I scanned him up and down. He was chiseled and fine in that prep-school bully kind of way. I could see how he might consider himself to be a good catch. “While it is a lovely offer, I don’t normally go for torturers or d-bags. Or in your specific case, both.”
“That’s a shame. We’d be awfully powerful together, Lily.”
What was that supposed to mean? “How do you know who I am, and why are you messing with me?”
“In case I have to fight you, love. I can’t have you gleaning all my magic tomorrow, now can I?”
“But that’s cheating.”
He shrugged. “I
am
a warlock. And technically I’m sparring with the doll, not you, so it’s not actually cheating, is it?”
“Oh, we’re going to play that way then?”
“I don’t make the rules.”
My swordfinger shot a bolt toward his chest, but before it reached him, he flicked his wrist and shot another bolt of magic at the doll. This time he reached his target. I fell backwards, clutching my stomach.
His magic was dark, and I’m not going to lie, it stung; but it didn’t hurt half as bad as he thought it did. Drawing on what my elders had taught me, I pretended he’d rendered me defenseless. As long as he had access to the doll, I couldn’t beat him, so I tried another way.
“Hated to do that, you know,” he said, approaching me slowly, like a lion eying its prey. “It’s much better to consider me an option so I don’t have to hurt you, but instead, make you stronger. Darker. More like me.”
“Leave me alone,” I pleaded, then lurched in the dirt like I was dying. I rocked back and forth, moaning and groaning. It was quite a show, really.
“Oh, dear.” He knelt beside me and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Now, now.” He patted my back. In a few minutes he’d be fetching me tea and crumpets.
Either he’d completely underestimated me, or this warlock had zero intel into the resilience of witches or the knowledge of how useless warlocks were around our charms. I worked it harder, pretended to sob quietly until I felt his guilt overcome his anger. I waited until his energy was completely even and calm before elbowing him in the gut and knocking him over in the dirt. As he lay there debating whether or not to actually break the rules and hurt me directly, I hummed a spell. The ground squirmed as dried sticks morphed into black snakes binding his ankles and coiling around his wrists.
He tried to wriggle his way out, but the powerful snakes kept him still. I jumped up, aiming my swordfinger at his temple. “Hated to do that, you know,” I said, panting a little from exertion. “Would’ve been better if you’d left that voodoo doll of me well enough alone.”
Logan
He opened his eyes expecting the interior of the tree house, the frightening smell of smoke. Instead, he was met by a fishy odor, like seaweed steaming on a hot beach. When Logan turned to his side, his hipbone jabbed into hard cement. His back was twisted into knots. The thin raggedy blanket he lay on reeked like moist dust and moldy cheese.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and he realized where he was.
The dungeon.
Logan groaned as his mind flooded with memories from earlier in the evening, though the details of how he’d gotten here were as fuzzy as the green moss clinging to the rocks of his punishment.
That woman in his dream. She had to be his mother. He reached for his amulet and found Lily’s.
Wear it for always. Never take it off,
his mother had said. And he had—until he lent it to Lily.
What happened to her after she floated away? What Jacob had told him—that he’d been abandoned on the steps of the Academy—didn’t match up with the caring mother in his dream.
Then he thought of Lily and the fire. He needed to get out of here. Find her. He’d blacked out after Jacob set the brush aflame. She could easily ward that off, but what if he’d had backup?
This wasn’t like the other punishments.
Now, he had something worth protecting: Lily. And a clue to his past he was determined to follow.
Lily
“What were you talking about just now? What makes you think you could make me stronger?”
“I’ll tell you on one condition,” he said, still restrained by hissing snakes.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
“No way, you creep.”
He sighed. “Then I’m afraid it’s too late for us, love. You’ve hurt my feelings.”
“I can hurt more than that. Where did you get the doll?”
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, not my prerogative to help out the gentler sex.”
“Gentler sex? Who’s tied up by serpents, and who’s standing?”
