Hadley Werewolves, page 21
Her friends froze and screamed around her. Numbness tried to seep into her bones, but she shoved it away. She could practically hear her mama snapping in her ear, “Move it, girl! A slaughtered witch is one who didn’t run.”
Nevena sprang to action, stumbling backward. “Don’t go downstairs!” She shoved her shocked friends—until the braver ones grabbed the younger kids. “Get the witchlings to the other set of stairs. Move!”
The screams continued as she pushed others up the stairs to the next open doorway. A stream of girls flowed inside. Each second passed agonizingly slowly and she wanted to move with them, but if she waited long enough, she might see her mother from the third floor.
As the line thinned, her stomach churned and her fright increased ten-fold. Was her mother coming? Would the adult who’d come next be the possessed enforcer she’d seen before?
The line of children ended with two teachers at the end. One of them had cut open her wrist, armed and ready to fight. “Why are you waiting here? It’s coming!”
The teacher shoved Nevena’s shoulders to turn her around. The woman pushed her through the doorway.
“Nevena!” Her mother’s call brought relief. She turned to see a dark-haired woman racing up the stairway in her black uniform. Mama. Her papa was at her side. He brought up the rear, his handgun aimed at the stairwell.
Papa slammed the door shut and locked it. Not that it mattered. These weren’t the reinforced storm doors used to protect the basement where the demons were locked away. That flimsy metal would bend with ease under that creature’s will.
“We can’t stay here,” he breathed. A thick line of sweat formed under his salt-and-pepper brow.
“Go down the hallway while we hold it off,” her mama said.
“I can help!” Nevena begged.
The metallic door groaned. Time was up. As much as Nevena wanted to fight, cold fear trapped her in its clutches. Her mouth opened as the door shuddered, bending inward as if a fist slammed into it again and again.
“Until the end, my love.” The gun shook in his right hand.
“Until the end,” Mama bit out.
Finally, the door flew off and the demon vaulted the door across the hallway.
“Go upstairs!” her mama ordered everyone. “Keep the children safe.”
The two witches looked to Mama and then ran off.
An enforcer was the final line. Those who didn’t run when danger came.
Nevena’s mother twisted back her hair into a tie and slit both her arms from the wrists to the elbow. One wrist meant the witch could live, but two deep cuts meant the end had come.
Even Nevena knew it.
Her papa shoved her backwards down the hall. “Run, Nevena.”
She shuffled backwards, unable to look away as the captain of the enforcers entered the hallway, her legs covered in blood, her eyes wide. The stark white of her teeth and her wide smile entranced Nevena. Almost like a swaying cobra waiting for its next victim.
Why does my life have to end this way? she thought. I know this woman. Mama and Papa trust her with our lives, and yet all that’s gone.
Papa fired shot after shot in the enforcer’s chest, but the bleeding demon advanced, strolling down the hallway with purpose. Mama drew a series of glyphs across her hands, but she wasn’t fast enough. The blood demon flicked her fingers high in the air and an invisible hand flung them all backwards. One minute, Nevena stood and then the world spun violently right before her head and back hit the wall.
Dizziness blurred her vision, but somehow she could make out a bit of black hair on someone. The mouth on that face moved. “Nevena…”
She felt so weak. A trail of blood ran from a cut on her forehead. Was it her time to die?
“Naomi...” the blood demon called out. That was her mama’s name. “You almost taste sweet enough, but you’ve been hiding a treasure from me. A little flower with petals waiting to be plucked...”
Mama stretched her hand until she grabbed her daughter’s wrist. The yank on Nevena’s arm was hard, but as she got closer to her mother, she knew such a gesture was futile. The invisible hand found them again and pinned them against the wall. She was now beyond her mother’s reach. Papa no longer had his gun. Mama’s hands lay useless at her sides.
All she could was cry.
They were trapped and about to die.
“Little Naomi,” the blood demon said with a sinister smile. “Will you watch while I take your precious flower away?” The enforcer strolled over to Nevena and wiped away the streak of blood. A strange spark bit into her skin from the contact.
“Her blood is special—” the demon began.
“Shut up,” Mama hissed.
The possessed witch left her to hover over her mother. All Nevena could do was whine as it spoke into Mama’s ear. “You’re a little fly who has fallen into my web now. Will you stop me this time before I swallow you whole?”
What was it talking about? Had it escaped before? Or was it crazed?
“Just shut up and take me,” Mama whispered. Her gaze darted to Papa’s. What did she plan to do? “You don’t want that weak body you’re rotting inside. I’m stronger. I’ll last longer.”
A laugh emerged from the demon’s throat as the woman snaked her hand out and grabbed Mama’s chin. “I could sample you and the girl. Taste one and then the other. I could choose if I wanted…”
The grip around Nevena’s torso loosened. And no more than a few feet away from her, Mama’s blade gleamed on the floor. She inched toward it—only to hear Mama scream. The screech turned to a cry as her mother’s arms were ripped off at the shoulder.
Faster, she must move faster.
