Chapter 17
Sorcia bolted upright with a sharp gasp, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Her eyes darted around her loft, scanning the familiar space for anything out of place.
The dim glow of the city lights spilled through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the industrial-chic furniture.
Everything appeared to be exactly where it should be, yet the feeling of unease gripped her like a vice.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked, his voice still husky from sleep. He moved slowly, sitting up beside her and instinctively reaching out to rub her back.
“Something…” She paused, her breath shaky as she strained to listen. The soft hum of the city outside, the occasional distant honk of a car, and the faint creak of the building settling were all she could hear.
Marcus straightened, his body immediately taut as his senses sharpened. He reached for the knife tucked under his side of the bed. It wasn’t much, but the action told her he felt it too.
The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating.
“I don’t hear anything, and everything seems to be in place,” she said, her voice tight as she clutched the sheet over her chest, as though the fabric could shield her from the growing sense of dread.
Marcus’s piercing blue eyes flicked to hers. “But you feel something is wrong,” he finished for her, his voice steady but low.
He threw off the sheets and stood up by the bed. He twirled his hands around his body and soapy water washed him clean of the previous night’s sexual marathon. Then, he snapped his fingers and was dressed in jeans and another soft sweater as well as running shoes.
Sorcia watched, fascinated for a long moment by his body.
He’d done things to her last night that had been…
absolutely mind-blowing. For a long moment, she wondered if she could ask him to do them again.
But then she remembered that a demon was trying to capture members of her coven.
And something had woken her up. She still wasn’t sure what, but she couldn’t just sit around staring at Marcus’ body while someone hurt her friends.
Standing, she followed Marcus with a magical shower of her own, then snapped and she was wearing leggings and a sweater with running shoes. Normally, she enjoyed a long, warm shower to wake her up and get her morning started. That wasn’t on the agenda today.
Sorcia had just snapped her fingers for a coffee when the sensation hit her—a tremor, faint but unmistakable, rippling through her very core. It was subtle, like a low-frequency hum vibrating beneath her skin, but it was there.
Her hand froze mid-air as she glanced sharply at Marcus. He stood rooted in place, his stance rigid, his gaze flicking to hers.
“You feel it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice low and taut with tension.
“Yeah,” he replied grimly, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting the walls themselves to reveal their intruder. “Whatever’s causing the tremors, it’s close. Too close.”
“Let’s go,” she whispered fiercely. Without hesitation, she tossed her coffee into the air, the steaming liquid and cup vanishing in an instant.
In the same motion, she grabbed her keys and snapped her fingers again, transferring everything from her purse into her backpack.
Slinging it over her shoulder, she hurried after Marcus, her heart pounding in sync with the urgency that had seized them both.
They sprinted down the stairs, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the stairwell, each step charged with fierce determination.
By the time Marcus burst through the door to the street, the sleek black SUV he’d been driving was already pulling up to the curb, engine running, doors swinging open as if it had anticipated their need.
Marcus slid into the driver’s seat, his movements sharp and purposeful. Sorcia slammed the passenger door shut just as he pulled away from the curb in one smooth motion.
“Which way?” he asked, his voice tight with focus as he maneuvered through the faint morning mist that blanketed the streets, shrouding the city in a ghostly quiet.
Sorcia closed her eyes, centering herself against the pulse of anxiety coursing through her. She let the vibrations guide her, each subtle shift in the sphaera’s energy acting as her compass.
“Right,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. Marcus turned without hesitation.
“Left,” she said moments later, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat as Marcus veered onto another street, the tires skimming over the wet pavement.
The city was still waking, its streets mostly empty, but the tension between them was palpable, their senses heightened with the chase.
Flying would have been faster, but they’d learned over the past two weeks that the tremors were fleeting and delicate.
Flying risked losing the thread of energy they were following.
Driving, as frustratingly slow as it felt, kept them connected to the faint vibrations, allowing Sorcia to guide them more precisely.
