Chapter 28

TWENTY-EIGHT

Gabriel

Far below us, a lid of magical energy shimmers over the remains of an old storage facility. The roof is mostly gone. No windows. Only a single door that we can see.

On the other side of the building, a large reservoir stretches for miles. Approachable only by backroads, yet in the center of the ley line, this is certainly where AURA will bring Willow. If she is not inside already.

Two hours after leaving San Francisco, Killian's little black box alerted us to the faintest trail of magic. We followed it from the train tracks, down a steep hill, to a highway, then lost it again. He blathered on about some calculation involving miles-per-hour and the coefficient of drag, but I paid little attention to the specifics.

I can see my breath in the air. It is close to freezing in the Colorado mountains. Killian started a fire, then wove a spell around the area to hide the light and smoke—and trap as much heat as possible. I have not complained about its inefficacy. I suspect the warlock would react…badly.

The vampires care little about the cold. Nor does Kunchin with his thick fur. But the rest of us are uncomfortable at best. Maddox said something about "human popsicles" not too long ago, and the term, while revolting, is accurate.

Zoe burrows deeper into Sinclair's leather jacket, eyeing the fire warily. I am not surprised. Only weeks ago, she and the incubus almost perished in the flames of Hell. I suppose I did too. My wings ache from the memory.

"My love, you are freezing," Sin says as he pulls Zoe into his arms.

Her lips take on a bluish tinge. "Better th-than burning."

"Let me bring you to the penthouse." I drop to one knee in front of the couple. "We cannot do anything until Grayson returns from reconnaissance. It would take only moments."

In truth, the idea of leaving Willow—though we have no proof she is actually here—terrifies me. But I know what love is now. I will not allow Sinclair and Zoe to lose what they have only recently found if it is within my power to save it.

"I'm staying here," Zoe says. "Non-negotiable."

The underbrush rustles to the west. I push to my feet and loose my wings. Sinclair cut holes in one of my t-shirts so I don't destroy them every time I—as Willow put it—"wing-out."

Fuck. She still thinks I am horribly broken. I suspect it was actually her words that healed me. She thought me worthy despite the devastation. She made love to me knowing I could not fly. She loved— loves— me for who I am. Not what I can do.

A tall, very naked blonde strides from a dense grouping of trees. Dirt stains her cheeks, and leaves stick to her elbows and knees. "Fuck, Grayson," Sin mutters. "Put some damn clothes on."

"My clothes are in that bundle there," the eagle shifter says and points to a pack next to the fire. "Did you expect me to leave them in the woods where bugs would crawl all over them?" She shudders. "Been there, done that. I found a centipede in my ass crack once . You try forgetting that sensation. I dare you." She unzips the small bag and pulls out a sweater.

"What did you find?" I ask, averting my eyes until she has covered herself.

Grayson runs her fingers through her rough-chopped blond hair and comes away with a handful of twigs. "There's a reason I prefer flying in the city." Still barefoot, she crouches down next to the fire and warms her hands. "I convinced a male to fly directly over the building. Or…try to."

"A male—do you mean an actual eagle?" Killian asks. "As in…not a shifter?"

With a huff, Grayson stares up at him. "Yes. These assholes are careful. Bordering on obsessive. And given what the male saw—before he smashed into a wall of magic and almost dislocated his beak—it's a damn good thing I took the precaution."

"Well?" I would shake the woman if I were not so fucking grateful for her help. "What did he see?"

"Cages. A lot of them. Several of the prisoners inside were screaming. After he spent ten minutes bitching me out for almost killing him, I made two passes myself—as close as I dared. The magic they're using is…" she shivers, "the strongest I've felt—outside of Killian's—in my lifetime. By my count, there are two men present—in addition to the prisoners. Eagles don't have the best sense of smell, so I can't tell you what any of them were. Humans, shifters, witches…" She shrugs. "I saw no sign of Willow, but that doesn't mean anything. She could have been in one of the cages."

My ass hits the log Sinclair dropped next to the fire to use as a bench. I have been searching for Willow's emotions since we set up our small base of operations here. She is still hidden from me. Either by the magical wards layered over and around the building, or because they have trapped her deep in the void. I do not know which is worse.

If the wards are as strong as Killian believes, I may not be able to pass through them to save her. But if she has been in the void since she was taken…will there be anything of her mind left when they finally bring her out?

"Enough of this," Kàra snaps. "Why are we doing nothing? If Willow is in the void, she cannot be forced to wield the Blade. We should breach now."

"And what if she is not there?" Sinclair faces off with the vampire and her mate. "We need proof. If we're premature, they could disappear with Willow forever."

Killian lifts a pair of binoculars to his eyes. "Something's happening. Is that…? Fuck me."

I snatch the lenses from his hand and adjust the magnification. A large, black van rolls to a stop in the parking lot. From this vantage point, I can only see the driver's side. A dark-haired male emerges, looks around, and heads around the vehicle.

