Page 25

I close my fingers around the mixture and huff my breath over the mess.

I hold a thought in my mind, stirring up my magic as I exhale my intention over my hand.

It takes a few deep breaths until I’m satisfied with the little spell I’ve created.

I open my fingers and lift my hand, letting the wind carry the dirt away.

It skitters and floats on a breeze, sparkling like glitter as it drifts away from me.

I follow the trail it’s creating, stepping over fallen logs and moving around ancient oak trees.

The birds are still twittering happily in the trees, and my magic is tugging me along the path, pointing me in the direction of one of the enchanted objects.

I almost step right over it. That’s how forgettable the object is.

But the magic stream of dust settles, falling onto a pinecone buried under a layer of needles.

When I pick up the cone, a spark of magic sings across my fingers and I know this is one of the objects.

It’s so common. One pinecone among many.

And yet, this one is magical. I put it in my pocket and start back toward the clearing.

Should I go find Ambrose, or the others?

A woman screams, not far away. It sends a shiver down my spine.

I freeze, and for a second, the only sound I hear is my ragged breathing.

My heart is beating so hard I feel it hammering against my ribs.

The Grimwoods are not known for animals or any danger.

Locals who aren’t witches say that it’s haunted, but honestly, that’s just because the covens have been using it for ceremonies for centuries.

That’s enough to drum up lore around a location.

My heart calms enough that I can hear again.

The rustling and shuffling of bodies moving off to my right leaves me with a decision to make.

Do I run back to the clearing? Find my way to safety from whatever caused that woman to scream?

Or do I help her? What if she was the one doing something wrong, and the scream was in aggression?

It doesn’t matter. I can’t turn my back on someone who’s potentially hurt or in trouble just because I’m scared.

I’ve been that person before. The one cowering in fear.

The one forced to obey, and in those times, I prayed to the Maiden for anyone to help me.

I can’t turn my back now and leave someone else to face that alone.

I sprint in the direction of the scream, my flashlight bobbing across the ground. I nearly trip on a downed branch and brambles catch on my pants. I’m breathing hard, but it’s more from fear than exertion.

My light catches on a man crouched over a body on the ground.

“Where is it? You stupid bitch.” Tucker’s head snaps up when my light hits him.

He’s hunched over Danielle Dyer searching her pockets. Her body is limp on the ground, her eyes closed.

“What did you do?” I hiss.

Tucker has already turned his attention back to Danielle. He whistles as he pulls a rock out of her pants pocket.

He slowly stands up, groaning as he pushes up with his hands on his knees. Tucker is only in his forties and he’s strong. But he’s relied on genetics rather than taking care of his body for many years. He has a barrel belly that hides muscles under the fat.

Tucker has an actual flashlight and not one from his phone. He shines it in my face, and I hold my hand up to block the light.

“Little pathetic Piper. Were you giving up already? You should, you know. You aren’t smart or talented enough to win these trials. You’re just going to embarrass yourself and the Beaumont name in front of the whole coven.”

I take a step back, squinting against the assault of the light.

“What did you do to Danielle?” My voice waivers, but I’m not going to back down this time. I’ve survived my uncle’s wrath before. I move in a circle trying to get to Danielle. Tucker circles with me.

“What are you going to do, Piper? Are you going to cry over her? Hope your tears are magical and can heal her.” He draws out every word, loving the way my fear grows with each second.

My hands tremble as I shine my flashlight on Danielle. There’s blood around her scalp.

“Did you hit her?”

“I got my object,” Tucker says matter of factly, and my stomach twists.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a violent challenge.”

“Says who?” Tucker flips his rock up in the air, catching it like it’s an insignificant trinket and he didn’t just bash someone over the head to get it.

I drop to my knees beside Danielle. There’s a lot of blood, and I don’t exactly have towels to stop the bleeding.

There’s a pack of tissues in my pocket and I wonder if it’s even worth trying to stop the bleeding.

Or if I’ll do more harm. I need to call for help.

Needing to do something, I pull out the wad tissues and press them to Danielle’s head.

She moans, and it’s a relief. At least he didn’t kill her.

I pull up Ambrose’s number and press call. Tucker’s foot connects with my fingers, kicking my phone and shattering something in my hand. I cry out, folding my body and clutching my hand to my chest.

My phone lands a good fifteen feet away, the flashlight side up. A beam of light pierces through the darkness. Tucker squats down across from me with a gleeful look on his face.

“You really should know better. How many times have I had to put you in your place, and you’ve still never learned? You really are stupid. First, you become an inheritance-stealing burden I have to care for, then you think you can get around our little family hex by marrying a Roth.”

For years, Tucker claimed I tried to steal his inheritance, simply by being born. It’s as misguided as the rest of his messed-up beliefs.