A snake arched up, hissing in his face. His energy was powerful enough to keep it at bay, but not enough to free his wrists and ankles.
“You have me there. But if I really wanted them off me, they’d be off.”
“Do it then.”
“Nah. I’m enjoying your little fetish. Grants me insight into your deeper passions.”
I rolled my eyes. This guy was too much. I glanced over at the doll, and saw the flames creeping closer. My arms stung with the beginnings of blisters. “How do I get the doll out of that hexed star?”
“You can’t.”
I stood over him. “Tell me how.”
“Not yet. Not when we still have so much to talk about.”
“We have nothing to talk about, because you won’t answer my questions! How do I get her out of that star? If I show up to the Gleaning tomorrow with third degree burns, you’ll be disqualified. Now let us go.”
He glanced at the doll, before admitting his bluff. “If you call back the snakes, I’ll pull back the flames.”
I eyed him with deep suspicion.
Never trust a warlock
. But I could always get the snakes back on him if he didn’t make good on his deal. I was their master.
“I’ll loosen them, but I’m not letting you go.”
“Ditto.”
“You first,” we said at the same time. I frowned. He smiled.
“Count of three?” he suggested, his voice light and flirty. Who was this guy?
“On my go.”
I loosened the serpents’ grip with my spell as I watched the flames move back from the doll.
“Ah, much better,” he said, moving his muscles around in the dirt.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, and then I’m going to bring in my elders, who will report you to the Congression. How did you hex that doll, and why were you torturing me with it?”
“As much as I’d love to share”—he gestured sarcastically toward the already-fading scar I left on his temple—“I’m afraid I must plead the fifth.”
“You’re really annoying.”
He half smiled. “I do get that from time to time.”
My glare made his smile stretch wider. His refusal to show any of the pain he must have been feeling might’ve been slightly attractive if he wasn’t so maddening.
“You know, I saw someone who looked just like you earlier. Except she was very blinding.”
“You did? Did you speak to her?”
“She was much too fast.” He seemed sincere.
“Which way did she go?”
“I would point, but…” He eyed the snakes with a little shrug. Was he enjoying this?
He clearly didn’t know who she was, so I changed tactics. “If you felt you had to torture a voodoo doll of me, you must really fear fighting me tomorrow. So what makes me so intimidating?”
He blinked. “You’re the leader, obviously. And you’re special, or so I hear.”
“Maybe I am. But a true Son of Darkness would be glad to face me with my full powers.”
His expression darkened. I’d hit a sore spot.
I pushed further. “Why would I even be paired with a coward like you? A truly great spellspinner would never try to weaken his or her opponent.”
“Oh yeah? Then what have you been doing with Logan this whole time?”
That stopped me. “I haven’t been weakening him.”
“Why should I believe you? You’re a witch; you can’t be trusted.”
“You don’t know anything about the two of us.”
“I know I’m not the only one bending the rules.”
Crap.
I couldn’t afford to waste any more time on this dead-end conversation. I needed to get the hexed doll out of the star ASAP. “Give me the doll, or you’ll seriously regret it.”
“Go ahead, do your worst. I can take it,” he said in a toying voice. He tipped his head back on the dirt and stared up at the stars. I felt him tense, readying for an excruciating onslaught of snakebites.
“Believe me, I’d like that, but it’s not my style.”
“Not your style? Then what was all that a second ago?”
“Self-defense.”
“Nah, you went a bit further than that.”
“Not really.”
His digs were starting to get to me.
“So, go ahead. I can take it.”
“No. Just give me the doll, and get off our turf.”
I wasn’t afraid to hurt him, but witches opposed torture as an interrogation method. After generations of being tortured under the hands of puritanical lunatics, witches honored our slain ancestors’ memory by not repeating their captors’ cruel mistakes.
This warlock clearly was not of the same school, however. When he realized I wasn’t going to strike, he lost interest in my snakes and turned his energy toward stoking his star of fire.
