Chapter 36
GREY
It only took Lyra two hours to text me. I expected it to be some long-winded apology, but it only said to meet her at the church and bring the book so she could remove the collar.
My hands shook with anger as I reread the message. I slammed my phone down and watched it shatter into a thousand tiny pieces all over the Dutchman parking lot.
She knew just what to say to get me to the church, and once she removed the collar, she’d be free of me. I wouldn’t be so lucky. She’d etched herself so profoundly into me that her presence went deeper than the ink of my tattoos. It was carved into my bones.
I tried to start my car. Click-click-click-click. Fuck me. The starter must be bad. I punched my fist against the steering wheel.
I guess I was walking.
Thirty minutes later I pushed open the church door, only to find it empty.
I stepped inside, an unnatural coldness brushing against my skin.
It was a warning to any who entered, and I was acutely aware of the dangers lurking in the dark.
Hellhounds, wraiths, and whatever the fuck else decided to show up.
The church was a beacon for the supernatural.
The pew creaked and groaned, echoing into the darkness as I plopped myself down and waited.
“Hello?” a timid voice called, but it didn’t belong to Lyra. I turned to find big brown doe eyes staring at me.
Kenna Whitethorn hovered at the threshold of the church.
My lightning flared, ready to strike if she advanced. But she just stood there and stared.
“Is Lyra here?” she asked, looking around the church.
“No, but she should be here soon. Are you meeting her here too?” Bold move for a witch who thought I murdered this girl’s father a few hours ago. The entire Whitethorn bloodline could be wiped out in a single night.
Kenna nodded slowly and narrowed her bloodshot eyes. A daughter mourning the loss of a father, even if he was a fucking psychopath.
Thankfully, they looked nothing alike. Kenna was frighteningly beautiful. A collection of sharp lines and striking features. It almost hurt to look at her for too long.
“Let me try to call her,” Kenna said, refusing to step away from the door. Smart girl to keep her distance. Maybe Lyra could learn a thing or two about survival instinct from her.
I sat, simmering with anger, as the soft shuffle of footsteps grew louder, signaling that Kenna was approaching.
A blinding pain dug into my shoulder. I gasped at the stinging sensation. I reached back, my fingers fumbling for the source of pain and grazed the handle of a dagger. The moment my fingers touched it, searing-hot pain spread through my hand.
Fuck. The bitch literally stabbed me in the back.
I thrashed, trying to remove the dagger, but the blade was spelled.
Magic could suck a fucking dick.
“I’m disappointed in you, Grey. All it took was another pretty face.” Kenna bent down, meeting my stare as she twisted the dagger, and magic tore from the wound.
I couldn’t control my lightening as it tried to rid my body of the intrusive magic. The collar may have been weakened, but with this much electricity it had nowhere else to go but back into my system.
Darkness threatened to take me, but before everything went black, the church door slammed shut, sealing me inside.
“I didn’t kill your father,” I gritted out.
“I know.” She smiled sweetly. “I did.”