CHAPTER 24
Rue
None other than Lance Lacroix strides over the vampire’s body, a predatory smile on his face. “Hello, Rue. It’s so nice to see you again,” he says, his tone mocking.
Kathan takes a menacing step toward Lance, his eyes flashing gold as his wolf rises to the surface. “Take another step toward my mate and I will end you.”
“Ah, Kathan,” Lance mutters, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth like saying his name is displeasing. “You know, I actually would like to thank you,” he pauses and there’s a gleam in his eye that has alarm bells ringing inside my head. “Well, your sister, really.”
Kathan’s eyes blaze with fury, and the veins in his neck bulge from restraint. “Don’t. You. Dare. Mention. Her.”
Lance continues on, completely unfazed by the rage vibrating off my grumpy wolf. “Because without Kallie unwillingly sacrificing herself, and showing me I needed to strive harder for the things I want, I never would’ve discovered my true purpose.” He chuckles, swiping a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, and that’s when several things happen at once.
Slade lets out a string of curses in French while Caylix and Rhys ready themselves for a fight. Kathan explodes with a roar that morphs from man to beast as he shifts into his wolf, charging at Lance before anyone can stop him. He doesn’t get very far, somehow frozen mid lunge as if stopped by an unseen force.
A woman glowing bright gold appears in the distance, steadily making her way closer to us, flanked by two random witches. I don’t know how, but I know without a doubt this is the mystery woman who had me kidnapped, despite having never seen her face before now. Her power calls to mine with a familiar tug.
Her eyes are glued to Kathan, though, as she twists her hand and my mate drops to the ground, lifeless.
“No!” I scream, rushing forward. I’m off the steps in an instant, my arm outstretched toward Kathan, but a hand yanks me back before I can reach him. The scent of fresh linen surrounds me as I round on Caylix, but a yelp stops me in my tracks.
Several ferals have surrounded us in a blink. One has Dar’tha‘s arm pulled behind her to the point I’m afraid it might snap. Whatever magic she was attempting to cast fizzles out in her palm. Rhys and Slade work as a team to take a few down, but another phases into their place, subduing Rhys first then gang up on Slade, their sheer numbers overpowering the vampire lord. Arya, Ian, and Calisto fight as valiantly as Rhys and Slade, but in the end, they’re knocked out cold.
The ferals drag everyone into the center of the property, directly in front of Caylix and I who are the only ones not restrained. Yet. Something tells me it’s on purpose.
The slight rise and fall of Kathan’s chest is the only reason I’m not charging into the fray, damn the consequences. Well, that and Caylix’s tight grip around my wrist like he can sense how badly I want to go to the others.
This is so not hexin’ good.
The golden glowing woman comes to a halt in front of us and it’s as if I’m staring into a mirror at an older, hardened version of myself. Depravity dances in her eyes like a macabre puppet show. “Hello, little sister.”
Out of everything she could’ve said, that’s the one thing I least expected. I reel back in shock like I’ve been slapped, and I guess mentally, I have been. That’s when I notice the other two witches flanking her aren’t random witches. It’s Tessa and Darcy. My former best friends. Tessa’s eyes meet mine, devoid of the warmth they once held. Darcy’s normally bright face is clouded with a sly satisfaction.
A shard of ice spears me through the heart, and it twists when the four of them laugh at my confusion—a cruel chorus that sends dread racing to my gut. “Rue,” Lance says through his laughter, a smirk gracing his cruel lips. “You’ve met Tessa and Darcy, obviously, but I don’t think you’ve met your charming sister yet, have you? Priscilla, this is Rue. Rue, meet Priscilla. My mates.”
Oh, hell’s bells. They’re all mated? This is insanity.
“No. You’re wrong. I don’t have a sister,” I challenge, my voice wavering as I fight to control the emotions threatening to spill over.
“You can deny all you want, but it’s the truth, and you know it because you can feel it,” Priscilla snaps. Her golden aura pulsates with power, but it’s all wrong. Warped and twisted and vile. It grates across my skin, assessing. The intrusion sets my teeth on edge, and in response, my own magic rises to the surface as if coaxed out by hers.
I shake my head, unwilling to believe it even though the facts are staring me in the smudgin’ face. Literally. “My parents may have died when I was younger, but I think I’d remember having a sister.”
Priscilla grits her teeth. “Our parents threw me away. They cast me out when they discovered my potential. Because they were afraid of me.” She places her hand in Lance’s, gazing at him with stars in her eyes. “I guess they were right to be.”
My mind races to catch up, trying futilely to piece together the fragments of information.
