I walked through the halls, unable to find any sort of rest despite the midnight hour. I knew without a doubt that the odds were great it
wasn’t safe for me to be walking through the abandoned halls, but as I dragged my hand over the stone walls of the school, I couldn’t seem to force myself to care.
There was something so peaceful about the halls being empty, something soothing and calming about thinking of my aunt following that same path all those years ago.
Had my dream of her been real? Had it been the exact moment of her death that I’d somehow dream-walked into?
The Hecate line had been known for prophecy and metaphysical magic far more elusive than the more tangible magics of the elements the other lines favored. The cosmic witches focused on divination even more intensely, but the ways they channeled the stars to tell them the stories of the future were far different from the Hecate way of hearing whispers from the ghosts of our ancestors.
From the bones of Charlotte herself.
But I didn’t yet have the bones, had no connection to Charlotte aside from my distant, removed blood that was just as far removed as the Covenant. But whereas my relation to Susannah filled me with some of my greatest shame, the connection to the brave witch who had started it all was my source of pride.
The image of her walking through the forest at night filled me with a sudden rush, her deep auburn hair blowing in the wind as her cloak fluttered
about at her feet. She was younger than I’d imagined. Something dark glimmered in the distance in front of her. The figure of a man waited for her at the edge of the trees, and the magic pulsing off him was dark.
Stained with death and decay, he held out a hand for the young witch.
She spun, and her eyes connected with mine in a moment of shock. It was the same feeling I’d had when Loralei stared at me and spoke. Even though Charlotte didn’t speak a word, she nodded briefly once before she stepped into the embrace of an eternal darkness. It choked out the light, flooding the hallways that both surrounded me and didn’t all at once. The sconces lining the halls flickered out, the lightbulbs within them bursting. The sound of glass striking the stone floor jolted me out of the illusion.
I gasped for breath, feeling as if I’d only just returned to my body. My skin felt strange, suddenly foreign, rather than the home that had housed my soul for the entirety of my existence.
For a moment, I’d been weightless. Drifting and free, separated from the flesh and bone that tied me to this plane.
Figures stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway, and I felt a moment of panic that the devil from my vision had seen me. That he’d followed me through the memory of Charlotte and had come to take me, to claim what he’d marked as his. I reached behind me, touching gentle fingers to the marks on my shoulder through the t-shirt I’d tugged on before leaving my room.
Even though I didn’t trust Gray, I was far better off with him being the sole keeper of that knowledge. No one else needed to know that the devil’s eye marred my shoulder.
“Madizza?” one of the men said as he stepped up.
I didn’t recognize him from the legacies I’d spent most of my time with during classes, and a quick glance at the two girls and two boys who accompanied him confirmed that I didn’t know any of them either. The one who’d spoken glared at me, and I swallowed as I prepared for whatever argument was coming.
One of the other guys whispered, his voice low, drawn out, and mocking. “Helloooo, Willoowwww.”
“That’s me,” I said, forcing a smile even as my unease grew. They spread through the hall, surrounding me as they moved, and a chill skittered up my spine.
“Looking for your next victim?” one of the girls asked.
I turned my stare to her, my brow furrowing as I pursed my lips.
“She’s not the killer, Demi. She’s the one who should be dead. Not Shawn,” the first witch said.
“Or maybe she’s just trying to throw us off her trail,” Demi said, raising a brow as she sneered at me.
“I’m not the one doing this. Just because I’m a Madizza, that doesn’t mean I’m safe from whatever this is. I’m one of the thirteen, all the same as you,” I answered, thinking back to the bodies of the two students who had already died. I wished more than anything that there was something I could do to stop the killings, and maybe the best way for me to move forward was to refocus on finding the bones.
To stop delaying what I needed to do. Stop antagonizing the headmaster and make myself malleable.
Become whatever he wanted me to be.
“You expect us to believe you have nothing to do with it? Your blood rejuvenated the courtyard, and the first body was found there within days. You bled on the ground outside today and now Bash is dead too; his body just conveniently left there? You’re at the center of fucking everything that has gone wrong here,” she said, her voice rising as the flat of her palm struck me across the cheek.
