads of the net to make it steadier, to get some control over it, but I couldn't. The more I focused on it, the more it lost solidity. It was like the first few times I'd ever used magic: I couldn't manipulate it, no matter how hard I tried. I could only watch as it decided how things were going to unfold. As it decided my fate.

The pain was still excruciating, but I could clearly see Fia’s expression: there was fury, shock, and the smallest hint of fear in her eyes. So small, in fact, it disappeared almost immediately.

“It’s pointless, you know” she snapped, still half-turned to me as she bolted across the empty lots to retrieve the bat. The red locks swayed behind her back like tongues of flame. “That joke of a protective field won’t last. You can’t even control it.”

True, but she wasn’t certain. What she’d said was nothing more than a lucky guess. “What are you even doing?”

“What needs to be done.” She grabbed the bat and walked back toward me, the stomps of her boots echoing painfully in my head. “Nothing personal. Actually, it is a little personal." She raised the bat and let it rest on her shoulder, making it bounce slightly. "Before you came into the picture, Quinn was in love with me. Me! He had taste and common sense before you appeared and ruined it all.”

A few possible answers came to mind, but years of withstanding abuse had taught me a crucial lesson: keeping quiet was always the best choice. Especially when the only things I wanted to say were petty and provocative.

“Of course, it is not the reason we’re here today in these circumstances” she went on, circling my energy field with wide steps. “You just have something that I really want.”

Quinn? , I naively thought, before the actual answer flashed through my mind. The Nucleus power. Of course. And then another realization hit, possibly even harder than the first one.

“That’s what Zane was trying to say” I stammered, blinking rapidly. My own talking hurt me to the point I feared my head was going to explode, but I paid it no mind. “He wasn’t acting alone. But he was—the serum. He couldn’t lie. How—”

"He told the truth" Fia interrupted me, her voice growing louder, a hint of annoyance in it. "His truth. Now, his truth doesn't involve mine, not when he's not directly asked about it."

A loophole. A loophole I didn't necessarily understand, not when my head was throbbing in pain, but a loophole nonetheless. Everything was starting to make sense, falling into place, unfolding right before my eyes: what had happened at the police station with the chief—of course he had tried to blame me, he was Fia's father; all of Fia's weird attempts at being my friend; the glimpse of red I'd seen after almost falling to my death; her convenient presence at the pool, right after I'd almost died; the night of the party; the unmistakable vanilla scent that I'd smelled in more than one occasion. And finally, the conversation I'd overheard at the library. It was her; of course it was. I'd been so blind I felt the stupidest fuck in the entire universe. I didn't even like her! How could I not see it?

“What an idiot” she went on, oblivious to the earthquake happening in my head. All that new information was making my pain worse. “He thought he could do it on his own. That subhuman!” Fia let out a cold, calculated cackle. “Ha. He signed his surrender the moment he turned his back to me. I was nice to him, you know?” she explained, gesturing a lot with the hand that wasn’t holding the bat. “I would’ve granted him a high position at the Coven, had he helped me become the Nucleus of Alpha Team. And help is a generous choice of word, let me be clear.”

"Why?" I asked, driven more by panic than real interest. I could feel the energetic field getting thinner; tiny holes were starting to form all over its surface. Calling to my magic was proving to be pointless: I couldn't control it. The field was deteriorating right before my eyes, and I could do nothing to stop it. God! This was far worse than not being able to summon my powers to protect myself at all. It felt like a cruel joke, and I was the punchline.

"Because he was utterly useless" Fia explained, not even stopping to look at me. She seemed to be enjoying her late-night stroll in the parking lot. "He kept an eye on you. Cast some clumsy spells to hide the traces of my magic. Unsuccessfully, of course... He was good for nothing, just like his brother." My first thought was Nicholas, and another wave of rage ignited within me. But then, I realized she was referring to Martin, Zane's biological brother.

I let out a breath. I was trying to move as little as possible, although I was aware movement didn’t affect the field. “That’s why you killed him?”

I kept Fia under my focus but let my eyes scan the surroundings, trying to find a way out. Or, at least, stall her long enough to gain an advantage.

Fia finally seemed to remember she wasn’t alone; that, after all, she wasn’t giving her little speech to the parked cars and massive concrete pillars, but to me. “They wouldn’t let me train to become a Nucleus. Sure, I wasn’t born one, but it’s a detail. Multiple common witches became Nuclei upon a shortage of their kind.” She clicked her tongue, staring at me from above. “It’s a known fact” she articulated, probably sensing some disbelief on my part. “For heaven’s sake, you’re a common witch yourself.”