My knees are heavy like they might give out any second. The only thing stopping me from collapsing is Caylix’s strong hold on me.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, sweet Rue,” Lance says, brushing an imaginary dust off his tailored jacket. He gestures toward Dar’tha. “By now, you’ve learned of the prophecy. With mine, your sister’s, and your best friends’ combined power, we’ll turn all these immortal blood suckers into the obedient army they should’ve been all along. Finally, we’ll get to put them in their fucking places.”
His statement hits me like a sledgehammer as the missing pieces of the puzzle finally connect. Two halflings, one to save the vampire race and one to doom them.
Again, I search Priscilla’s face and the resemblance is hard to ignore. Her eyes are the same striking blue as mine, and we share the same brown hair, although hers is duller. But where my features are soft, hers are sharp and cunning.
How could my parents have hidden something like this? Did they truly cast out their own daughter for her magic?
Despite knowing deep down my words will have zero impact, I have to try. After all, I had no idea she existed and a part of me, the lonely part, wants to know my sister, if that’s what she actually is. Not destroy her, like the prophecy states. “Priscilla,” I start softly. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. The loneliness you must’ve endured. Trust me, I can relate, but this isn’t right. Don’t do this.”
She scoffs, her golden aura flashing. “Don’t pretend you know anything about me or my pain, little sister. I’ve embraced the power our cowardly parents tried to suppress, thanks to Lance’s guidance. The only thing still standing in our way is you and your pathetic ragtag group of friends.”
Caylix growls next to me, his grip tightening. His anger is palpable, fueling my own. Hundreds of howls echo in the distance and a small smile tilts Caylix’s lips. He must’ve used the pack link to call for backup. Smart man. “This is an act of war, Lance, which means I have grounds to kill you. You will face the wrath of the Cursed Moon Pack.”
Lance’s face morphs as he drops the carefree mask, allowing us to see the monster within. “You’ll be dead before your silly little mutts ever arrive, and then I’ll kill them all too.”
“Yesss,” Priscilla purrs, her fingers dancing along Lance’s arm, “Our new world begins now.”
With a burst of vampiric speed, Slade manages to break free from his captor, but another lunges, snapping his neck. Even though I know that’s not enough to kill him, an enraged scream tears from my throat.
That’s it. I’ve had enough of this brewshit. No one hurts my mates and gets away with it.
But before I can react, there’s a sickening crackle in the air, and the sky above us darkens. Tessa and Darcy step forward, muttering words I don’t understand, but I recognize the power signature. Higher magic.
Curses, I should’ve known that would play a role in this.
Higher magic twists those that use it, which is why it’s so dangerous. Their eyes glow as they chant in unison, sparks of magic flying from their fingertips.
As Lance and Priscilla join in, their voices blend into one, creating a dissonant harmony of malevolent energy. It twines around us, whispering promises of suffering and chaos as their power threatens to shatter the peace of life as we know it.
Rhys struggles against the ferals, his hands partially shifted into claws as he swipes at them, but it’s no use.
Priscilla reaches for the dagger at her waist, cutting a line into her palm. She spills her blood onto the ground as she chants, her golden power leaching into the higher magic, adding an extra layer to whatever spell they’re attempting to cast.
Two new ferals phase to either side of me and Caylix, readying to attack. Caylix growls in anger, his eyes fixed on the enemy at his side, his muscles tense as he awaits the assault. Except, when the ferals pounce, they both go for Caylix and he’s not expecting the ambush. Despite him fighting hard, they manage to drag him away, depositing him alongside the others.
Now I’m alone, watching in horror at the sight in front of me.
The ground where Priscilla’s blood is falling is black, like a raging inferno scorched the earth, and the longer they chant, the farther it’s spreading, bringing along the scent of sulfur.
The sky flashes with a sickly shade of red and orange, casting an eerie glow on everyone. Hissing and snarling echo through the trees as the spell continues, agitating the ferals.
Dar’tha‘s eyes meet mine and she nods at me as if to say it’s up to you now.
Me?
Oh, hags. Not good.
Every fiber of my being screams at me to run. To get everyone far away from this madness, and this maelstrom of dark magic swirling around us. But then I see Caylix and Rhys raging against a tide of ferals in their attempt to get to me. I see Kathan and Slade, motionless, but alive on the ground. I see Arya and her mates, knocked out cold, defenseless. And I know it’s not possible.
Instead, I have to put my big witch panties on and save everyone. They’ve rescued me plenty, in more ways than one, and now it’s my turn.
I close my eyes, trusting my magic to know what to do, even though it’s been locked away for twenty-three years. Summoning every ounce of courage within me, I open my eyes and step forward. The ground beneath me vibrates with the power that Lance, my sister, and my wicked ex-besties are spewing forth.
Standing before them, my surroundings fade into nothingness and all that remains is their ominous chanting and the trembling of the ground beneath me. The energy swells and twists, growing heavier and more suffocating by the second, as if it could crush me with its sheer force.