My face turned with the force of it, and I raised a hand to touch the blood that welled at the corner of my lip.
“I’m not going to fight you,” I said, shaking my head as one of her friends raised his hands, ready to defend her.
“What are you? Afraid?” the other girl asked.
“Yes,” I said, breathing evenly. “But not of you.”
Her friend struck forward, sinking his fist into my gut and knocking the breath out of me. “Then fight, bitch.”
“You spelled witch wrong,” I argued, forcing my hands to stay still at my sides.
My magic tried to rise within me, but I rolled my neck to the side and inhaled, keeping it locked within my chest and refusing to let it crack the stones of the school with my anger.
“I am afraid of whatever is killing us. That’s why I’m not going to fight you.”
Another punch to my stomach, followed by one that struck my nose. It crunched in my face. Blood burst from it and dripped down over my lips.
Pain made my head throb, but it was nothing compared to what I’d already endured at far more vicious hands.
“Because you’ll just kill us instead?” He sneered.
“Because I know how terrified you are,” I said, my voice more nasally than normal. My blood stained my teeth as I spoke, the metallic taste filling my mouth. “And I understand what fear can make us do.”
Someone punched me in the lower back, sending me sprawling to my hands and knees as sharp pain tore through my torso. A foot connected with my ribs, driving into me so swiftly that I sputtered, gasping for breath as I collapsed onto the floor.
Worse. I’d been through worse, I reminded myself. Pinching my eyes closed and curling up on my side, I pulled my legs against my chest to protect as many of my vital organs as I could.
One of the men reached down, grasping me by the hair.
“You should leave before he finds out what you did,” I said, shoving down bile as he glared down at me.
“Vessel loving bitch,” he snarled. “You’re so fucking loyal to him, and he follows you around like a puppy, doesn’t he? But where was he during the Reaping, Willow?”
“Are you finished?” I asked, feigning disinterest, even though the reminder was like a stab to the heart. It hurt more than any of the physical wounds they’d managed to inflict, serving as the reminder I needed.
Gray could and would have my body. But he would never have my heart.
Because he didn’t have one to give me in return.
“Yeah, we’re done,” he said, pulling my head away from the floor with his hold on my hair. He slammed it back against the stone, making my vision swim for a moment.
Then it went dark.
 |
I crawled up the steps, taking them one at a time as my body fought to pull itself up. I couldn’t quite get to my feet, using the railing at
the side to help me when I finally reached the top. His room was closer than
the earth at the bottom, and I knew I was going to regret the choice when he hunted them down and killed them all the next day.
Why would he bother? That nagging voice in the back of my mind needed to shut the fuck up, needing to keep out of my business.
I let go of the railing, sprawling across the floor in front of his door. I was shocked to find he hadn’t already felt my pain, that his blood in me hadn’t been enough to alert him to what happened. Maybe he’d hoped they would finish the job and he wouldn’t be held responsible because of our bargain. Even with that condemning thought dancing in my head, I pulled myself toward his room, seeking the one place I felt even remotely safe.
I didn’t want to think about that.
I pulled myself to his door, slumping against it and raising my arm just high enough to knock on it as firmly as I could manage. Sleep pulsed at the edge of my vision, trying to pull me under as I waited.
“Willow,” he said, but his voice didn’t come from behind the door. It came from behind me, his footsteps quick as he darted down from the stairway that curved ever higher into the upper levels. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He knelt in front of me, touching his fingers to my nose and wincing. My eyes drifted closed, the darkness trying to swallow me whole all over again. His deep sigh was half a rumble, a growl that seemed to echo through the halls. “Fucking Hell,” he muttered, reaching down and gathering me into his arms.
“Had nowhere else to go,” I mumbled, leaning against his chest as he pulled me to my feet long enough to get the door open. He shuffled me in, closing it behind him before he smoothly lifted me into his arms. “Think we’ve been here before.” My laugh was humorless as he brought me to his bed, laying me atop the surface.
