Chapter Thirty-Six
Katherine’s body was on fire.
She felt like she’d been run over by a truck, hit by a subway train, thrown off a boat, drowned, dragged back up, and dumped on a shitty cot in a room she never imagined spending more than five minutes in.
She was in Aestas’ cell. Her magic choked under the weight of the room’s wards—strengthened, she was sure, by Sylvia’s newfound power.
She tried to push herself into a seated position on the bed, but her body fought back, her chest tightening as her bones all seemed to simultaneously disintegrate.
She forced herself through it, stopping as she made it up to swallow down vomit.
When the nausea and pain finally downgraded to only somewhat agonizing, she stood, then staggered over to the cooler along the wall. She pulled out a bottle of water and downed it in one gulp, then grabbed a second. There was a sandwich inside, but she didn’t think she could stomach food right now.
Her Prozac was there too, the prescription bottle tucked securely in the corner. She pulled out one of the pills and swallowed it, the motion rote.
She knew who had thought to put those pills there. She hated that her heart jumped at the thought that Sylvia still cared about her well-being.
Sylvia had killed Lily and stolen her magic. A life lost in pursuit of something so inconsequential as power.
Katherine couldn’t even fathom the concept of wanting her unsettled magic back.
Yes, she’d been able to do anything, without the constraints of runes or blood, but the cost was astronomical.
To constantly worry that a moment of frustration or sadness would result in catastrophe—it was no way to live.
Sylvia, apparently, disagreed.
She should have predicted this, Katherine thought, as she grabbed the first-aid kit that sat near the cooler and worked on bandaging her hand.
Sylvia had never had a big snap when she was unsettled.
She’d always talked of those days with fondness, not fear—especially as she’d struggled with her waning power.
The logical part of Katherine knew it was a massive jump to think that any of that would lead to this. But the irrational part of her was already building piles of guilt, waves that would drown her again and again and again. She should’ve seen it. She should’ve stopped it.
Katherine wondered if Sylvia had been planning this.
Had she eyed every unsettled witch who came to Aestas over the years, deciding if this would be the one she’d take?
Or was Lily simply a victim of circumstance?
A consequence of a fleeting idea that had crossed Sylvia’s mind when her enemy reared its ugly head once again?
Was it truly an accident, or had she known Lily would die?
Did it matter?
Katherine capped her water and stumbled back to the bed, collapsing on the cot. This was all so supremely fucked. A cascading series of events resulting in the worst possible outcome, and there wasn’t anything Katherine could do to fix it.
God, she was going to—
To what? she thought bitterly. She’d thrown enough criminals into this room to know that she wasn’t getting out until someone chose to let her out, and that wouldn’t happen until Sylvia found a way to ensure she stayed silent about everything she learned.
She wondered why Sylvia hadn’t killed her yet.
Maybe that was a bridge too far. Maybe some lingering part of Sylvia’s conscience still cared about Katherine enough to buy her a reprieve.
Or maybe Sylvia had bigger plans for her, and she was stuck here until everything somehow got even worse.
The door creaked open.
Worse it was.
The one positive thing about seeing Byron Chambers’ face leaning against the doorframe was that he still looked like shit.
The bruises on his face were now a deep purple—she couldn’t have been out for more than a day or two if they were still that fresh—and he was walking with a slight limp.
Any guilt for doing that to him disappeared, burned away by the pure anger of her situation.
Byron’s caster rested heavy in his pocket, a casual reminder that he still had magic and she did not. She’d pulled that same move dozens of times, flexing her power for people who she knew with bone-deep certainty were guilty.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
She didn’t bother giving him a response—she was exhausted, and the mere act of speaking seemed like an insurmountable effort. It didn’t matter, anyway. This conversation was for him, not her. He wouldn’t bother to check that she was a willing participant.
“Just wanted to stop by and tell you that I’ve taken over your gig.
Executor Byron Chambers.” Katherine hid a flinch as Byron kept gassing on.
“You know, I never saw myself stooping so low as a spot on the coven’s board, but considering the direction Aestas has gone over the last few years, I think it’s past time someone of a …
higher caliber took over. Don’t you agree? ”
She leveled him with a glare, but didn’t offer any further response.
“Fine, you don’t want to play.” Byron walked further into the room, reaching into the cooler and taking out the sandwich that had been left for her.
He unwrapped it and took a slow bite, then made a face of disgust and spat the food into the trash can, throwing her only accessible meal on top of it.
“Let’s get right down to business, then,” he said, as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “On behalf of Aestas Coven, I’m here to tell you that you have officially been charged with the murder of Lily Woodson.”
Katherine ground her teeth.
“Nothing to say to that?”
She forced it all down, instead just giving him a small smile. “Thanks for the update.”
Byron’s grin twisted as he took a step closer to her. “One more update, as you call it. Vikrant Khatri is dead.”
Not what Katherine expected to hear. Not something going wrong for her, but something going wrong for—
Silas.
That her first thought was of the gut-wrenching sadness he must be drowning in was telling. She’d avoided thinking about her feelings since they’d slept together, but they were clearly there, rooted in her chest, tiny seeds that would grow into a massive tree if she let them.
“How did he die?” she asked.
“Official story is a heart attack. But…”
Byron gave her that sick smile again, and Katherine’s stomach bottomed out.
“Well, let’s just say people reported his son seemed a little … unsettled … when he returned back to New York.”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
The spell to check that the wards had been fixed. Silas and Sylvia had joined their magic. She had fed unsettled magic to him. More than he knew. More than he’d been able to handle.
It wasn’t enough for Sylvia to ruin Lily’s life. Katherine’s.
She had to ruin the Khatri family too.
There was no stopping the anger this time, the surge of rage pushing Katherine’s battered body toward Byron before she even had a chance to piece together a rational thought.
He didn’t bother using magic when he slammed her back down against the bed—she was weak enough that his fists sufficed.
He laughed as her spine banged against the wall, then walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.
Katherine screamed. She kept screaming until her voice was gone, until her throat felt torn by razor blades.
She was going to get out of here, and she was going to destroy Sylvia for what she’d done.