Not deterred, I focus on the inner well inside myself, reaching out to touch it gently at first, like a puppy exploring the world with tentative paws. It responds to my touch with a gentle pulse, then it’s as if a floodgate is opened, overwhelming me. The air crackles around me, humming with power as my magic rushes to the surface. It’s like a trapped beast sensing freedom for the first time ever.
Out of my peripheral vision, I notice the ferals faltering, but my magic isn’t enough to sway them to my side entirely. Especially because observing them breaks my concentration and everything I’d been building fizzles out.
Lance’s chuckle breaks through the chanting. “See? Told you she’s weak. But just in case...”
Thanks to Slade and my newfound fae side, my senses are sharper, and it’s the only reason I notice the feral phasing at me. I duck out of his reach, but manage to cut my palm on something sharp as I roll away from him. Ouch, that hurt. They make it seem so painless in movies and books when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
The feral attacking me stops, sniffing the air. His creepy red eyes snap to me as if seeing me for the first time. “Beacon,” it says, voice so guttural, if I hadn’t heard it before, I’d have no idea what he was saying.
A drop of my blood splatters on the ground, causing a hissing sound when it touches the blackness sprawling beneath me. A tiny patch of green branches out from that spot and that’s when it hits me. Priscilla is using her blood, too. I can’t fight fire with fire. I have to fight fire with water. Or blood with blood. Whatever.
Summoning my magic once more, I allow it to flow from my fingertips, feeling the coolness of it seep into the earth. The droplets of blood shimmer, and the blackness surrounding them retreats in a pulsating wave of vibrant green.
“Get her, damn it!” Lance’s voice echoes through the air, filled with rage. The feral creature lunges for me once again, its teeth bared and claws extended. His putrid breath smacks me in the face.
“No!” I shout, channeling all of my power into that one word. In an instant, the snarling feral halts mid-stride, frozen in place by my command. Almost like the not-so-feral that day at the cabin. Is there a correlation? Do I have some sort of sway over these creatures?
The other ferals around us also hesitate, their bodies twitching agitatedly, as if torn between us.
“How?” Lance’s voice is filled with disbelief, but also a hint of fear. He attempts to call upon the feral again, but it doesn’t move, staring at me intently as if waiting for my next order. I hate the slimy feeling it gives me, but at least it’s not attacking. For now. I’m not sure how long I can hold it off. “Priscilla, baby,” Lance purrs. “It’s time for plan B.”
My sister beams at Lance, a wicked gleam in her eye as her words morph into something sinister. All of my hair stands on end, and instantly, I know whatever is about to happen isn’t good. Immediately, Tessa and Darcy glance at one another in confusion, and their chant stops as if they come to the same conclusion as me.
A whip of gold lashes out from Priscilla into my two ex-besties, who let out blood-curdling cries as her twisted magic sears into them. The sound of their screams will haunt me every day for the rest of my life, if I even survive this, alongside the terror and anguish in their eyes as they realize they’re being betrayed.
Thinking on my feet, I attempt to send a tendril of magic to counteract Priscilla’s, but she bats it away like it’s nothing but a simple annoyance. I fight harder to worm my way in and disrupt her magic, but it’s no use. A tear slips down my cheek as I watch the life being drained out of my former friends, powerless to stop it.
In the next instant, their screams stop and their lifeless bodies drop to the ground, their life’s essence flowing through Priscilla into Lance, making them that much more powerful.
I choke back a sob at the empty, glassy look in their eyes. They were witches with a capital W, yes, but they didn’t deserve this. To be turned into some kind of hexed up sacrifice in my sister and Lance’s messed up pursuit of power.
The sky is almost blood red now, fitting, I guess, and the sun has been completely blotted out by their spell. Something deep in my bones tells me that if I’m going to stop this, I need to do something. And I need to do it now.
Fueled by Tessa and Darcy’s sacrifice, the ferals listen to Lance when he smirks in my direction and says, “Kill them all. Start with her mates.”
I see red.
“No! You will not harm them!”
I slam my hands against the ground, sending out a pulse of energy that ripples through the earth, catching everyone off guard. The ferals stumble back, momentarily stunned by the sudden onslaught. As I take advantage of their confusion, jumping to my feet and sprinting toward Lance and Priscilla, I hope and pray that my mates will do the same. But I can’t focus on them or the chaos breaking out around me.
This is between me, my so-called sister, and Lance.
Lance’s eyes widen in surprise, but he recovers quickly, raising a hand to call a feral to his defense. My heart races as I dodge the creature’s attack, using my newfound speed and agility to my advantage. I refuse to let Lance and Priscilla harm the ones I love. Not after all they’ve done for me. My mates, Arya, everyone. They made me feel at home right from the start and nothing and no one is taking that from me.