He didn’t answer, bringing his wrist to his mouth and biting it as he swam in and out of a fuzzy circle. “Drink,” he said, offering it to me. I hesitated, and I could see him just enough to watch as he rolled his eyes. “I think it’s time you acknowledge that it is too late to save yourself from me, love.”
I opened, nausea swirling in my gut as he pressed his wrist to my mouth tightly. He shifted, bringing it to me and letting his blood pour in. I screamed around him as my nose shifted, healing with a snap.
“Who?” he asked, staring down at me as I drank.
The haze began to lift, leaving me all-too-aware of the rage simmering behind those steely eyes. I swallowed down more of his blood, moaning as it became something else. He pulled his wrist back, depriving me of taking more and more, until I could no longer tell what blood was his and what was mine.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head as I grabbed him by the front of his black shirt. I tugged him toward me, letting him taste the mix of his blood and mine. He groaned, pulling back with a shake of the head.
“It matters to me. Who did this? Was it Susannah?” he asked, helping me sit up. He guided me out of the bed, bringing me to the bathroom as he stripped my shirt over my head.
I giggled, feeling like my limbs were far too light in the aftermath of his blood. I raised one to touch his nose, poking it teasingly.
“Are you going to fuck me, Headmaster?”
“Fucking Hell, Willow,” he grunted, pulling my shorts down my thighs. I was naked without them, leaving me nude in front of him for the second time in one night. “Someone just tried to kill you.”
“If that was what they wanted, I’d be dead,” I said, leaning into him. My naked breasts pressed against his shirt, the soft fabric of it making my nipples pebble. He growled as if he felt it, the hint of fangs peeking out. “You’ve had me naked twice, and somehow I am still unfucked.”
“Unfucked?” he asked, the barest hint of a smile spreading his lips as he reached into his shower and turned on the water. He turned me to face the shower stall, pushing me forward until I stepped beneath the spray.
The water tinted pink as I let it wash over my face, running down the drain with a color I didn’t want to consider. “Mhmm,” I hummed, running my hands over my body as he watched. I smiled as his eyes followed my hands as I worked the body wash into a lather and rubbed it on my breasts.
“Get clean,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “You’ll be safe here until I get back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, trying not to think of how genuine my pout was. I hated the idea of being ignored, of not being given the attention I wanted when I so rarely wanted anything.
It was easier not to want, but I wanted him.
“To look for anyone who looks like they got into a war with a hellcat,” he said, turning to the bathroom door.
“You won’t find them,” I said, calling after him.
He froze, spinning to pin me with a glare. “Why wouldn’t I? I think you’ll find I’m quite resourceful, and there’s no corner of this school I do not know.”
I paused, running conditioner through my hair before I answered. “You won’t find them because I didn’t fight.”
“Them? More than one person beat the fucking shit out of you, and you didn’t fight?” he asked, the sudden stillness in his body enough to chase away the remnants of being blood drunk.
“Not every fight is worth fighting,” I whispered, running my fingers through my hair as I stood beneath the spray.
“You could have been killed,” he said, his face twisting with something that felt too much like recognition.
I turned away, staring at the tiled shower as I prepared to lay the darkest part of me open and raw. It was a calculated choice, a strategy. I closed my eyes tightly.
But that didn’t make it any less true.
“And if I was? What difference would it have made?” Silence arched between us as I opened my eyes slowly, meeting the storm waging in his eyes with a twist of my lips as I fought back the burn of tears. “The only person who would care is—”
Gray closed the distance between us, stepping into the shower and backing me into the wall. Water beat down on his head, slicking his dark hair to his skin as his eyes sparked with anger.
“I. Would. Care.”
My heart thumped in my chest, the conviction in those words almost enough to make me believe them. If only it were possible.
“Gray,” I murmured, shaking my head as he grasped my chin and raised my gaze back to his.
That hand slid to cup my jaw, his fingers grazing the side of my neck. “You fight. Every moment of every day, you fight. Because that is who you are,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to mine.
“What happens when I’m tired of fighting?” I asked, trying to ignore the pool of tears threatening to fall. Hoping the water from the shower would wash them away before he could notice.
His face softened, his lips touching mine in a kiss that was so much more delicate than any other. “Then you let me do it for you.”
