I was growing more exhausted every day, worn down until my body was a mass of burning muscles. Resting my head against the window, I noted the dark figures were placing their victims into a pattern. I blinked, scrunching up my nose, frowning, and fighting the urge to vomit. I peered down at the scene below. I was forcing myself to look past the carnage to examine the shape that the masked figures created with their victims’ corpses.
They arranged the bodies in a large pentagram pattern, draining each person of all blood and bodily fluid before placing them on the ground, posing their faces, forcing cloudy eyes to stare sightlessly at the midnight sky. Their arms stretched above their heads, touching the fingers of the body above them, connecting each of the victims to create a grid of power fueled by their sacrifice.
My heart pounded in my ears, echoing each beat as I trembled violently. Closing my eyes, I tried to concentrate, searching through memories for where I’d seen this pattern before. Feeling a twinge in my leg, I opened my eyes and frowned. I bent down, running my nails over the cut in my thigh that itched as the skin healed.
Thinking back, I recalled seeing pictures in a book depicting a similar design. The book filled each page with morbidity, and atrocious patterns of human corpses, giving me nightmares. To witness it happening in person was much worse. It was the shit of horror shows that even the most creative of minds would have had trouble bringing to life on film.
The illustrations showed men and women spelled to slaughter one another. The victims had to be willing to die for the sacrifice to power the grid. Spelling the victims provided a way to cheat the process, ending their lives without argument. The sexual incantation used was then amplified, turning it into a weapon to drive their victims mad with the need to take their pleasure by force. They created sexual monsters that felt no pain or remorse, only boundless pleasure until they died from mating or self-inflicted wounds.
Chapter Three
I stared through the window as the masked figures set ablaze the bodies, and my breathing stopped. I watched the Hecate insignia burning dimly on the remains of the many victim's heads and chests. Each palm also carried the mark and was placed touching another, sealing the circle and igniting the grid as a sacrifice to Hecate, increasing the coven’s power.
Adult bodies created the outside circular pattern while smaller victims formed the five-pointed star in the middle. As I studied one male’s face, his eyes shifted, holding mine as his body slowly burned, and I clamped my hands over my mouth as tears slipped from the precarious hold I’d had on them.
Not everyone set on fire was dead before the flames had reached them. In horrified silence, I listened to the screams of the dying as they burned to death before my eyes. I trembled with the force of my emotions, unable to stop the tears that burned in my gaze.
I wanted nothing more than to jump to their aid, but the reality was the moment the villagers fell under the spell, it sealed their fate, and nothing would change that fact. The only thing I could do now was study and to learn more about my enemies so I could avenge all those sacrificed in my grandmother’s name.
As I silently cried, evil shadows danced hypnotically to the screams of their victims. The masked figures laughed at the dying as their flesh sizzled and burned, sending the putrid scent high into the night. I noticed other flames lit in the distance, and suddenly, the entire area glowed with hundreds of similar circles made from remains. The fire created a burning pathway that flowed outside the village, deep into the countryside as if lighting the way toward something, or worse, someone.
Calming my emotions wasn’t easy. Inside the Nine Realms, everything about me was enhanced, including my senses. My sense of smell was unreal. My hearing had amplified to the point that a twig, breaking miles away, echoed within my ears. The need to mate hadn’t merely increased; it had intensified until even my nipples ached when Knox was near. To say it was ridiculous was an understatement, but that’s how I knew when he was near, how I sensed him before I ever saw him as he continued to chase me.
My body knew Knox, desired him, and craved him deeper than I craved the need to do what I’d come to the Nine Realms to accomplish. I’d used potions and spells, all to no avail, because it was a primal need and something that wouldn’t be ignored or shut off.
I leaned against the wall, closing off my emotions. I tuned out the debauchery happening outside. The victim’s screams were dying down, which meant death was finally claiming them. I rubbed away the tears, deadening myself to the senseless loss of life, knowing that I’d come upon it too late to make a difference. Nothing I could have done would take away the dark, oily magic fueling the men and women to slaughter one another.
I wasn’t that strong, nor did I house the right magic to fight against the spell. Not yet, at least. Soon. The witches outside stopped laughing and talked excitedly, in a rushed, worried speech. I frowned, moving back to the window.
Peering down the road, I spotted Knox as he stepped into the village and unseeingly moved through the scene. My eyes narrowed as he and his men continued toward the courtyard, stepping through the bodies. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. I watched the hooded figures slowly slinking toward him, Knox seemingly unaware.
Son of a bitch! Knox and his men were within a layer of the realm. I turned my attention back to the masked figures, but they showed no signs of alarm. They could not see Knox and his men, so how was I able to see them? Knox came closer into view as a hooded figure emerged from the crowd, looking directly at him. Removing the mask, a woman scowled angrily at Knox as she reached into the layer of the realm, sliding her fingers around his wrist, causing him to jerk back in pain. Anger snapped through me that they’d dare touch what was mine.
Power unleashed within me without warning. Power like I’d never felt before slid through the masked figures closest to me, until they recoiled, screaming as it burned their flesh, just as they’d done to their victims.
“Tit-for-tat, bitches. That monster is mine, and only mine.” My eyes slid over their burning bodies, a smile lifting my lips as the rush of magic rippled through me.
Black eyes slid to my position in the window, and I realized I was no longer invisible. Shadows swayed around the woman’s body as she released Knox, giving me her full attention. The figures all moved closer, coming toward me as one. I sent a warning shot of pure, untethered light magic at them. They recoiled since dark magic couldn’t handle light, something we were taught very young.
Once you embraced the darkness, it sucked out your soul and then your beauty. You became a cold, undying, horrifying monster. Skin withered and wrinkled as it stole the witch’s beauty, leaving her a decaying vile husk of a thing that no one trusted, or wished to be around. It made you into a witch’s worst nightmare, unwanted and ugly.
The stronger the witch, the longer she could hold onto her outer shell, but even the strongest witches eventually fell to the darkness. I watched as the woman and the masked figures vanished, removing the victims from my vision, becoming shadows, drifting on the wind before ashes drifted into the night.
Turning my attention back to Knox, I smirked at the confusion playing on his face. Ocean-blue eyes lifted and locked with mine, before turning to look around to find what had touched him. Death had touched him and sought to take him without his knowledge. Like I’d let them hurt that asshole, not when I enjoyed our cat-and-mouse game, even if he was exhausting me effortlessly. I was still winning.