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CALLIE

Benedict saunters toward us like he's at his leisure. Almost as if there hadn't just been the worst announcement imaginable not a minute before. My pulse races, and the anger bubbles up once more. How can anything be normal when Hank’s mom and my cat are in danger? I glance at the man in question, checking he's dealing with his mom's situation well enough.

Hank smiles, but it doesn't cover the pain in his eyes. He's surviving, though. Like me. And that's the important thing.

I turn my attention to the new arrival. I can't imagine what Benedict is doing here. And his appearance only adds more questions to the list. How did he know we were here? And why does it matter?

James looks puzzled, worried even. That's odd. He's old friends with Benedict and was nice to him last time. Will seethes next to him. Ah, right. He and Hank don't like Benedict at all. To be honest, I can't say I'm his biggest fan after the problems he caused between us all.

"What are you doing here?" James asks, his hostility coming through his words.

Benedict's hawk-like gaze leaves me for the first time since he appeared as he switches his attention to James. "Old friend. I've been keeping an eye on the whole situation, keeping the queen apprised of the situation over here in the good old traitor territory." He chuckles at his joke.

I roll my eyes. We've all heard it before. Americans are all traitors after breaking from England. It's not as funny as he's making it out to be.

"Yes, we knew that," I interject. "But why are you here now ?" I stress the last word, hoping he realizes how serious I am about him telling us the answer. If it comes to it, I will hurt him for it.

"I heard the attack. After I found out you were tied to the fire station, I, ah, persuaded a neighbor to allow me to rent a room from them and kept my eyes on the place. I felt it as soon as your ward came down, then took my time following you."

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure out if he's being helpful or if he's got something up his sleeve. Despite being helpful so far, he's almost impossible to read, and I can't work out what side he's on. It makes it very difficult to trust him, even if I want to. Thankfully, my opinion seems to be shared by the guys, as they're all still on high alert. I'm not sure what the others make of the interaction. Other than Fran, I doubt the others know much about Benedict at all.

James steps forward, bristling as he prepares to do something. I'm not sure what. I can't let him, though. Benedict is one of his oldest friends, and if there's no reason to ruin their friendship, then I don't want to cause that.

I step forward and place a comforting hand on James' arm. He relaxes slightly but doesn't completely ease up.

"Why are you here? Do you want to join us?" I ask. It's the only logical explanation I can come up with.

Benedict smiles sadly, wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I would love to. I actually loathe your king and hoped to see him brought down." He sighs. "But, my queen worries that this is a cause you cannot win. And though this is a relatively small coven, she won't risk alienating a powerful leader like your uncle, however much she wishes she could support you. She asked me specifically to give you her sympathies."

Why do I get the feeling there's something he isn't saying?

"But?" I prompt, knowing I'm right about this.

"But..." Ah. There is it. "A civil war in your coven, however small you may be, is too many witches’ lives lost. It's not good for magic or for the politics of the witch world."

James's bicep tightens under my hand. He knows what's coming. We all do. It isn't hard to guess.

"So." I sigh. "You're allying yourself with the king."

Benedict nods again, still looking sad. Raising his arm, he waves one finger into the air, and a group of witches steps out of the woods. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." He holds out his arms. "You're dreadfully outgunned, so there’s no point in trying to fight back. We don’t need more witches’ lives lost."

My heart sinks. His betrayal stings more than it should. I’d known when he trained me we weren’t exactly friends, but I’d thought there was enough of a relationship between us that he wouldn’t pull shit like this. I guess I was wrong. It wasn’t just sad he wasn’t our ally. It was sad that James’s friend was the asshole people had warned us about.

James shakes my hand off and steps in front of me. "She's not going anywhere," he growls. His eyes almost flicker with something more than the unbridled anger emanating from him. But no. I must be imagining it.

“Too bad,” Benedict says, and he looks disappointed. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”

“Neither did we.” Will’s voice holds a wicked edge.

Energy and fireballs fly from behind me toward the enemies walking across the sand. A couple hit their targets, and the men flew back, smashing onto the ground. The other warlocks are faster, raising shimmering shields that knock the fireballs away uselessly before returning the volley, aiming at those on the edges of our group to avoid hitting Benedict.

I can't believe how quickly things have devolved into a fight. Again . I should be used to it by now, but it’s hard to ignore the smell of smoke in the air, teamed with the whole risk of premature death...