“It was an accident” I mumbled, painfully aware of the shield slipping away more and more. I could almost feel cold drafts penetrating through the holes. “It happened. Nobody decided to put me in this position.”

I felt like a moth caught in a spider’s web—trapped, hunted, my fate sealed with no way out.

“Exactly” she agreed, her tone suddenly gleeful. “An accident. That Nucleus magic should’ve never ended up in you. It was never yours to begin with.”

“It was Martin’s” I weakly pointed out. I needed help. The field was disintegrating despite my desperate attempts at keeping it together, my head hurt to the point I couldn’t see straight—there was no way I’d be able to defend myself in that situation. Fia was going to kill me, but I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die . “You killed him, and you tried to blame it on me. Your father, he… he tried forcing me to confess a crime I didn’t commit.”

She dismissed me with a quick hand movement, going back to her wide steps. "It wasn't personal, dummy. None of this would've happened if that absolute caveman hadn't escaped." She approached the field with wide steps, bending over to look me in the eye. "Why did he have to run off?" She looked at me with expectant eyes, like she was whole-heartedly waiting for an answer on my part. "He was already half-dead. You have to be a particular type of stupid to think running is going to do you any good. Right?" She stared at me with that same expression for a few seconds, then clicked her tongue and stood straight, giving me her back. I couldn't tell if she was still referring to Martin or if it was a remark for me. I began to understand how he must have felt. I couldn't let the same thing happen to me.

"Anyhow. It was never personal, Vi. I'm a girl's girl!" She twirled around, bat resting on her shoulder and a hand over her heart. "But I couldn't go to jail. Daddy would never let me, and so…" She huffed out a long breath, shrugging. "Wrong place, wrong time. Then things got a little out of hand, I'll admit it. In my defense, it was mostly Zane's fault."

I was only half listening. I didn't care about the reasons or explanations: the only thing that mattered was getting out of the situation alive. And for that, I feared I needed my boys. I thought I could handle this on my own, at least this time, but my powers had left me again. I was completely defenseless.

“You’ll get caught, Fia” I said, not because I was trying to convince her to do the right thing, but only because I needed her to keep talking. That was the only thing that could help me. Not that it was hard: her self-absorption was doing most of the work for me. “They’ll find traces of your magic on me. And when you mysteriously end up with my Nucleus power, it won’t be hard for them to piece everything together.”

She shook her index finger no, walking back and forth excitedly. "No, no . I’ve tried and failed with magic. My powers…” She vehemently shook her head. “Zane can’t clean up my traces anymore, so I’ll just stick with the old, plain mortal ways. Thinking of it, it’s what got me the most results.” A manic smile twisted her plump lips. “I stabbed Martin in the neck and he’s dead, isn’t he?”

I swallowed. The pounding, blinding pain in my head and the weight of knowing my only protection was dissolving were making it hard for me to stay present. I still knew what needed to be done, though. "How are you going to justify the Nucleus power transferring to you? We both know it means being present at the time of death. They will put the clues together. And even if they don't, you'll still be questioned under the truth serum."

She laughed. She laughed and turned her back to me, which was exactly what I needed: a moment of distraction. “No, silly. It will be ruled a hate crime by those mortal extremists, just like it happened with Martin.”

As she spoke, I unlocked my phone with trembling hands and thanked the stars when I realized I’d never closed Quinn’s chat.

Need help

Coven’s underground parking lot

After making sure the texts had gone through, I hid the phone under my bent knees, on the cold ground. Fia hadn’t noticed anything.

“The police will deal with it” she went on. “And daddy is still the chief, so…” She turned to me with a little twirl, a wide smile on her lips. “No jail time for me.”

“You used magic” I said, holding onto everything I could to keep her talking. I didn’t know if Quinn had read or even received the message, but I was clinging to the hope he had, and that my boys were coming to help me. “You made an illusion. The texts from my brother, right?”

Her smile grew bigger. "A genius way of getting you out of here, you'll have to admit. You're so obsessed with that useless brother" she purred, waving her long fingers in a dismissive flick. "No. It was a small illusion, it barely left a trace. We'll be fine. I mean, I'll be fine." Something in her eyes glinted with a manufactured sadness. "You'll be underground. Dead." Her voice dipped into something mocking, something that slithered beneath my skin like oil. The way she called Griffin made my teeth clench so hard that my jaw ached. I had to fight the overwhelming urge to drive my fist into her face, over and over, until she was as lifeless as she wanted me to be.

