Chapter 17 #3
Moments later, the trees thinned abruptly, giving way to a moss-slick boulder perched at the lip of a ravine.
Bridget skidded to a halt, chest heaving.
Moonlight flooded the clearing, casting sharp silver edges across the gnarled roots twisting into the ground.
The ravine beyond yawned wide and black, its depth impossible to gauge.
Quinn nonchalantly leaned against the boulder. With her one hand, she fiddled with the Bloodstone around her neck. Her thick black jacket hung in tatters, the sleeves frayed and streaked with blood and dirt. Her pants were torn at the knees, revealing skin marred by bruises and burn scars.
“You really shouldn’t be out here alone,” Quinn taunted.
Bridget kept her eyes on the ruby red crystal between the Witch’s fingertips.
The rune had been the source of so many of their problems. She’d almost died for it.
It was most likely the thing that had brought the Wraith from Iegorus.
It bound Cade to a future he might not survive.
As long as Quinn had it, none of them were safe. Bridget wasn’t leaving without it.
“You really shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you,” Bridget chided back, taking a cautious step toward her.
A sudden pulse of magic erupted from the Bloodstone, slamming into Bridget’s chest. She flew backward.
Her spine cracked against a tangle of roots as she landed on the ground.
Before she could gasp for air, her body jerked, yanked forward by an invisible force.
Stones and brambles tore at her jacket and bit into her back as she was dragged across the forest floor like a rag doll.
She skidded to stop in front of the boulder, next to Quinn’s feet. Bridget coughed, blinking up through strands of hair as the Bloodstone loomed inches from her face, casting red shadows across Quinn’s sickly features.
“You can’t win, Bee.”
That name again. It clawed at Bridget’s ribs like something half-forgotten and wholly wrong.
Above her, Quinn’s grin stretched wide, deranged and missing more than a few teeth.
The Witch leaned closer. Her breath was sour and uneven, but it wasn’t the smell that made Bridget freeze.
It was the glint of something familiar. A gold chain slipped free from beneath Quinn’s ruined jacket.
Nestled beside the pulsing Bloodstone was her amethyst necklace.
White-hot fury surged through Bridget’s veins.
With a snarl, she slammed her knee into her chest, coiled her body like a spring, and launched her boot straight into Quinn’s face.
Her heel connected with a brutal crack, right between the Witch’s eyes.
Quinn shrieked and reeled backward, slamming into the boulder behind her.
The bloodstone’s glow flickered. The magic holding Bridget’s ankle dissolved instantly.
Rolling to the side, Bridget scrambled to her feet.
Every muscle screamed, but adrenaline overruled pain.
She took a deep breath, only to find Quinn watching her with wide eyes.
Clear wide eyes. Quinn stared at her, dazed and blinking.
The thick, pulsing veins that had clouded her skin just moments ago had thinned to faint lines.
Quinn rubbed the darkening red outline between her eyes and chastised, “You actually followed me? Why?”
The Witch tried to stand up on her own, but her knees trembled. She collapsed against the boulder again.
Bridget’s heart thundered. “You basically lured me out here,” she spat, chest heaving. “Unless I kicked the last working screw out of your head. Why did you call me Bee?”
Quinn’s head snapped toward her, eyes wild. “I didn’t,” she hissed.
Bridget almost pinched herself. Had she fallen into some sort of alternate reality when she’d jumped into the Elder Woods to follow Quinn? Her brain couldn’t bridge the gap between the snarling Blood Witch who’d taunted her through the wall and the trembling girl unable to stand up straight now.
Quinn choked, blood splattering from her lips as she dropped to her knees, clutching her ribs.
Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps.
For a heartbeat, she looked small. Almost like the girl Bridget had once known.
Both stones, the pulsing Bloodstone and the familiar glint of her amethyst necklace, dangled in the open, exposed against Quinn’s chest. Unprotected. Bridget didn’t hesitate.
She lunged forward, eyes locked on the crimson rune. Her fingers closed around the Bloodstone. The moment her skin met the stone, a shock of energy pulsed up her arm.
Suddenly, Quinn’s head snapped up and her eyes blackened in an instant.
The Witch’s hand shot out, clamping around Bridget’s throat. With terrifying ease, she hauled her to her feet. Bridget’s grip on the Bloodstone slipped as Quinn’s fingers tightened around her neck. Black dots bloomed across her vision. Her pulse screamed.