Marcus glanced at her briefly, his jaw tight, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “We’ll find it,” he said, his tone steady but brimming with resolve.
“We have to,” Sorcia replied, her voice trembling slightly before she steeled herself. “This time, we’re not letting it get away.”
Marcus made another sharp right, then a left, his eyes scanning the road while his grip on the wheel tightened. “We’re losing it!” he growled, the tremors fading with every passing second. His frustration was palpable, his jaw clenched so tightly Sorcia could see the muscle twitch beneath his skin.
“Don’t do it, Sorcia!” he yelled at her, a note of authority cutting through his frustration.
Sorcia ignored him, her heart pounding as she pressed the button to lower the window. The cool morning air rushed in, carrying with it the faintest hint of the demon’s presence. Without hesitation, she slipped out and launched herself into the sky, her body cutting through the misty air.
Flying high above the highway, she pushed herself to go faster, relying on the cover of lingering darkness and the early morning fog to shield her from prying human eyes. She pressed her temple, sending a telepathic message to Marcus, keeping him updated on her direction.
The tremors were faint but still there, guiding her like a flickering beacon.
As she got closer, they grew sharper, more erratic, until a sudden, violent pulse nearly knocked her out of the air.
Gritting her teeth, Sorcia fought to steady herself, the jarring sensation reverberating through her body.
She managed to land on the roof of a nearby building, her knees bending to absorb the impact.
That’s when she saw Viktor, his tall frame illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. He stood still, his eyes scanning the streets below with deadly focus.
“You felt it too,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the fog.
“I did,” Sorcia whispered, her eyes narrowing as she tried to pinpoint the source of the tremors.
“It’s a demon, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, his tone grim.
“Yep.” Her voice was taut with both certainty and tension.
“You should have told me sooner.” He looked at her, his expression softening for a moment. “You helped us when we needed you, Sorcia. Now it’s our turn to repay the favor.”
“Thank you, Viktor,” she replied, her voice barely audible, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Together, they turned their focus back to the streets below, their senses heightened, every shadow a potential threat.
“There!” Viktor said in hushed tones, pointing toward a narrow side street. Sorcia’s heart sank when she saw a familiar figure.
“Bethany,” she whispered, panic lacing her words. Her friend was walking directly toward the building Viktor had identified. And she was alone.
“She’s heading right for it,” Viktor growled, his body tensing like a coiled spring.
Without another word, he leapt from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the cement sidewalk below. Sorcia followed, her landing far less elegant but equally determined. They sprinted toward the building, Viktor’s vampiric speed allowing him to pull ahead.
But even at his speed, they weren’t fast enough.
A chilling laugh rang out, freezing Sorcia in her tracks. The sound sent a shiver down her spine as her eyes locked onto Hazelton Birchsmire, a demon she’d seen pictures of a long time ago.
Hazelton stood in the center of the street, his hand wrapped around Bethany’s throat. His eyes gleamed with malevolence as his laughter echoed around them.
“No!” Sorcia cried out, her voice breaking as she ran toward them.
Hazelton smirked, his grip tightening on Bethany. “Too late,” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. And then he was gone!
Sorcia froze, her scream still echoing in her ears as the blinding flash of Hazelton's disappearance burned itself into her mind.
Bethany was gone. Gone! Her mind reeled, cycling through every possibility, every spell she could cast, but there was nothing to trace them. Nothing to bring her friend back.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt around her.
“No!” she screamed again, her voice raw with anguish and frustration.
Her legs buckled beneath her, and she dropped to her knees on the cold pavement, staring at the spot where Hazelton had vanished with Bethany.
The squeal of tires snapped her out of her daze as Marcus’ SUV came to a screeching halt.
The door slammed open, and he was out in an instant, not even bothering to cut the engine.
His long strides ate up the distance between them, and before Sorcia could stand, his arms were around her, pulling her against his chest.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice tight with urgency. His hand ran up and down her back, but his eyes locked on Viktor, who stood rigid, his expression a mix of fury and frustration.