Chapter 7
Seven
IZZY
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” an annoyingly jubilant voice declares.
For a moment, I think it’s Lissa, waking me with a wide smile on her face due to her perpetually good mood.
But then I remember that Lissa hasn’t been in a good mood for months.
And that I’m no longer at home in bed.
I jerk upright, my heart battering my rib cage like a sledgehammer, and reach for the knife I always keep under my pillow. Of course, it’s not there—the witches removed all of my weapons when they kidnapped me—but the move is instinctual.
With an almost blistering speed, I jump out of bed and flip the intruder, bringing her to the ground. A surprised “oomph” leaves her.
“Isabella!” Amanda’s alarmed voice barely manages to penetrate my sleep-induced haze.
I ignore my social worker as I hurl daggers with my eyes at the stranger. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my room?”
I frown as I take in the petite woman underneath me, noting the freckles on her cheeks and nose, as well as her carrot-orange hair.
She’s pretty, I suppose, though it’s impossible to determine her age.
Her features are delicate, almost elfin, but her eyes are ageless.
She could be anywhere between fifteen and thirty.
“They told me you were a fighter, but owww.” The girl groans dramatically.
I whip my head up to glare at Amanda, who stands in the doorway of my room, one of her hands fluttering to her throat as if in shock.
“Who is she?” I demand, when it’s apparent the orange-haired girl isn’t going to answer.
“Her name’s Celeste, and she’ll be your mentor while you’re at school here.”
Celeste, still underneath me, smiles brightly and lifts one hand in a wave. “Hi!”
“Ummm…”
Amanda pinches the bridge of her nose. “For the love of Hecate, can you please get off of her?”
I do so, albeit hesitantly, the frown on my face a direct contrast to Celeste’s smile. This entire situation feels…familiar. It wasn’t all that long ago I was tackling my foster brother, Jake, to the ground.
At the thought of him, a sharp pang reverberates through me. Fuck, I miss him, and I can’t help but wonder if he even knows I’m gone yet.
Celeste stands and wipes dirt off her jeans. “Sorry. That was my fault. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I heard you were volatile, but…”
She shrugs helplessly and then giggles, skipping towards…my clothes? What the fuck? When did they arrive? My ratty old duffel bag sits on the edge of the desk, unzipped. Shirts, jeans, and dresses spill over the sides.
Before I can snap at her, Celeste grabs a pair of leggings and a sweater.
“You should wear something comfortable for your first day,” she trills, tossing the items in my direction.
The leggings land on my lap while the shirt dangles off my head. I don’t make a move to grab them.
“They test your endurance, usually. Did you get your class schedule yet? You should have… Ha! There it is!” She triumphantly holds up an iPad. “All of us are issued one. You’ll be able to message other students and see your assignments and—”
I zone Celeste out and turn towards Amanda. Fierce indignation ripples through me.
“I want to talk to the guys.” I don’t want to use the word “mates” in this setting, but if Amanda’s been following me as closely as she led me to believe…
Sympathy crowds her face. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Don’t tell me what’s possible,” I snap.
I feel seconds from bursting, like each consecutive second inflates me with helium, my rage feeding the cache.
Celeste clears her throat and shifts from foot to foot. “You’re not allowed contact with the outside world until you complete a month of training and undergo the witch—”
“A month?!?” Oh hell no.
If Delaney wants me to be her pretty little puppet, then she needs to make concessions. I need to see with my own two eyes that my mates are okay. Has Christian returned yet? Did they find Ethan? Are Reid and Emery okay? What about Ansel and Grayson?
“Isabella, please,” Amanda says softly. “I know they told you about the witching moon. This shouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Take me to Delaney. I need to speak with her.”
Celeste gasps softly at my tone. I imagine no one has demanded anything of the witches’ precious “Mother” before.
“You should get dressed first.” Amanda purses her lips.
“And afterwards you’ll bring me to Delaney?”
“I don’t—”
“No need to bring the child.” The silky voice sounds from directly behind Amanda. “I’m here.”
Delaney looks immaculate, like always, in her form-fitting blazer and navy skirt. Her golden hair is twisted away from her heart-shaped face in an elaborate updo.
“Mother.” Celeste and Amanda both bow their heads reverently, but I remain where I am, glaring daggers at the woman who upended my life.
Delaney arches an eyebrow at my lack of respect but chooses not to comment. Instead, she glides into the room, her slippered feet practically silent on the carpet.
