Chapter Twenty-five
FRANKIE
Despite knowing the magic was hurting me, I absolutely detest that it’s gone. My body feels hollow, like I was gutted with a rusty spork. Pushing aside my discomfort, I search the witch’s expression, wondering if the magic she took is whispering my secrets.
I wait for speculation to darken her eyes, avarice for what she can gain if she just takes more. Though I would hate to kill her, I’ll do it without hesitation if she forces the issue. Curiosity crosses her expression, but she doesn’t barrage me with demands or weave spells to capture me.
Not that it would work, but that’s beside the point.
“You are not a witch. You don’t need to use spells to cast magic the same way we do.
Think of magic as an extension of yourself.
If you want to purge it from your system, just focus on releasing the magic in a slow and steady stream.
You have to use intent. Release it too fast, and it will cause chaos, too slow, and it will consume you from the inside out, then explode in a wave of havoc. ”
“Why is she even struggling with magic?” Dante stares at the witch suspiciously, deep-seated distrust curling his lips. “Shifters are only able to hold a minuscule trace, enough to shift. What’s wrong with her?”
Rude!
Nothing is wrong with me, and I pout, unsure whether I should be offended that he thinks I’m damaged or charmed that he’s concerned. Then my breath stalls in my chest, as if afraid to draw attention to myself. My eyes lock on the witch, curious to see if she recognizes that I’m a kismet.
My wolf inches forward, the scruff of her neck rising. Claws slice through the tips of my fingers, the beast seconds away from ripping out her throat before she can spill our secrets. I tense, ready to pounce…only to pause when the witch shakes her head.
“Nothing is wrong with her.” A furrow appears between her brows, and her gaze clashes with mine. “A few wolves are able to harness a little more magic than others. You call them alphas. She is the same. She just has a little bit more juice than normal.”
She tilts her head to the side, a spark of curiosity in her expression, and I hastily tear my eyes away for fear she’ll read more from me than I’m willing to give away.
Dante grunts, clearly unsatisfied. Before he can probe for more answers, I quickly change the subject. “We don’t have much time. Sooner rather than later, they’re going to check on us. We need a plan.”
A harsh expression deepens the lines of her face.
“Geoffrey took over the coven slowly, casting doubt and suspicion among the witches.
When I began asking questions, his true colors were exposed.
He drugged me, then stuck me in a fucking cage, leaving me to watch as he took the members of my coven one by one.
“Those he didn’t sell off, he drained.” Horror darkens her eyes, as if reliving each of their deaths, and she releases a shuddering breath. “He forced me to watch, wanting to break my spirit, draining me enough each night that I couldn’t fight back.”
She rubs a hand over her heart, as if the loss of her coven was a physical pain. Then her hand curls into a fist, and her expression hardens. “He kept me alive, demanding the location of another coven he could harvest.”
The way her chin lifts in defiance, she would’ve died before breaking. Hatred swirls in her eyes like a brewing storm, the slow smile curling her lips nothing less than sinister. “Now it’s time for vengeance.”
Though dressed in dirty rags, power thrums through her veins so strongly that it pulses in the air. The other prisoners perk up at her speech, no doubt as eager to leave as the rest of us. Unfortunately, I suspect escape isn’t going to be easy.
“How much power are you able to summon?” My mind rapidly flicks through different scenarios, searching for the one that gives us the biggest chance of survival. All the options are pretty dismal. The only way we can escape is if we work together.
Witches, shifters, vampires, fae—if they’re anything like back home…
We’re screwed.
“I won’t be at my full power for some time.” Her expression is reserved, wariness entering her eyes. “Why?”
“Our best chance to survive is if we stick together.” My attention drops to the twenty or so people still recovering, and my gut sinks at their rough shape. Our pitiful army doesn’t stand a chance, and my resolve firms.
No fucking way am I abandoning them after we’ve come so far.
“The two of us against Geoffrey and his goons isn’t going to do any good,” I say, pointing out the obvious. If we didn’t have the other prisoners to protect, I would take the risk, but the others would be slaughtered before they could flee to the tree line.