With a burst of renewed energy, I ram my fist into Lance’s face. My form is not pretty. Actually, it’s sloppy at best, and my hand hexin’ hurts like a son of a witch, but my, oh my, the shock on his face makes it worth it.
I notice movement behind Lance and find Kathan in wolf form as he prowls toward us, teeth bared. Relief floods through me to see him up and moving. As he readies himself to strike, I distract Lance with a jolt of magic in an attempt to knock him off balance.
A flash of gold surrounds him and it slides right off. Priscilla’s laugh grates on my nerves.
“You think you can defeat us?” he jeers, his voice filled with malice.
“I don’t think I can, I know,” I respond as Kathan pounces. Kathan bites down hard into Lance’s shoulder, blood pooling around his mouth. For a moment, fear flashes across Lance’s face.
Good, I think. He should be afraid.
The momentum from Kathan’s attack sends them sprawling forward, the full weight of Kathan’s wolf landing on top of him.
The howls from the wolves of the Cursed Moon Pack grow louder and, for a second, I swear I hear their paws pounding against the earth, but they’re still too far away. Back up won’t make it in time.
As I glance at my mates, everything is absolute mayhem. Blood is spilling everywhere on both sides. Kathan and Lance are still struggling for dominance. Dar’tha fights her foes with a mix of her dagger and magic. Slade is awake, and looks relatively unscathed but Arya, who he’s helping fight off a feral, is covered in blood. Rhys and Caylix work in tandem with Ian and Calisto, their wolves mighty and majestic, but even their movements are beginning to slow.
The tide of battle is not in our favor. It’s a bloodbath. And for what?
So much needless death and destruction. It ends now.
With a surge of adrenaline, I focus all of my remaining energy on stopping Priscilla. I call upon every ounce of magic within me, channeling my inner strength to protect and save everyone.
My magic seeps out of me, racing to combine with hers. The air crackles between us, and for a split second, her spell wavers. Fueled by the knowledge I’m finally gaining a foothold, I fully unleash myself, and the force of my magic ripples through the air, enveloping Lance, Priscilla, and the remaining ferals in a cacophony of magical energy.
Red explodes out of me, so bright I’m blinded by it momentarily. Wave after wave of energy escapes me, and it doesn’t slow or stop. The spell I once thought unstoppable is now breaking apart, unable to withstand the force of my unbridled power.
A rage-filled shriek reaches me seconds before pain explodes through my stomach as something sharp is thrust into me. Distantly, I register it’s a dagger, and it’s wielded by my sister, but now that my magic has been unshackled, there seems to be no stopping the bomb I’ve just unleashed and it’s taking every ounce of my focus.
I stumble backward, clutching at the wound in my stomach. The world is going haywire, and so am I. My vision clears enough to see Priscilla, her eyes radiating indignation and fury, her palm still around the hilt of the dagger sticking out of me. She watches me fall to the ground, her face twisted in a triumphant smile, and she wrenches it out of me.
Howls of grief echo out of my wolves. Slade bellows in anguish as they all fight to get to me.
Another burst of magic crests out of me and this time, the ferals drop to the ground, unconscious. Kathan’s battle with Lance comes to an end when Lance makes a careless move and Kathan’s jaws snap around his throat, tearing it out in one swift jerk. Priscilla screams and lunges for them, but she doesn’t make it far. A hand punches through her chest as Slade rips her heart out, ending her life.
My blood flows out of me, across the ground, healing the damage Lance and Priscilla have caused. Wolves burst into the yard, seemingly confused at what’s happening here.
I glance at the sky, noting the normal color is returning. Rhys drops to his knees next to me, brushing a piece of my hair out of my face. I try to smile, but the effort is weak. The wound in my stomach aches like a thousand needles stabbing me. “Rue! Stay with me, Rue!”
“Is it over?” I whisper, my voice tired and wobbly. “Did I save everyone?”
Kathan’s face appears in my line of sight. “You did, sunshine. You did,” he says, sinking to the ground and grabbing my hand.
Why is it so cold? Are my teeth chattering?
Caylix presses his hands over my stomach, attempting to staunch the bleeding. “Slade! Get over here. Now,” he roars. “She needs you.”
Slade is at my side in an instant and relief washes over me that they’re all safe. “I’m here, mon trésor. One moment and I’ll get you right as rain.“ His fangs descend as he bites into his wrist before pressing it against my lips. His blood flows into me, my body accepting it gratefully. I feel the warmth of his blood seeping through my veins, mending me already.
All too soon, I feel the familiar effects of his blood creep in, and combined with the fact I’m already so weak and tired... my eyes close and everything goes dark.