My teeth clench together. I might not be able to destroy my uncle right now, but I sure as hell could make his men pay. I summon up a fireball of my own. I may not be the most controlled yet, but that doesn't mean I can't at least be semi-accurate at this range.

I'm about to let my magic go when James shoves me behind Hank's dad. As my three guys throw their magic at Benedict and the others, frustration grows within me at being pushed to the side again. I know they're doing it to protect me, but at some point, they're going to have to accept that I can take care of myself. For all of our sakes, I hope that's sooner rather than later.

Hank's dad pushes me farther back, and I spot Fran in the fight. She focuses on the ground, and vines whip up through the sand to wrap themselves around the approaching witches’ legs.

Neat trick. I'll have to get her to teach me it. Although...

I focus on Fran and study what she's doing, then try to connect with the earth myself. I don't know what that amazing feeling was earlier, but I hope if I can tap into the earth's magic, I'll feel it again. And then... I do. A warmth blossoms inside of me then spreads to my fingertips. A tingle moves over my flesh, and I know I’m smiling. Smiling because this magic inside of me can do things I never even imagined.

The sun begins to peek over the horizon as I focus on burrowing my magic deep underground. It’s strange how I can smell the earth, how I can almost taste it on my lips. And yet, I have to go deeper still. Somewhere just a little farther, I sense Fran’s shimmering magic. And then, I find the same roots Fran used to trip the men up!

Whispering through my magic, I plead with them to save us. The warmth in my chest grows, reminding me of the feeling I’d had earlier in the night. It's different though. Less pure. The next thing I know, vines whip out of the ground and wrap themselves around the men from ankle to neck, holding them upright. Before I can do anything to change it, the vines tug on my power, and the earth opens up.

Except, it's not as simple as that. It's as if I've opened up a chasm inside myself as well as in the ground. Everything the earth feels, I do,, too. The footsteps, the angry running, the singed blades of grass. It's only local to this area, but it's enough for me to want to cry for the earth. Except, I can't . I have to focus. Once all of this is over, I can get Fran to teach me more control over it. For now, I have to use what I've got.

The attacking witches disappear into the sand along with the vines, as if they'd never been there to begin with. My eyes are wide as I stare at the space. I shouldn't have been able to do that, should I have? It's not right.

Everyone, including Benedict, gapes at the spot where the witches just stood, shooting us with their power.

It seems they feel the same way I do about it.

Then they all look at me. Every one of their gazes bores into me, making me uncomfortable and itchy. If I was a child, I'd have thought I'd done something wrong. But I’m not a child; I’m a would-be queen, and I was damn sure going to act like it. Starting with dealing with the fucking traitor.

"Excuse me," I tell Hank's dad as I step around him, heading for Benedict. I put a hand on James's arm again before he can try to stop me. "I need to be the one who deals with this.”

First, James and then the other two meet my gaze. I can tell they're conflicted. They don't want me in danger; that's obvious enough, but they also know I'm right, and that's hard to ignore. Benedict needs to be dealt with. Especially if he's going to do his best to help the king instead of us.

Eventually, they step away from me, leaving the path to my new enemy free. The three of them fall in behind me, an honor guard who I know will be with me my entire life. With them at my back, how can I fail?

Benedict inclines his head, clearly understanding what I'm up to. It's a shame he's on the wrong side. Perhaps in another life, we could have been friends.

"Are you familiar with witch duels?" he asks.

"No," Hank says firmly, his voice cold and determined. "She's never even heard of them, much less trained for one."

“And she’s not doing one,” Will adds, a threat in his voice.

I ignore my men. "Tell me what it is." I don't ask, I tell. Isn't that what they say all good leaders should do? I'm sure I saw that on a TV show once.

“How about you and I handle this like men instead?” Will takes a step forward, not in front of me, but beside me.

For a second, I’m startled. His dark hair is mussed, and his green eyes are filled with pain and anger. Every muscle in his body is tight, and his hands are curled into fists. My heart aches as I stare at him, and I reach over to stroke his arm lightly. I know a kid raised the fucked up way Will was can’t possibly handle a situation like this without carrying a lot of the weight on his own shoulders.

“I got this,” I tell him, my words soft.

“You don’t even know what this is,” he says, not taking his eyes off Benedict.

“I know that if I can’t survive a duel with Benedict, I don’t deserve to be queen.”

He finally looks at me, and some of his anger wavers. “That’s not what I was–”

“Do you trust me enough to do this?”

He winces. “It’s not about trust.”

“Do you?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, then slowly, he draws away from me until my hand drops from his arm.