Rage coiled inside me, searing, suffocating, demanding release. But I couldn’t afford to let it take hold—not now. I had to stick to the plan: keep her distracted, swallow the fire, wait for the right moment to escape.

“Better than underground and alive” I uttered to myself, too out of it to realize how stupid it was to voice my thoughts.

Fia didn't seem to hear, or maybe she simply didn't care. She was too caught up in her little perfect plan to really pay attention to me. "I will be the perfect Nucleus. The glue of Alpha Team. Quinn will finally realize how perfect we are together, and that he's madly in love with me, and…" She cleared her throat, redness blooming on her cheeks. "That doesn't concern you. Point is, I have to do this, Vi." She placed a hand on her chest. "My powers aren't big enough to make the cut for one of the lesser Teams, let alone Alpha Team. What will happen to me as soon as I'm done with my exams? My biggest expectation is an accountant position here at the Coven. Well paid, of course, but I don't care for that." Ambition gleamed so bright in her gaze that she probably didn't even see me anymore. "I want the action. The thrill. The glory."

I didn't know what kind of glory she thought awaited her, since most of the time missions were limited to purging leech infestations, but I kept my mouth shut.

She glared at her wristwatch. “How long do you think it will take?”

“What?”

“For the barrier to… you know.” She wiggled her fingers. “Fizzle out. It’s kind of cold down here. Humid, too.”

Had I not been so in pain, so shocked, and scared, I might have laughed. "It won't fizzle out . We’ll be here until morning, and then… then what?”

“It will.” She spoke matter-of-factly. Condescendingly, too. “I’ve observed you, Vi. I know you’ve become decent at controlling your powers, but not when it comes to protecting yourself.” She clicked her tongue, slowly shaking her head as she crouched down to be at my level. Like she was talking to a little kid. “Maybe it’s because deep down, you don’t really believe you deserve to be protected. It’s understandable. Mommy and daddy made you think you were worthless, isn’t that right? They beat up your body, mind, and spirit.” She tilted her head to the side. “That’s tough.”

"It won't fizzle out" I repeated, doing my best to ignore words that, on a deeper level, I knew to be true; that hurt more than I'd like to admit, but she didn't have to know.

"Don't be mad, silly. To be fair, I wasn't expecting at all a protective barrier. Nor did I expect it to keep up all this time." Fia reached forward with her hand and immediately pulled it back, rubbing her fingertips together. "Kudos to you. But, come on, we both know it was a random case of good luck." She got back up, using the bat as leverage. "You have no control over it. It's a lot weaker than it was before. It barely burned my fingers." A false look of compassion blossomed on her face. "Just let it go, Vi. I promise I will make it quick and painless!"

Say that to my head.

Joke's on her, anyway. Just like I lacked the ability to strengthen the field, I also lacked the control necessary to release it. I could do nothing apart from staring at the disaster happening right in front of me.

“Besides, it’s for the best” she went on, not even waiting for me to answer. “Do you know what they’re starting to call you? Alpha Team’s cum bucket.” She pretended to shiver. “Atrocious. Once you’re dead, I’ll paint you like a selfless heroine who sacrificed herself to save me, the lucky survivor of a brutal massacre. We’ll both be legends, how does that sound?”

It sounded crazy and delusional, but again, I did my best not to say it out loud. “Your plan is weak” I said instead, which truthfully wasn’t much better in terms of not making her angrier. “And I already told you. The field isn’t going anywhere.”

Of course, the field decided it was just the perfect moment to destroy itself. Did my magic have a weird sense of humor? A tiny part of me hoped she wouldn’t notice. Though the energy field had a faint bluish tint, it was mostly transparent. But I wasn’t that lucky. I didn’t have such luck. Fia realized almost immediately what had happened, and glee—this time genuine—spread across her face. “Finally. Goodbye, Violet!”

I pushed myself back one second before the bat hit the patch of concrete I’d been sitting on. The echoing noise was a sharp knife twisting inside my brain, the pain so bad my eyes filled with tears. Fia swung again, her figure distorted through the haze of pain. This time, I wasn’t as quick: the bat hit my left thigh, tearing a yell from my throat.

"See what you made me do?" she taunted, her voice light, almost amused, as she stalked toward me "You're making this so much harder than it needs to be" she continued, as I dragged my heavy, hurting body away from her. "I don't want to hurt you. I even decided to recreate the signs of torture post-mortem! This doesn't have to be painful, Violet" she said, almost reassuringly. "One hit and you're gone. You're making this unnecessarily hard for yourself."