"That is the human. Isaac." I tighten my hold on the binoculars until the housing protests my grip. Fuck. If I am not careful, I will break them.

I let my power rush down the mountain, blanketing everything around me. The magic Grayson spoke of leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I sense two souls in addition to Isaac. One is familiar. The Fae doctor. But I do not recognize the other.

Mist takes position next to me, muscles coiled and ready to spring. "Witch," she hisses through clenched teeth. "Fucking hell. Kàra. Get your ass over here."

The other vampires surround Mist so quickly, their movements stir the leaves at my feet.

Ewan peers down at the van, his dark blond brows furrowed. "I cannae tell what?—"

Kàra grabs his arm and pulls a deep breath in through her nose. "The witch is blood bound."

"Blood bound? What the fuck does that mean?" I cannot tear my gaze away from the van. Hannah's brown hair shines in the vehicle's headlights as she strides toward the building. Another woman trails behind her, almost floating, with pale skin and jet-black locks long enough to brush her ass.

"The one you believed was Fae?" Kàra says, her voice taking on a haunted, rough edge. "She is much more than that. She is vampire, and the witch is in her thrall."

"Fuck me." Killian stalks away, muttering under his breath. "Is nothing in this world simple?"

The conversations around me fade into noise as Isaac comes back into view. Slung over his shoulder, her body limp and her soul still trapped in the void, is Willow.

Willow

I thought darkness was the absence of light. But even when my Dad used to take me stargazing during the new moon in the middle of nowhere, I could see… something .

Now, I'm trapped in a sea of nothingness. No sensation. No sound. No smell. No taste.

I can't draw breath. Can't feel my heartbeat.

Help me! Gabriel! Please, find me!

Minutes in the void feel like an eternity. I cry out—or I would if I still had a voice. A mouth. Lungs. But here, the endless scream is only in my mind.

Is this what it's like to die?

I'm slipping further and further away from my life. From any hope of rescue. From Gabriel. I'll never know the comfort of his arms around me again. Or his warmth. His strength. His voice.

I love him. I know that now—without any doubt—and I never got the chance to tell him.

Anguish tears through my consciousness. Rending one thought from the next, shredding them, and leaving my mind in tatters.

"I've been planning this for years."

"With your consciousness trapped…it's like you don't even exist."

Hannah won't keep me here forever. She needs me to wield the Blade. Tonight, she said. They took me close to noon. How long can I survive here? Six hours? Eight? Ten?

Each moment feels like an eternity. Or…maybe each moment is an eternity.

If I could, I'd throw myself against the walls. Claw and scratch until my fingernails are bloody and my bones broken. Instead, it's my mind that fractures into pieces.

"You will obey me."

The sweet, lilting voice is so beautiful. It surrounds me, like flowering vines weaving through my hair, winding down my arms, my torso, my legs.

I can't help but agree. "Yes. Of course. I'll do anything you want."

"Good, sweet Willow. I knew you'd see reason."

Reason? I can't see anything. I don't have legs in the void. I don't have a body at all. Flowers don't exist here. The voice is a lie. The only thing here is pain.

"Gabriel. I want to see Gabriel."

Silence. Never-ending, oppressive silence.

The voice calls to me constantly. It tells me to submit. To obey. To listen.

It's getting harder and harder to resist. When Hannah finally releases me from this endless nightmare, will I have any strength left to fight her?

Whispers push at the tatters of my mind. More of Hannah's tricks? It doesn't matter. The last shred of my sanity is fraying fast.

"Listen."

"Use her."

"We made the wrong choice."

"You hold the true power."

Each voice is stronger than the last. Familiar, yet not. I've been here so long, I can't tell what's real and what's an illusion. What's Hannah and what's… me .

They're all talking at once now. If my consciousness weren't being pummeled into dust, I'd clap my hands over my ears.

"Stop!" I scream with all the focus I can muster. " The grimoire warned me, but I didn't listen. All I can do now is die!"

The whispers get louder. Harsher. Now they're not talking to me, I don't think, but each other.

"Make her understand…"

"How?"

"Show her!"

Sensation returns in a tidal wave of pain. The voices are gone, replaced by the sounds of suffering all around me. Screams, whimpers, moans… All too real after the unending nothingness of the void.

Everything's too loud. Too big. Too bright.

Cold. I'm so cold. I can't open my eyes. Can't move. Can't speak.

I think…I'm kneeling. Sitting back on my heels. Someone grabs my shoulder and shakes me.

The chain wrapped around my throat burns, but I can't tell if it's fire or ice. Or both. My hands are numb. They're the only part of me that doesn't hurt.

Cool fingers trail over my cheek. "Open your eyes, Willow. Now."

No. I don't want to.

The chain vibrates, setting my nerve endings on fire. A thin whimper escapes my chapped lips.

"I will not ask you again. Calista? Send her to the very edge of the void, but keep her in this world."

