Chapter 5

After turning off the M4, they barreled down an empty one-lane road lined with hedgerows. At last, the car slowed, and they turned into a small driveway. A gate stood before them, flanked by stone columns. To the right, tufts of frozen vegetation dotted brown fields stretching out into the darkness.

Isolated, secluded, and alone with a complete nutter. Former Ursula—or F.U., as Ursula was now thinking of her prior self—had a lot to answer for.

She glanced out the driver’s window at a small hill with a flattened top. Bare trees protruded from it, like skeletal hands clawing out of graves. She stiffened. The look of this place turned her blood to ice.

Kester turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car, walking around to the back. Ursula watched him, her pulse racing as he rummaged through the boot. Panic rising, she yanked on the manacle, but her hand remained stuck. He’s going to pull out a gun and blow my head off.

After yanking out a dark grey jacket, he crossed toward Ursula’s door, pulling it open. A blast of icy air flooded the cabin, and Ursula’s mouth went dry as she looked up at him. She swallowed hard, not yet willing to move. Whatever the trial was, her best chance of survival was probably to get the hell out of here.

He held out his hand. “I’ll need your phone.”

Still manacled, she jammed her free hand into her back pocket and pulled out her phone with a shaking hand. She passed it to him, watching as he slipped it into his coat. Dread welled in her chest. He was enormous and strong, and she didn’t think she could outrun him. She’d have to fight him, though her chances weren’t good there, either.

“Wear this.” Kester handed Ursula the jacket, then leaned over her, unlocking the handcuff with a gold key. “Don’t try anything stupid. You won’t outrun me.”

Christ. Can he read my thoughts? Stepping out of the car, she slipped into the grey parka, welcoming its warmth. If she was going to fight him in remote fields, she didn’t need the added disadvantage of hypothermia. She pulled up the hood, eyeing him cautiously. You didn’t give a jacket to someone you wanted to murder, did you? Then again, he was obviously stark raving mad.

A beep sounded as he locked the doors with the key fob. “I’m going to make sure that we’re alone. Stay here.” Clouds of breath bloomed around his face.

Like hell I’m going to stay here.If she strained her eyes, she could see lights shining on the other side of the fields. There was a faint smell of wood smoke in the air. As soon as he was gone she’d jump the fence, sprint across the field, and run to the nearest house to dial 999. The next time she’d see Kester’s pretty face would be on the evening news.

He turned away from her, then glanced back with a wolfish grin. “You should know that if you decide to run, I’ll sniff you out before you can get 100 meters. It’s only fair to warn you.”

Sniff me out? Creep.She shivered, trying not to picture a madman sniffing around her ankles.

Kester faced the berm, tilting back his head. He began to mutter.

What happened next went beyond creepy and right into the realm of pure terror.

As he spoke, his body began to tremble. Panic spread through Ursula as she watched the side of his face transform. His nose protruded, and his clothes disappeared into dark fur. With a sharp crack, his spine lurched forward, bones snapping as they repositioned. Where Kester had been only moments before, now there stood an enormous black hound.

When it turned to Ursula, the beast’s eyes glowed green.

Ursula’s heart stopped.

She stumbled back toward the car, gaping. Kester isn’t human. It’s real. Witches, magic—the fire goddess, my condemned soul. Her world tilted.

The beast prowled toward her, sniffing the air before emitting a growl than rumbled through her bones.

She tried to steady the shaking in her hands, balling her fingers into fists. I’m losing my mind.

Then the hound turned, bounded up the berm, and disappeared into the darkness.

Alone by the Lotus,Ursula felt a cold wind bite through her clothes. Kester’s transformation from man to hound had shattered her very understanding of reality, and her blood roared in her ears. For a moment, she wondered if she’d hallucinated the whole scene.

Maybe she’d stolen this car, dreamt up a beautiful dog-man, and convinced herself that her life had a purpose—that she wasn’t just a screwed-up, unemployed loser, but was part of a new magical reality.

Or maybe Madeleine was right. Witches were real, and Kester was one of them—just like the monsters who had terrorized Boston.

She watched the snow drifting to the ground, trying to root herself in reality. A sudden ability to conjure fire with her thoughts wasn’t exactly normal. Still, she’d assumed there was a scientific explanation she just didn’t know about. It wasn’t like she’d spent a lot of time in biology classrooms, so maybe she’d missed something.

But magic and werewolves were the stuff of fairy stories. And she didn’t want to believe in them, because if magic was real then maybe the gaping-eyed monsters of her nightmares were real, too. A gut-churning image flickered in her memory—a beautiful man with midnight eyes, and a smile cold as death… She shook her head, pushing the image beneath the surface.

Her breath came thick and ragged. Focus, Ursula. Did I really just see a man transform into a hound? Or have I lost my mind? The most likely explanation was that she was a mental case—a newly unemployed mental case—with imaginary magical powers. Perhaps she had only just now come to her senses, alone in a field with a stolen car. But mental cases didn’t really come to their senses so suddenly, did they?

So what the hell do I do now? Do I run, or will that beast hunt me down and tear the flesh from my bones?

A distant shriek pierced the frozen night, and a moment later the hound bounded down the slope. Blood dripped from its jaws. Her stomach flipped, and panic threatened to overwhelm her. She stepped back again, her calves thudding against the Lotus’s fender.

Panting, the beast retracted its claws, and its snout shortened. As Kester’s spine straightened, clothing spread over his body and the fur disappeared, revealing the smooth skin of a movie star.

Her breath came in short, sharp bursts. No, she hadn’t finally cracked. People didn’t assess their own sanity while they were hallucinating, which meant that Kester was telling the truth. Apparently, Ursula’s soul belonged to a fire goddess.

Bloody hell.What the hell had F.U. been doing with her life?

Kester wiped a hand across his mouth. “Looks like we’re alone.” He followed Ursula’s eyes to the blood staining the snow. “Sorry about that. I was hungry.”

Her fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms. Who did he just kill? “Did you—” she stammered, “just eat someone?”

Kester smiled wolfishly. “Not a person. What sort of monster do you think I am? Just an old ewe I found on my way back here. Put her out of her misery to be perfectly honest.” He scratched his cheek. “She shouldn’t have been outside in this weather.”

Ursula exhaled. A sheep. It was only a sheep.

Kester glanced at her. “We can’t talk all night. We have business to attend to, since you wanted the damn trial.”

“I have no idea what’s going on. F.U. wanted it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Former Ursula. It’s what I call the version of myself I can’t remember.”

He glared at her like she was the mad one—as if he hadn’t just eaten a raw sheep—then crossed toward the car, clicking open the boot. The car lights shone on his dark hair while he rummaged around.

Straightening, he pulled out a long object wrapped in black leather. With a flick of his wrist he yanked the sheath away, revealing an ancient sword. Strange patterns wove and writhed along its iron blade as though it were alive, and the air left her lungs.

Okay. Now I know how he intends to kill me.