Chapter 2 Julia #2
If that bitch is still alive—and it’s possible, as I have known witches to live past two hundred—she’s going to regret this. She cursed me for 118 damned years, and I’m going to make her repent for every single day I lost.
Hannah wraps her arms around herself, shivering as she backs toward the house. “Well, if there’s no one I can call, do you mind letting yourself out the side gate?”
I narrow my eyes and raise both hands. “Not until I’m done with you.”
If she can’t give me answers, she can at least give me what I crave. My magic is weakening with each second I stand here, and this young woman’s life force is strong, beckoning me like a honey-sweet aura. Draining her should buy me enough time to find Rebecca.
At my command, ash and debris from the fire lift and swirl around her, pushing her closer.
“Wait—what’s happening?” she cries, ducking.
Panic I’ve heard a thousand times. It’s never stopped me.
Manipulating the elements is the simplest form of magic, and yet, sweat beads at my hairline as I summon the last drops of power left inside me.
The air crackles, charged with energy that makes my hair stand on end. As the debris pushes her forward, I step in to meet her, my pulse racing in anticipation.
My lips part. My chest heaves. My mind might not have perceived the lost time, but my body has, and my magic is starving.
When the girl is right in front of me, I reach for her, tangling my fingers in her hair.
“Let go!” she cries, struggling. But the moment I make contact with her scalp, she stops, gasping like a drowning swimmer breaking the surface.
I recite the incantation.
“Tua essentia mea fit
Per contactum animam bibo
Quod tuum est, meum erit
Usque ad finem huius ritus.”
Her life force begins to flow into me, thick, warm, and sweet.
She lets out a soft, “Oh,” and shivers, the fight leaving her.
I can taste her energy, feel it flowing into my core. It fills my senses, my soul, every hollow space that a century of dormancy has carved out.
A moan tears from my throat. God, she tastes good. Has feeding always been this good, or is my hunger making her extra sweet?
I keep murmuring the incantation, drinking in her essence, intent on consuming everything she has until my power is full and satisfied.
And then…
Something shifts.
Before I can drain her, a resistance hits me, like pulling against a tether. A sharp pain shoots through my chest, and I gasp, clutching my ribs.
I stand frozen, hands pressed to my sides. Feeding is supposed to strengthen me. It always has. But pain throbs with each heartbeat, foreign and impossible, and for the first time in my life, my body—my magic—betrays me.
Hannah coughs and sinks to her knees on the grass. “What’s…happening…”
I turn my hands over. My fingers have blackened from the feeding, which is normal… So what was that about?
Perhaps my body is ill adjusted after a century of sleep.
I shake out my arms and place a hand on either side of her head to keep draining her.
“Get—off—” she says between gasps, trying to push me away.
The pain surges back harder, making me gasp and stumble back.
The connection between us dies, leaving me gulping down air. The interruption leaves me aching and unsatisfied. The deep well inside me is still dry, holding barely enough magic for a couple of spells.
I turn my back to her and ball my hands into fists, leaving her on her knees.
This isn’t right. Feeding has never hurt me. I have drained people to fill my power every lunar cycle since I was thirteen. What differs this time?
A chill ripples through me. Is this Rebecca’s doing? Either I can’t drink my fill of magic anymore, or I can’t drink my fill from this girl who broke the spell.
Which is it? And why?
The idea of being doomed to live the rest of my life hungry, never being able to feed to satisfaction, sends an icy feeling through me. I’ve never been so vulnerable.
I square my shoulders. I have to find my coven. I need answers—and I need to make Rebecca pay.
I stride away from Hannah and the firepit, looking for this supposed gate that will let me out of here. How I will find my coven in this unfamiliar world is a mystery, but maybe with luck, Fort Langley will still exist. I can start there.
As my numb feet squelch over the grass, I wrinkle my nose. Maybe I can also find shoes along the way.
But as I push through the gate and leave Hannah behind, a strange sensation washes over me, like a tightening in my chest and an unbearable weight crushing me. My thighs quake as I fight to stay standing.
I force one foot in front of the other, my cloak catching the wind as I fight this invisible barrier. Each step feels like walking through thick mud, my muscles screaming in protest.
I reach the front of the house and march down the road, pain stabbing my chest more insistently. I clutch it, gasping for breath.
My knees buckle. I cry out as I hit the ground, my kneecaps cracking against the road that’s as hard as stone.
Something must be holding me here, tethering me to the yard, or the book, or…
My jaw tightens.
To her.
I summon every drop of strength and limp back toward the house. The weight lifts, and by the time I storm through the gate, the tightness in my chest eases. “What have you done to me?” I snarl.
“Me? You just attacked me!” Hannah, too, sounds out of breath. She waves her arms, looking as pale and exhausted as one would expect of someone who nearly had her life force drained.
I hum. No, of course this isn’t her doing. She is too weak and powerless to be doing dark magic.
Which means…
Hannah sways on her feet, her teeth gritted. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you just did, but—”
I throw my hand out toward her. “Silence! I need to think.”
I step closer, and the pulling sensation eases, my strength returning like water rushing back through a drought-stricken riverbed.
“Don’t tell me…”
I back away. A threatening pang returns to my chest.
No. Rebecca wouldn’t… She couldn’t have.
To be certain, I take two more steps back. The pain tightens like a noose.
The truth crashes over me in a cold wave.
Damn you, Rebecca.
Fists clenched, I stalk forward again, circling Hannah. The pain ebbs at once. I breathe more easily. And as my pulse steadies in her proximity, her breath hitches. She feels this invisible tether too, and she’s afraid to say it.
I clench my teeth so hard that my temples throb. Rebecca, that bitch, put a binding spell on me. Not only am I forced to stay close to a fragile, unremarkable human, but I must also keep her alive—because if she dies, so do I.
I cannot drain her to fill my magic, but I cannot leave her either. I’m stuck with her.
I can almost hear Rebecca taunting me. The most powerful witch in the region, perpetually dependent on an ordinary human…
But that hag made a crucial mistake: she left me alive. And if she’s still alive too, then I have until I find her to plan my revenge.
Hannah’s lips part as she catches her breath. She’s not running, just glaring at me with fire in her eyes.
“It appears,” I say, my voice dripping with disdain, “that when you broke the curse that kept me asleep, you unwittingly bound yourself to me.”