My scream echoes through the frigid air. I topple over, my head slamming against rough concrete. Muscles seizing, I'm helpless to do more than cry until Calista releases the spell.

"Are you ready to cooperate?" Hannah asks. Dressed in a long, flowing white dress, she looms over me. "I do not have all night. The full moon will augment the power of the creatures I have lined up for slaughter."

I blink at her, begging silently for any shred of compassion. If I had the strength, I'd tell her… What would I tell her? I'd help. Of course, I'd help. She needs me. She'll take care of me. If I do what she wants, everything will be okay.

Calista flicks her fingers, and I'm lifted onto my knees once more. Blinking away my tears, I stare down at my hands. In the next moment, the red ropes unwind, disappearing into thin air.

I rub my wrists—or try to, as my fingers are only now starting to tingle.

Hannah's clipped footsteps retreat, and I blink hard. I can't focus through my tears and the lingering haze from the void. Something moves in my periphery. A shadow.

No. It's my whisper. She's here. Her hands press to her mouth. She shakes her head, then darts past Calista to throw her arms around me.

I can almost feel her. One of her tears hits my neck, just above the chain. It's warm.

I'm supposed to fight. But fight what? Licking my chapped lips, I taste blood. Hannah's blood. Blood bound. I'm blood bound.

"…lined up for slaughter."

Oh, God. She's going to make me kill them. There has to be a way out. Or…a weapon. But I don't have the strength to stand, let alone run. Even if I did, I don't know where we are.

"Bring the werewolf," Hannah snaps. "I want to feel his power running through my veins."

I crane my neck, trying to make sense of what I see. The walls are bare. Concrete. The building is massive. Football stadium big. High above, the moon is blinding in the night sky. How…? What happened to the roof?

The screams get louder. I can only twist my head an inch or two in any direction. Behind me, cages are lined up in a row. At least a dozen of them, full of men and women—some slumped to the floor, others shaking the bars like they think they can break free.

Several hurl obscenities at Hannah. Two men flank her, thrust long, black weapons through the bars, and electrocute the prisoners until they're howling in pain.

Isaac drags a young man out of the first cage by a thick, metal chain. Barefoot, emaciated, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that look like they've been through a shredder, he can't get his legs under him.

A heavy, silver collar is locked around his neck, and as he fights and strains to get free, blood seeps around the edges. Once Isaac secures the short chain to a hasp on the floor in front of me, the man lunges and snaps his jaws. Another two inches, and he'd have me in his grasp.

I'll have to get close to him to use the Blade. If I hesitate—even a little—could he kill me first?

"Meet…" Hannah waves her hand vaguely. "Shit. I won't pretend I know his name. But he's one of the strongest werewolves I've ever seen. He'll be my first. Your first, Willow dear."

"Fuck you."

The ground rushes up to meet me, and a heartbeat later, my cheek and jaw start to throb. Blood trickles from the corner of my mouth. Did she… hit me?

"I have endless ways to cause you pain," Hannah says, kneeling at my side and flexing her fingers. "But I would much rather be kind. Don't you want me to be kind?"

I do. Of course, I do.

Calista flicks her wrist, and I'm lifted back to my knees. Her other hand twists in the air, forcing the werewolf to mirror my position. He yelps in pain. Fur ripples in patches over his skin. Hannah glares at him. "I forbid you from shifting. Your power is mine to control."

The werewolf's whimper is like a knife to my heart. The fur disappears in an instant, and his bare chest heaves with each shallow breath. His muscles cord and strain, but I don't think he can move.

Hannah steps behind me. I know the exact moment she picks up the Blade. Its fear scrapes along my spine, twisting until I can barely breathe from the weight of it. It knows what's about to happen.

"Claim your birthright, Willow, and I will take care of you." She holds the Blade over her head—well out of reach—and smiles down at me. "You want to please me, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

I know she's evil. I know I have to fight her. But I hurt. Everywhere. My heart most of all.

With her free hand, she traces the delicate links around my neck. "It's simple, really. Pierce the mongrel's heart with the Blade. You'll feel his life force—all his unique talents—flowing into the Blade. Once his heart stops beating, you'll use your magic to send that power flowing through this chain and into me. Can you do that?"

Can I?

My whisper floats behind Hannah, shaking her head and pleading with me.

"Willow? Answer me." Hannah uses the tip of the Blade to force my chin up until she can meet my gaze.

"N-no. I won't…" I start to sob, knowing that little bit of resistance was all I had left.

Her eyes harden, and her fangs lengthen to sharp points. "Calista!" she growls.

The witch's fingers jerk. My head snaps back. My lips part. Biting into her wrist, Hannah opens her vein. Crimson wells up, dripping onto her pristine white dress.

She shoves her wrist against my mouth. Cold, bitter blood flows over my tongue. Too much. I try to close my throat, but Calista pinches my nose shut.

Held by magic, Fae compulsion, and my own terror, I swallow.