The veins spread again, spidering through Quinn’s face. Just as darkness threatened to swallow Bridget, the Witch released her. She hit the ground hard, coughing and sucking in air.
“That’s better,” Quinn said with a satisfied sigh, rolling her neck
Still gasping for breath, Bridget grunted, “Are you out of your mind?”
A sharp pain pierced her temple.
Where are you?
A hint of panic was laced in Cade’s thundering voice. She closed her eyes and pictured her path through the forest. Blood dripped down her nose. Seconds later, his presence disappeared.
Quinn let out a humorless laugh. “Let me guess, someone is missing you.” She tilted her head. “That puckered confusion on your face isn’t becoming. It’s going to give you wrinkles.”
Bridget wiped the blood from her lip and stood. Her voice was hoarse but steady. “Are you serious right now? I’m not the one changing personalities every few seconds.”
Once her spine straightened, Bridget launched herself at Quinn, driving her back into the moss-covered boulder with a satisfying crack.
Without hesitation, she twisted and swept her foot beneath the Witch’s ankles, sending them both crashing to the ground.
Bridget grunted as Quinn’s elbow slammed into her ribs, knocking the wind from her lungs.
Before she could recover, Quinn shoved her to her back and pinned her with a knee to the chest.
“No, you’re just the one refusing to stay levelheaded long enough to ask the right questions,” Quinn hissed.
Gritting her teeth, Bridget managed to lift Quinn’s knee an inch off her, but another wave of magic from the Bloodstone rolled through her body, short-circuiting her strength. Her arms flailed uselessly to the sides.
“C’mon,” Quinn purred, her weight pressing harder into Bridget’s sternum. “I know you can think of something clever.”
The words heated Bridget’s blood. She was crazy.
Absolutely crazy. But they did need answers.
And the moment Cade finally arrived, he would probably kill her.
She reached blindly to her side and found a broken tree branch.
With a snarl, she swung it upward and cracked it against Quinn’s neck. The Witch went flying.
Gasping, Bridget stumbled to her feet and pressed her hand to the boulder for support. Her ribs screamed in protest. “How did you bring those creatures here?” she demanded, her breath ragged. “The curse isn’t broken. They shouldn’t even exist outside Iegorus.”
Quinn spat to the side, blood mixing with the dirt. “They’re not from Iegorus,” she said, voice rough and gravel-laced. “I created them. Tuathans can’t resist the power blood magic gives them. Wraiths are what happens when there’s nothing left to give.”
The Wraith was Tuathan?
“How? There’s hardly any left and they all live in the palace.”
Instead of answering, Quinn just smirked. The Bloodstone began to glow. Again, an invisible hand pulled Bridget to the Witch. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
Us?
Panic sprung up Bridget’s spine. This time, when she reached Quinn, Bridget had her fist ready.
She knocked Quinn in the temple and pushed her toward the boulder.
Whatever she’d done with her foot had changed Quinn.
And it needed to be repeated. Grabbing the Witch by the collar, Bridget shoved her as hard as she could into the stone.
Quinn’s skull cracked against the stone with a sharp sound that echoed through the clearing. Her body crumpled. Veins rippled on her face like black lightning. Eventually, Quinn stuttered, “Bridget.”
Suddenly, the trees swayed as wind began to swirl around them. Cade. He was close.
“What happened to you?” Bridget asked. Because two minds seemed to be fighting for control. She couldn’t help but feel an ache in her bones for someone so lost and controlled by magic. A place she never wanted to be again.
Still struggling, Quinn shakily bared her teeth. “You,” she snarled. Wrapping her hand around the Bloodstone, Quinn muttered a spell under her breath. Darkness began to glow under her skin. A crack reverberated the air. She was leaving.
“No,” Bridget breathed, reaching to stop her. They needed the Bloodstone. They needed more answers. But before Bridget could blink again, Quinn had disappeared.
A hazy cloud of magic lingered in the spot Quinn had been standing. Bridget let out a frustrated scream and tried to sweep her fingers through it. But strong, familiar arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her back.
“The spell is about to be reactivated,” Cade said breathlessly. “If you’re out here when that happens, you’ll be trapped with the Wraith.”
“No,” Bridget repeated angrily. As Cade pulled her through the woods, she struggled in his tight grip. “We can’t let her get away again.”
“She’s already gone.”