“You’re angry.” She doesn’t word it as a question.
I jump to my feet, my hands balled into fists.
“You’re damn right I’m angry.” I raise an accusatory finger in her direction. “You kidnapped me. Brought me here. And now you’re insisting I go to witchy school.”
“And you think it’s a problem to learn how to use your gifts, if you even have any to begin with?” She gives me a look that practically exudes arrogance.
Anger rises inside of me, swift and demanding, but I push it back down. “I’m not saying that.”
If I do have “magic”—which I obviously don’t—then I would want to learn how to use my abilities. The last thing I want is to accidentally hurt someone.
“So it’s not the training you have a problem with.” Delaney speaks slowly, as if she believes I’m an idiot. Her condescending tone makes me want to deck her across the face. “You just don’t want to be away from your mates for an entire month.”
Celeste gasps, whipping her head around to stare at me with bug-like eyes, and Delaney’s smile curves upwards.
“You think I wouldn’t know?” She taps a manicured finger against the crook of her arm. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you longer than you know.”
Okay, so that secret’s out of the bag. Whatever. As long as it works in my favor.
“You’ll let me see them?”
Delaney doesn’t answer for a long moment, her eyes assessing. Despite her silence, I have a feeling she already knows what she’s going to say—that she knew for a while now. I feel like a tiny, insignificant mouse being batted around by a cat.
“How about this? Every week, you’ll stay here. Train. Learn. Be with your own kind. Then, on the weekend, you’ll be allowed to go home. How does that sound?”
A rushing sound erupts between my ears. Obviously, I would vote to never be here, but it’s apparent I won’t get that as an option. But being able to see my friends, family, and mates at least two days a week? I’ll take it.
“You can leave Friday after your last class and return Sunday night,” Delaney continues, a regal smile on her face. “You’ll be the only one allowed to go. I’ve never offered this to anyone before.”
“It’s true,” Celeste breathes, staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. And maybe even a little jealousy. “When you first start your training, you’re forced to spend a month without any contact with the outside world.”
“Where even are we?” I ask, moderately surprised I didn’t think to ask that sooner.
Delaney’s smile sharpens. “Unfortunately, you’ll only be privy to that information when you join the coven.”
When, not if.
I make a mental note of that distinction.
“Then how will I get out of here on the weekend?”
This sounds like a trap. In my life, I’ve discovered that if something sounds too good to be true…it usually is.
“Magic, of course.” Delaney waves away my question like it’s a buzzing gnat.
“We have wards around the perimeter that make it so anyone not in the coven will forget the location of the building immediately. One of our coven members will drive you home on Friday and pick you up on Sunday.” She extends a hand to me, her golden brow cocked. “So? Is it a deal?”
I hesitate for a long moment, searching for any way this deal could fuck me over.
“Fine,” I say at last, placing my hand in hers and giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”
Electricity tingles in my palm and migrates upwards, enveloping my body in warmth. I pull away from my aunt with a gasp of surprise.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand, staring at my tingling palm.
“A witch’s deal,” Celeste exclaims.
“When two witches—or warlocks—make a deal, their magics collide, creating an unbreakable vow,” Amanda takes over. Shock widens her eyes. “If either of you break your end of the deal, your magic will rebel, usually causing immense pain.”
“This is to keep you from running off,” Delaney says, her smile widening, unveiling straight white teeth. “But I also wanted to see something.”
“See what?” I snap, feeling inexplicably betrayed.
I don’t trust Delaney further than I can throw her, but she should’ve said that our deal would be sealed by magic. I wouldn’t have done anything differently, but I deserved to know before agreeing.
“See if you have magic. And I was right. You do.”
I suddenly feel lightheaded. Adrift. Weightless. A boat without an anchor.
What is it that Amanda said about a witch’s deal? Magics colliding?
I guess that explains the shock on Amanda’s face and the triumphant smirk on Delaney’s.
“I bet everyone with witch’s blood has some magic,” I snap, shaking my hand out as if that can somehow rid the limb of the strange tingly sensation.
“Perhaps.” Delaney doesn’t sound convinced, and her smile doesn’t fade. “Now, get dressed. You have class in exactly twenty-two minutes.”
I wonder if knowing exact time is a witch’s thing…or a Delaney thing. My money’s on the latter.
Without another word, my aunt stalks out of the room, her chin hefted imperiously and her hands clasped behind her back. I wait until she’s gone before whirling on Amanda and Celeste.
“Is she for real?” I snap.