But once she had the knife the ultimate question came: What was she supposed to do with it? The demon would strike her before she ever swung. Powerful magic was the only thing left. Focus was critical. She had to remember what she never could remember in class.
She hesitated, but hearing her mother scream again gave her the resolve to do what had to be done. She slid the blade from one side of her throat to the other. No cut she’d ever had compared to this—in seconds her vision blurred and she tasted copper at the back of her mouth.
She’d done it. She’d cut her own throat.
As her life’s blood flowed, she couldn’t look away or keep her mouth from bobbing again and again. The demon ripped her father’s legs off.
She touched her damp neck and then scribbled the only powerful spell that came to mind onto the floor. It had to be the right one. “Your life-blood can be used for the most powerful spells of them all. Don’t forget this one,” her mama had said.
Now it was time to stand. She was a fool for not doing that first. Somehow, she staggered to her feet, one hand clutching her bleeding throat, while the other reached out for her target. She made her way toward the demon that stood over her disemboweled father.
She wasn’t too late to do a sleep spell. Someone had to be alive. She couldn’t be too late. There was an exposed spot on the nape of the possessed witch’s neck. A weakness in the armor to knock them out. All she had to do was reach. She took a few sure steps. With bloodied fingers, she brushed against the possessed witch’s black shirt. Then swatted open air.
After that she passed out.
A few hours later, she woke up in horrible pain in the infirmary with her throat bound in heavy gauze and tape. A nurse continued to apply pressure to her neck.
“We’ve given you an infusion to help control the bleeding,” the older witch said to her. “I’m not going to let you die.”
The coven’s doctors and nurses swarmed around a room filled with broken bodies.
Even with a cut throat, she wasn’t the worst of their patients.
As the night wore on and she tried to speak and cry out, all she could produce was a hoarse noise. A weak whine from the pain of losing her parents. Since she had no family here, no one came to check on her. Had any of her friends survived the attack?
A week passed with many episodes of painful stomachaches. Many of the witches in the beds around her died. And yet she healed. The nurse who had saved her life and sat at her bedside for the first few days hadn’t returned for some reason. Even worse, the other doctors and nurses had yet to approach her bedside or check her wounds.
When she finally could ask what happened after she blacked out, the news wasn’t what she wanted to hear. A nurse and a woman dressed in all black approached her.
“I’m sorry, witchling,” the nurse said. “The doctor who stitched up your neck is dead. As well as the nurse who assisted him. Anyone who has come into contact with you since the attack has died.”
“That’s impossible.” The pain in her throat flared.
“The elders have been informed of your situation,” the nurse said stiffly. “Until the matter is resolved, you’re under quarantine. No contact with others.”
She repeated her words, even trying to get up to question the nurse further, but backed away when the enforcer stepped in with a hard glare.
“Stay back, girl!” the woman snapped.
Tears flooded her eyes and she shrank back. “What about my parents? Talk to Naomi. Maybe she knows what happened to me. I tried to do a sleep spell—”
The nurse and the enforcer exchanged a quick glance before the nurse spoke again. “Your mother is dead. The sleep spell you attempted failed.” She paused. “Not long after your parents passed, another group of enforcers arrived and managed to take down the demon. One of them was the doctor who saved your life. That man is dead, too.”
She had nowhere to go and nothing to do but cry. Her tears filled the time, but when her eyes dried all she had left was resolve and anger. After that demon had touched her forehead, something inside her had changed. Lying in bed mourning her parents wouldn’t help her situation.
Ten days later, when she’d recovered enough to leave the infirmary, she left the coven’s compound. No one stopped her as she walked out the doors into the coven’s District 1 neighborhood. All she had with her was a backpack. She was cursed after all and the elders had deemed her safe—as long as no one touched her blood.
But leaving wasn’t what she had in mind.
Every step she took down the street had a purpose. She walked into a tiny tattoo shop off Calea Griviţei and pulled out a book and a wad of cash, the last gift from her parents. The man peered at her with curiosity.
“I need a set of tattoos, please,” she said.
A minor could get a tattoo if they had the cash in Bulgaria.
“What kind of design?” the man asked.
She put her hand on the book. “I want all of these pictures added—or as many as you can fit,” she presented her palm, “here.”
Chapter 9
Drew didn’t move from his spot the whole time while she talked. Just watching her speak was cathartic to him, too. His parents were dead, just like hers. He hadn’t watched them die though.
The need to hold her hit him, but he stayed where he was, hands supporting his head on the bed.
“The tattoos took days to complete. I came to the shop diligently. I knew the shop artist’s life history by the time every last drop of ink had been applied.”
She looked at him briefly, her beautiful black hair falling to the side of her face. “When your lessons are stabbed into your hand you never forget. I watched every single pinprick. Every single curve he made into my skin. After that day, I vowed never to forget. If the time came again, I’d properly perform a sleep spell and I’d succeed.”
“What about the curse? Did you infect the shopkeeper?”
“Oh, I was careful after that point. Skin-to-skin contact was the underlying problem so I made him take extreme protective measures.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
All she did was shrug, but her scent still reflected sadness. “That demon is back in the box in Bucharest. It’s in a place where it can’t hurt me anymore. I don’t have to think about it.”