I glance back at Benedict, and I don’t like the way his gaze follows the interaction between Will and me. “You were saying…”

"We match wills and magics," Benedict says. "You try to overpower me with yours and I try to overpower you with mine. Whoever is defeated is generally killed." The way he says it leaves no doubt in my mind that he's telling the truth. For all his current faults, Benedict hasn't lied to me.

"It doesn't have to be that way," James says through clenched teeth. "You could leave instead." There's almost a note of begging in his voice. He wants Benedict to spare me but knows he's as trapped as we are.

Benedict tsks through his teeth. "Alas, I cannot go back to my queen without having attempted to subdue our new princess."

A calm settles over me like a warm blanket. I know what to do and how to do it. And I'm fairly sure it's the earth magic, still connected to me through from the vine incident, telling me what to do in the back of my mind. Magic isn't supposed to choose, but it has chosen to help me here today. I hope it's a sign of good things to come.

Without warning, I lash out with about half of my power, shoving it toward Benedict's chest. If I can reach him, I can control him. It's somehow infinitely more complicated than that and so much simpler. But it's better to focus on doing it rather than on working out the intricacies.

He realizes what I'm doing and slams his power into mine.

For a few moments, I'm fascinated by the difference. I've felt his power before, but I've never felt anything like this . Our power grapples with each other as intimately as if Benedict and I had our hands on one another's arms and bodies. It's violent and flexes a muscle I didn't know I had. Some sort of metaphysical muscle.

I have no real trouble holding him back, but I also can't advance my magic either. That's going to be a problem.

But I've been splitting the flow of my magic this whole time, too. Part of it sits back inside me, resting comfortably as it waits for me to need it. The well of power grows quickly, growing from a tiny spark to a glowing orb begging to be released. And it will be. I instinctively know I shouldn't keep this much magic locked up inside me and it'll end badly.

With a sad smile, I take one step forward and release the rest of my energy. It slams into him with an audible pop, and Benedict goes flying backward as his magic cowers before mine and slips as far back into his body as it can.

Mine follows, and suddenly, I realize I'm his master. He cannot move unless I will it.

Well, isn't this a cool twist?

"Kill me, then," Benedict snarls, but there’s fear behind his words.

I force him to his knees, enjoying the power and being ever so slightly repulsed by it at the same time. "I don't believe I will."

"Uh, Callie?" James says behind me. "Generally speaking, the loser of a witches' duel is killed because otherwise, his magic will always have to defer to yours. He can never be fully himself or fully make his own decisions around you ever again."

"And if we're separated?" I ask.

"Shouldn't bother him unless you're together," Fran says. "Except where his feelings are probably hurt for getting beat up by a girl ." She cackles, and I can't help but share her amusement.

Fran darts forward and whispers in my ear. I do as she says, layering magic into my voice. If I compel him, he'll be forced to do as I tell him to. "Go directly to your queen as fast as you safely can. Only stop to rest and eat."

"And relieve yourself," Fran whispers behind me. "The magic takes it literally."

"And relieve yourself, I parrot. "Tell your queen that the East Coast Coven has a new leader, and I won't be dismissed so lightly. I'm happy to be her ally, but I'm the one she needs to worry about. Not my weak uncle." As the words slip out of me, I realize I fully believe them. No one is going to take this coven from me.

Benedict nods and swallows visibly. "I will do so, Queen. But however much you believe you're doing the right thing, you're going to send a lot of people to their graves over this. And the blood will be on your hands."

I turn away from him because I know he's right. What if this is all a huge mistake?

No. I can't think like that. My uncle is a tyrant who has already killed countless people. It's not going to be easy, but I will be better than that. I have to be.

"Go," I say with power in my voice. "I don't ever want to see you again."

James pulls me into his arms and holds me close so I don't have to watch him leave. I'm glad of it. Now, the magic is starting to ebb out of me again, and I'm beginning to regret the harsh words. I know I've done the right thing, but sometimes, that doesn't make things any easier.

"He's gone," James promises.

"Let's get out of here." Fran leads the way again.

As we walk away, I can't help but think about the men in the earth. Could they and the others following my uncle have been acting because he'd dueled them and won?

There's only one way to find out what they think. I take a deep breath, knowing they won't like the idea of me being in so much danger. "Do you think my uncle would go for something like that?"

"No," James squeezes my hand. "The king would never risk a duel. What if he lost?"

I hate that he’s right. I just wish life was this easy.