“Six of us,” Tyler says with a frown. Garth stands behind him with his arms crossed and a fierce glower. Bellamy only stares at me like I’m an idiot if I think I’m going anywhere without him. Dante smirks, like it’s amusing that I would ever get rid of him so easily.
I nearly throw my hands up in exasperation. The men think that because they’re big, strapping boys, it makes them the most powerful. Unfortunately, strength doesn’t necessarily mean you’re at the top of the food chain, especially when you’re going up against magic.
“We have two options,” I say, climbing to my feet, too agitated to remain still. “We can heal the shifters, but it will leave you nearly depleted. If we’re going into battle with a warlock and his men, we’ll need you strong.”
“Agreed.” The witch crinkles her nose. “I could create a distraction while you sneak out the back, but—”
“Geoffrey has his eyes set on me. He won’t let me go without a fight,” I answer, waving away her suggestion.
A few of the other prisoners look interested in the idea of handing me over in exchange for their freedom, and I hastily explain why that would be a bad decision.
“Even if you tie me up in a nice little bow for him to find, he will continue to harvest other covens and other packs. You’re already weak and injured.
It won’t take long for him to recapture any of you, and you will be right back where you started. ”
“They would never make it a foot out the door.” Bellamy chuffs behind me, and the shifters immediately cower and huddle together. “None of them would be able to lay a finger on you before I eat them.”
A beat of silence follows his ominous pronouncement. I blink once, again, then a pleased flush heats my chest, flows up my neck, and warms my cheeks.
Who knew mass murder could be so romantic?
The witch nods approvingly, and a speculative gleam brightens her eyes. “Between the two of us, we can create a big enough diversion to get the others out. Once the townspeople see that I’m alive, it will cause enough confusion that your men can slip out with the injured.”
The men immediately argue with that plan. Ignoring them, I peer at the other prisoners hovering in the darkness, and a spark of an idea slowly takes shape. “What if we do both? If we split their forces, it will cause enough confusion that we can get everyone out alive.”
“We send the shifters out first to create a distraction,” the witch murmurs, ignoring the few prisoners who mumble in discontent.
Even though the shifters were willing to sacrifice me moments ago, I do my best to think strategically and not retaliate in kind.
“Garth and Dante will shift and take out the guards first. Once they’re gone, the others can shift, and we’ll split them into two teams. Each will head into opposite corners of town and cause a distraction.
Anyone too injured to fight will then head toward the tree line. ”
“Once Geoffrey figures out what’s happening, he and his men will kill without discrimination,” the witch warns in a dark tone.
“That’s when you and I will draw his attention. The instant Geoffrey spots us, we will become his main target.” Of that, I’m confident. Silence coats the underground dungeon. No one is pleased with the plan, but no one protests either, which is a minor miracle.
“What about us?” A vampire drags himself to his feet, his pale skin making him stand out starkly against the dark background. A younger vampire stands next to him, while a female sits slumped against the wall.
It’s obvious they’ve not been fed, and it’s only sheer willpower that keeps them from slipping into bloodlust as a result of starvation.
“It’s still daylight,” I murmur, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling like I can see the sky. “I fear if we wait until nightfall, it will be too late.”
Though his expression doesn’t shift, I don’t miss the way his pupils dilate at the thought of being left behind. I glance at the high priestess, cocking my head. “Is there a spell you can cast that would protect them from the sunlight?”
“Not one strong enough,” she replies, dismissing my suggestion. “The spell will keep them alive, but the sunlight will still burn, just slower.”
The main vampire purses his lips, then dips his chin. “That is a risk we are willing to take.”
But I’m already shaking my head, peering back into the darkness. “Just how long are these tunnels?”
The witch’s eyes light up, immediately understanding my goal. “They go on for miles. They connect to a few different buildings in town.”
Our grins match when we turn back toward the vampires, and they stiffen. “How would you like to be our secret weapon?”
His head tilts slightly in interest, curiosity swirling in his blue eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
He’s very careful not to agree to anything, and I don’t fault him for his caution. He has no reason to trust us. “The high priestess will place the spell on you and your associates, but it’s still too dangerous for you to fight out in the open. It would be a death sentence.