“And for you, too” I muttered, before kicking her hard in one of her knees. She squealed and fell back, the noise nightmarish for my head, but I didn’t let it stop me: I rose to my feet, wobbly, unstable, and started making my way back toward the elevator. I just needed to make my way up to any floor—even if she used the stairs to come after me, she’d take twice the time, and that would be enough for me to think about what to do.

“You bitch” she screeched. “I was trying to be nice and this is how you repay me? Mommy and daddy didn’t beat you up enough, I’ll tell you that. Stupid whore! Come back here!”

Her words flew past me, unheard. All I could focus on was moving forward, one foot in front of the other, trying to maintain a balance that seemed long gone. I just had to get to the elevator. Then I’d be safe.

I didn’t hear Fia coming, but I felt her—the sharp, jarring crack of metal against my back. All oxygen was forced out of my lungs, and I was left empty and breathless for what felt like an eternity.

“See?” she huffed, as I stumbled forward in the semidarkness. “It’s your fault. This should’ve never happened, but of course, you had to ruin everything. Bitch.”

Among the pounding pain in my body, the wild thunder of my heartbeat, and the fog of horrific thoughts polluting my head, I experienced a split second of absolute clarity. And in that lucidity, allowing me to see things exactly for what they were, I felt rage. Rage . In its purest form. Rage for the way that sicko was talking to me. Rage for falling into her trap once again. Rage for feeling underestimated, belittled, mocked. Rage for being always, always, always the one who had to lower her head, to shrink, to avoid upsetting others because then she’d have to pay the consequences.

I was tired. God, I was tired. It was the umpteenth time in a few weeks someone tried to kill me—at that point, I'd even lost count—and I couldn't deal with it anymore. Maybe Fia was partly right; maybe I couldn't access my powers when it came to protecting myself because, deep down, I thought I wasn't worthy, but magic wasn't the only form of defense I knew.

I turned around and closed the distance between me and her in just a bunch of long, heavy steps, the anger fueling me enough to make the pain take a back seat. I should have fought back from the start, but I was too startled, too wounded to think clearly. This time, I was quicker than her: following my rawest instincts, I grabbed a fistful of her shiny, red locks and pulled, while I snatched the bat from her, blindly throwing it behind me.

“You don’t get to dictate whether I live or die” I snarled, pulling her up by her hair so that she was forced to look at me. “I’m not willing to die just so that you can fulfill your childish wishes about something that was never meant to be yours.”

“Let go!” she shrieked.

I knew right away she was trying to use magic: I tasted it, bitter like burnt sugar, in the back of my throat; it prickled my skin like an electric wave about to die down; it crackled faintly in my ears, an echo I almost failed to notice. Fia was struggling to tap into her magic. Her figure, like the images on an old TV with a spotty signal, glitched in and out of existence right before my eyes.

Look who’s having trouble defending herself now.

Her attempts to make herself invisible were weak and all over the place. Her magic was irregular, blotchy, tainted by the evident fear coursing through her. It didn’t take long for her to realize this wasn’t going anywhere: with what sounded like a grunt, Fia reached up and grabbed my hair in turn, yanking me down with such force I almost lost my footing.

“Two can play this game” she snickered, the sound a little creepy and unhinged. “You’re not walking out of this parking lot alive, I’m telling you that mu—”

The rest of the sentence was devoured by a wet, gurgling scream, the result of a knee in her mouth. My knee.

“You bitch.” She fell on her butt as soon as I let her hair go, rivulets of blood dripping from her lower lip. The look on her face once she realized she was bleeding was almost funny: a frown that was both shocked and pissed at the same time. Like she couldn’t believe I’d just hit her. “That hurt.”

“You hurt me first” I pointed out, taking a step back. Unlike her, and despite my rage, I had no intention of resorting to murder. How very mature of me. “No, scratch that. You tried to kill me, and it’s not even the first time you’ve done it.” Talking was hard and painful, but keeping quiet? That was even worse. “You actually thought I was just going to take it? That I wouldn’t even try to defend myself?”

Fia pushed herself back up, blood dripping onto the concrete in red, shiny coins. “Uhm, yeah? In case you didn’t notice, you’re a helpless freak, Violet.” She licked her lips and spat on the ground, wiping her chin with a finger. “Always so scared, so quiet, so submissive.” She pretended to tremble and flinch in what, I had to admit, was a pretty accurate imitation of me. Still. It was very rude. “So, no. I didn’t think you’d defend yourself. I actually thought you were going to apologize and offer your head so that I could comfortably smash it in.”

