The girl’s companion moves a hand to the back of her neck and guides her down to her knees.
For a moment I am paralyzed by fear, my horror seizing up my limbs.
What the fuck is going on?
My eyes move from witch to witch, but none of them look anxious or agitated.
Why do they not look worried?
“Join hands once more, sisters,” the priestess says, stepping into the circle with the two guests of honor.
My heart feels like it’s in my throat as I clasp the palms of the women around me, sealing the circle. Magic thickens in the air.
I must be misunderstanding something. Surely I am.
The priestess lifts her arms and speaks once more in Latin. “I call on the darkness and the old, hungry gods who will bear witness to my deeds.”
She drops her hands and reaches into her robe. From it she pulls a gleaming ceremonial blade.
As the priestess speaks, she lifts a ceremonial blade in one of her joined hands.
Holy fuck, who gave her a knife?
My gaze sweeps over the rest of the circle. Several witches are swaying, and the eyes I can make out in the dim room look a bit glazed, but not one of them appears surprised or uneasy.
Why is no one else freaking out?
Pulling the collar of her robe down, the priestess brings the blade to her sternum. And then she drags it down. I see skin split, hear cloth tear, and when the first drops of it hit the marble floor inside the circle, my magic senses it, rising in my veins like a leviathan, eager to draw on the fluid. And that smell, that earlier smell that’s plagued me, I recognize it now—
Dark magic.
It oozes into the air, drifting up like smoke.
The priestess touches her fingers to her wound. Once she’s coated them, she approaches the girl, removing the latter’s mask.
“With blood I bind,” the priestess says in English, marking the girl’s forehead with her blood. “With bone I break. Only through death shall I at last forsake.”
At the center of the circle, the girl whimpers, then begins to scream.
No.
I drop my hands from those of my sisters, and the circle’s collective magic dissipates away with a whoosh as I rush for the girl.
I don’t know what I’m doing, only that I should’ve stopped earlier, when the blade came out, or the dark magic, or hell, even when they mentioned pulling from the darkness of the earth. This situation is all sorts of fucked up, and no amount of money is worth whatever is going on.
I knock the priestess aside before dropping to my knees in front of the girl, distantly aware of the priestess shouting as she loses her balance, her knife clattering out of her hands.
I grab the girl by the hands, terrified for her.
The girl’s robed companion turns to me, and from beneath the mask comes a monstrous hiss.
On instinct, my magic lashes out, slamming into the figure and throwing them back.
Empress? Memnon’s voice speaks into my head.
Crap. Not him. Not now.
“What the fuck are you doing, Selene!” Kasey yells, coming toward me.
I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing, and this shifter is probably an adult who agreed to this, and maybe I’ve gotten everything wrong, but her pupils are blown, and she’s making wolfish whimpering noises, and I will fucking fight anyone who comes between me and her.
“You’re okay,” I whisper to her, and I wrap an arm under her shoulders and help her rise to her feet.
She sways, placing most of her weight on me. I feel her lean closer and breathe in my scent, reminding me of Kane.
Must be a wolf thing.
Around us, the women are shifting and murmuring, and for the first time this evening, they’re starting to look nervous. A few of them have moved over to the priestess, helping her up and trying to staunch the flow of blood from her wound.
“Come on,” I whisper softly, urging the girl to move.
If I can get her up the stairs and into my residence hall, I can get her proper help.
“Creature,” the priestess calls out, “avenge me.”
Across from us, the shifter’s original companion now rises from where they fell. Only now, their hood has slipped off, revealing a pale gray face, smooth, lusterless skin, and eyes that are entirely black. Though it resembles a person, it’s not human. It doesn’t even seem to have a life force at all.
Along its forehead is a single word, one that’s been scrawled into its skin, written in…in…
Aramaic, my mind whispers to me.
Before I can make out what that word is, the creature rushes us.
All around me, witches gasp.
I throw my magic at the creature, pulling power from the ground just like the priestess instructed. It feels like taking a large breath, then forcing out a powerful exhale. The soft orange plume of my magic leaves me, barreling across the room. It slams into the being, knocking it off its feet and into the stone wall behind it.
Its body makes a dull cracking sound, and the creature collapses in a heap.
Empress, what is going on?
“You fucking fool,” the priestess says to me. To the creature, she calls out, “Creature, repair yourself.”
The being begins to move, but it’s no natural movement. Things are jerking and shifting beneath its robe.
My hold on the girl tightens, and I back us up.
The shifter moans, drawing my attention away from the room for a moment.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to her.
“Don’t…feel…so good…” she mumbles, leaning her head against me.
The girl is sweating and trembling and very obviously intoxicated with a drug or a spell or both.
I can barely think over the pounding in my heart. “Can you run?” I whisper. “Or shift?” I’ll take an intoxicated wolf over this room of witches any day.
“Ungh,” she says, her head seeming to roll on her shoulders.
I think that’s a no.
I head toward one of the lit passages branching from the room.
“Oh no, you don’t,” the priestess calls. “Leave if you want, but the wolf is mine.”
Her magic fills the air, and when I turn to her, her mask is gone. Blood still drips down her chest, and I can still smell the remnants of the dark magic tinging the air. Dark magic I participated in.
“Release the girl,” she orders. Beyond her, the creature’s body is still shifting and making unsettling scraping noises.
I back up, dragging the poor shifter along with me. Unfortunately, the lit passage is close to the priestess’s…whatever that thing is.
The priestess takes a step toward me. “Witch, you have one last warning: release the shifter.”
Something is obviously really wrong here. Something more than just shady.
Something evil.
I messed up by being here in the first place, and I messed up again by not stepping in sooner. But over my dead body is this creep of a woman touching the girl.
My expression hardens as I look at her. “No.”
The priestess draws in a long breath. Then, spreading her hands like she’s encompassing the room, she says, “Sisters, Creature, get me the wolf.”
The entire room of masked figures charges me.
My fear spikes—
Empress, what is going on? I could swear Memnon’s voice sounds alarmed, but maybe those are my own emotions talking.