The way she stared off to the other side of the room told him differently. She probably thought about it too many times to count.
“It’s not your fault those people died.” Had anyone ever told her that before?
“Yes, it is.” Based on her scent she believed that statement to be a fact and that pained him.
“You had no control over what that thing did to you,” he said vehemently.
She didn’t speak, merely staring at the wall.
“I bet Kasim’s death isn’t your fault either.” He might as well lay everything on the table. She blamed herself for too many things. All these burdens made her bitter and cold.
She shook her head after hearing that. “Oh, that bastard died at my hands.”
Drew sat up in the bed. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I tried to do the right thing,” her voice broke slightly but she held herself together. “And I was pushed to do something I regret.”
He wanted to move to her side but stopped himself. Her straight back told him she wanted space. “What happened between you two?”
She took a deep breath and blinked rapidly. “Three years ago, I met him by accident in Cairo. He came to the compound to meet with his mother who was one of the sisters.” She sighed as if a good memory fluttered through her. “He told me a bunch of bullshit—that I was meant to be his—even when I warned him away. That damn fool accidentally touched my blood and that was it. I couldn’t run away and he couldn’t either. His family resented me for it until the end.”
When she didn’t speak for a bit he prodded her along. “The end of what?”
“To Kasim’s mother I was the cursed witch who deserved to die, so they plotted to poison me.” Her laugh bothered him. It was weak. “I found out and confronted that son-of-a-bitch. As you can imagine there were words. Then fists. He died at my hand before he choked me to death.” Her words darkened. “Kasim’s mother wanted my execution, but the evidence from their scheme to kill me had been discovered. So as a compromise, the elders banished me from the coven and I ended up here. The only place that would take me in.”
So that was how she had come to Las Vegas.
Tension began to fill him as the wolf stirred under his skin. That rat bastard Kasim hurt her badly. If he wasn’t dead already, Drew would’ve ended him. He slowly stretched and got up. She didn’t move as he strode toward her. He had to do something.
He reached for her, but as he touched her shoulder she flinched. Would she ever be able to let go of what had been done to her? Time to change the subject to something lighter. “So what happens now to the demon you caught?”
To his ears, the sounds of her swallowing were loud. “Back in the museum, I bound it from using magic. Almost like putting someone to sleep. It doesn’t always work as intended, but if the spellcaster is powerful enough, the binding keeps the demon from killing everyone who gets too close.”
“How did you get so close?”
She finally offered a small smile. “I’d say it was all me, but I’ll admit your distraction had perfect timing for me to move into a good position for my attack.”
So she wasn’t all cockiness. Her vulnerability made him like her even more. The very thought that he liked her took him aback. Wasn’t he supposed to be finding a way to free himself? Did he want to spend his whole life at the coven following her around? What kind of life was that? And yet after hearing how things went down with Kasim, he was about to tread on unsteady ground again.
“We need to talk about a few things,” he said softly.
“About what?”
He gestured between them. “About what will happen to us now that the demon is taken care of.”
She licked her lips and took a few steps away from him. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Liar.
“Well, I have.”
“If you haven’t checked, for the last twenty-four hours, crazy shit has gone down.”
He grabbed her right arm. The wolf in him didn’t like how much she presented her back to him. “And now it’s over.”
“Let me go before I make you,” she said between clenched teeth. Her amber eyes flared.
His gaze traveled from her throat where she swallowed to her parted lips. Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip and he couldn’t hold in the growl. He should despise her for what she was—the enemy who helped destroy Hadley. He should hate her even more for the loss of his freedom. Yet, he couldn’t since it wasn’t her fault. This unexpected desire to protect her frightened him.
There were too many reasons for him to go to the other side of the room and sit his ass down. None of those reasons, though, stopped him from reaching for her and pressing his lips against hers. Her lips were as soft as he’d imagined. Up close her minty scent filled his nostrils and settled into his hardening groin. Their heads naturally turned as the kiss deepened. Underneath all her hard edges a soft woman waited to be touched. She melted against him and he fought damn hard not to wrap his arms around her. The wolf in him wanted to take her to the bed, to give her the attention and affections she deserved after being mistreated for so long.
But now wasn’t the time. She needed patience. Someone willing to help her heart heal. He could be that man. The way her body stiffened against his told him what was coming and he was ready. She slid away from him and he opened his eyes to see her eyebrows lowered, a flicker of anger in her eyes. “We shouldn’t do this—”
A knock on the door pulled them farther apart.
“What is it?” Her voice was breathy.
“There’s a problem,” came a woman’s voice from the other side of the closed door. “The elders need you immediately.”
Nevena didn’t say a word to Drew as she put on a presentable pair of jeans and a shirt. He did the same, merely putting on his shirt and following her out the door. If anything had happened between them, she hoped he’d keep it to himself. Her bitter relationship with Kasim nearly ruined her, yet she didn’t want to experience that piercing pain again.