“Don’t get any closer” I warned her, watching her stumble toward me. Glad to see she was also in a bad state. “I don’t want to fight. I’m sick of fighting, for fuck’s sake! You’re not going to get what you want, so it’s better if—no!”

But it was too late: my distraction, although brief, had given her the perfect opportunity to sprint to me and push me. I tripped but didn’t fall, taking several steps back to regain balance.

“I won’t fail again” she said, closing the distance with wide, determined steps. The almost mechanical quality of her movements and the crazed look in her eyes made her look like a robot whose only order was to kill everything in its path. In that specific case, me. “I’ve worked too hard to give up now.”

The plan hadn't changed: I needed to get to the elevator, alert someone of the situation, and then get myself blessed. Exorcised, maybe. Given the rate at which I was getting almost getting killed, it was much needed.

I managed three steps before I was grabbed and yanked back by the collar of my sweatshirt, the fabric cutting my air supply so unexpectedly that I found myself gasping for breath. A kick on the back of my knee forced me on all fours, and since Fia hadn't let go of the sweatshirt, I started suffocating. The collar dug deep into my flesh, and the crushing pressure in my temples and behind my eyes made me fear my head was going to explode.

"I think I've changed my mind" Fia hissed in my ear. "I fear I need those torture marks on you before you die, Vi. To make it realistic. Believable" she added, pulling me back with such force I let out an accidental whine. "I hope you understand—"

I jerked and rolled on my back, quick enough that Fia lost her grip. Quick enough that I hit my head on the concrete from the recoil. I immediately got back up, ignoring the pain pulsing through my body like something alive, and I pushed Fia away from me. But it wasn’t enough—not nearly. How dare she speak to me that way? Like my life was worth less than hers? Like her wanting to kill me was no big deal? Without fully realizing it, I was tapping into that same rage that had animated me earlier, but amplified to the point of no return.

Because she thought I wouldn’t even try to defend myself.

Because she spoke like it was normal, even expected of her to try and kill me.

Because she thought she could take my place and steal what was mine.

Because she was a huge fucking bitch.

Because I had had enough.

I pushed her again, harder this time. A third shove was all it took for her to stumble and fall, long red hair in her face, her eyes huge through the strands. "What did you just do?" she hissed, but her breathing was labored, and the question sounded scared.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I kicked her shoulder before she could get up, sending her down again, then stomped on her hand when she reached to grab my ankle. Her shriek made me want to die—the throbbing in my head was that bad. And it was her fault.

All

Kick.

Her

Kick.

Fault

All her fucking fault.

I only came back to my senses when a set of hands pulled me back, and still, for a good minute, I put up a fight because I didn't want to stop until the bitch bled.

“Calm down, ninja” a warm voice whispered in my ear. “Those lessons are truly paying off, aren’t they? So strong.”

I may be strong, but he—Quinn, I realized at that moment—was stronger, so much so that I couldn’t move. That was all it took for the final wave of lucid consciousness to finally wash over me, making me painfully aware of what I’d done. Painfully aware of the guilt I found inside as I looked at Fia, now restrained by Nicholas. He was staring at me with something that vaguely resembled a smile and a proud expression. Part of the guilt vanished just like that.

“Is Violet okay?” Kenji asked, assessing me without directly acknowledging me. He only looked mildly pissed.

“She was kicking her ass” Nicholas commented, ignoring Fia’s attempts to play victim and pushing her forward with the enthusiasm of someone forced to move a cart full of smelly trash. “We should ask little miss almost killer here.”

“She was the one attacking me!” she yelled, thrashing in Nicholas’s firm grip. “She led me out here and tried to kill me because she’s a jealous little bitch who can’t stand the idea of Quinn and me being together! Let go!”

What a liar. A part of me was dying to intervene and explain what had actually happened, maybe to hush her up with another kick or two, but I couldn’t find enough strength to do so.

“The Council will establish it” Kenji replied. His eyes were still on me. “Nicholas, take Fia to Asteria. Quinn, to the infirmary.”

“I’m not hu—”

“To the infirmary” he repeated, slower this time, his voice cold as a shard of ice. “Now.”

“What about you?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, leading me to think he hadn’t heard my question or had deliberately chosen to ignore it, but then he finally let out a sigh. “I’m taking five minutes to calm down.” He turned just enough to give Fia a look I feared could kill. “I’ll need it.”

It was going to be a long night. I wasn’t sure I had the strength for it.