Tears stream down my face from the pain in my hand.

My magic isn’t combative in nature. I make potions and I’m good at putting together clues.

Researching through dusty old tomes for the history of magic and composing spells to get shit done.

I can’t make the wind throw him away from me, and I can’t use water magic to freeze him in place.

Tucker has brute force. He also has fire magic, and he’s burned me more than once.

He’s so much bigger than me, but I won’t go down without a fight.

“I will never let you win.”

Tucker raises his hand, ready to reach out and grab me. I know this move. He will burn my skin with his fire magic. He knows how to do it underneath the surface so it’s agony, but it doesn’t leave a mark.

I tip my head back and scream bloody murder.

A shape barrels into Tucker, and they go tumbling away from Danielle’s body. Grunts and the sound of flesh pummeling flesh echoes around me. My phone is too far away for me to grab, and it’s too dark for me to see what’s happening. Still, I know, down to the marrow of my being, that it’s Ambrose.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps has my head spinning. They’re coming from multiple directions. I keep my focus on Danielle though, afraid any sudden movements on my part will have me throwing up. My hand is throbbing. A pulse of pain hitting each time my blood pumps through my veins.

“Fucking Crone,” Roman swears as he swings his light over Ambrose and Tucker, and then finds me and Danielle on the ground.

Ambrose is on top of Tucker, beating the absolute shit out of him. Roman pulls him off my uncle, but Ambrose fights him.

“Calm the fuck down. He’s unconscious,” Roman shouts, and Ambrose goes from flailing beast to calm in an instant. He wipes at some blood trickling from his nose and faces me. Sweet, bubbly Ambrose is gone. There’s a feral glint in his eyes that catches in the light.

He stalks toward me and helps me up. Maybe I should be afraid–the ferocity in his eyes is terrifying–but I’m not. He accidentally jostles my arm, and I hiss.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” Ambrose asks gently, his hand brushing down my cheek and tipping my chin up. His knuckles are bloody.

“I think my fingers are broken.”

Ambrose takes a step back toward Tucker, but Roman steps in front of him. “Josephine can heal her. Let’s get both of them back to the clearing.” He nods down at Danielle.

“Did you guys find your item?” Sure, it might not be the most important thing right now, but actually, it is. It’s clearer than ever that we need good people to run the council, not pieces of trash like Tucker.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ambrose says, as he picks up my phone and guides me to the clearing. Roman lifts Danielle into his arms and quickly joins us.

“It does. It really matters. If you don’t stay in these trials and someone like Tucker ends up back on the council, nothing will change. You have to find your object,” I plead, my hand cradled to my chest. I’m close to tears, from pain and desperation.

“We will. Let’s get you to the clearing, and then Roman and I will head back in.” Ambrose smooths his hand down my back, his tone soothing. As if he wasn’t just a rage-fuel mess.

“There’s twenty minutes left.” I want him to feel the press of urgency.

“I know, Pipes. We’ll find them.”

Josephine, Ava, Stellan, and Bram spot us as we come out of the woods. They’re grinning, but that quickly disappears when they see an unconscious Danielle in Roman’s arms. Josephine rushes over and reaches out to place a hand on Danielle’s face.

“What happened?”

“My uncle,” I grit out. Josephine’s face blanches as she sees me holding my hand.

“You’re hurt too?”

“Help Danielle first. I’ll be fine.” I turn toward Ambrose. “You guys need to go. Time is running out.”

Ambrose hesitates, but I push him with my good hand. “Go.”

Bram takes Danielle from Roman so he and Ambrose can head back into the woods.

Odie comes out with a triumphant grin from a completely different direction a few seconds later.

Her face falls when she sees what’s happened.

Others from the coven have gathered around us and Lucida has to push through them to get to us.

Danielle is waking up just as Lucida reaches us. Josephine steps back and Bram sets a now conscious Danielle on her feet. Lucida reaches out and offers her a steadying hand. “Danielle, what happened?”

Josephine picks up my hand and apologizes when I drag in a pained breath. Her healing magic starts to work immediately, but it’s not like in the movies. She can’t reset broken bones with her magic alone.

“I’m going to have to straighten your fingers.” Her long dark hair is whipping around in the wind and so is mine. My red swirls with her nearly black strands, and I close my eyes, nodding for her to go on.

“Stellan,” Josephine barks out. He’s holding me up in the next instant as Josephine sets the bones in two fingers back in place.

My breaths come out in heavy pants, and I fight to stave off the nausea.

I don’t want to puke in front of everyone.

More of Josephine’s healing magic flows through me, until the pain is a dull, tolerable throb.

Josephine’s hands are trembling when she’s done.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and she squeezes my arm in reply.

“I’m going to really need a nap now.”