I screamed as invisible flames licked my arm. Chanting desperately, I started covering my skin with ice.
But it took too much energy, and the warlock was starting to wrest his limbs from the snakes. Panic threatened to consume me like the fire countering my ice. But suddenly, through a blanket of smoke and ash, a fox-like creature dove through the flames, snatched up the doll in its mouth, and flew off into the forest with it.
Exhausted and dizzy from smoke inhalation, I collapsed on the ground. I was losing consciousness, and it took the very last of my energy to douse the flames.
The warlock stood over me, and I braced for a blow to the head. Instead, he leaned in closer and smoothed back my hair as if I were a child. The look in his eyes was not the look of a nurturer, however; it was dark and focused. In a strange language, he breathed a few sentences in my ear before taking off into the forest after the doll. Then everything went black.
Logan
Logan drifted in and out of consciousness, hoping for another dream. A memory of what had happened next, after his mother disappeared. Before now, his early memories had been locked away from him. Now something was bringing them back. The amulet?
“Logan, it’s me.” Chance’s voice startled him from his reverie. “I’m here to spring you, man. Your girl’s in serious trouble.”
Lily
I heard whispering and slowly opened my eyes.
Silhouetted by moonlight, two hooded figures were leaning over me, pouring warm liquid down my chest. My swordfinger twitched, registering their male energy. Was that psycho warlock back to hurt me? Then I turned and saw the fox-like animal that had rescued the voodoo doll—rescued me—and my fear turned to joy. He’d brought friends.
“It looks like she’s starting to come to. Lily? Can you hear me?”
“Logan?” Overwhelmed with an immeasurable amount of like for him, I reached up my hands so he could help me to my feet. Just his presence energized me and dimmed my pain. “You’re okay? How did you get away from Jacob?”
“Chance snuck me out to help undo this voodoo curse someone put on you.”
“He was blond with a British accent. Who is he?”
“Jude.” Logan’s eyes flared. He and Chance exchanged a meaningful look.
When Logan turned back to me, his expression softened. “You’re safe now.” His fingers ran down my arms, and I flinched. “Lil, you’re burned!” he said. “Did Jacob do this, or Jude?”
“Jude.”
“I’m going to kill him!”
Logan held his palm over my arm. Cool, healing energy flowed down, and within seconds, my blisters were smooth.
“You healed me. That’s twice.”
“I know.”
“Yet you claim to be a warlock?” I was teasing, but my words packed a punch. There was more to this, more to Logan, than either of us knew.
“Did he hurt you anywhere else, Lily?”
“I inhaled a lot of smoke,” I admitted.
Logan pulled me to him and pressed his palms against my back. “Breathe.”
My next breath felt like pure oxygen. After several more deep breaths, my headache vanished.
“I’m never going to get used to that,” I whispered into the safe crook of his neck.
“I’m never going to get used to this.” He half-smiled, pulling me tighter against his chest.
“Coming to my rescue?” I teased.
“Something like that.”
“Um, sorry to interrupt, but we’re sort of on a time frame. I got to get this guy back into his dungeon cell before Jacob finds out. So. Whenever you two are ready.”
I examined the doll in his hands, wrinkling my nose at the lopsided button eyes, and ugly purple dress. Its hair was yellow yarn.
“This is hideous. It doesn’t look like me at all.”
Chance laughed. “They aren’t meant to be exact replicas.”
Logan wasn’t smiling. “What was Jude doing to it?” he asked me.
“Torturing it with his swordfinger, trying to weaken me before the Gleaning.”
“That bastard!”
“It was kind of weird. At first, he was like…flirting with me. Trying to get me to ‘consider’ him instead of you. He said he could make me stronger.”
“He’s messing with you. And next time I see him, he’s dead.”
“He already has a pretty nasty headache.”
“What did you do?”
I pointed to my temple. “Zapped him. Then I had him trapped with snakes, but he was at an advantage, because of the doll. The fox saved me, though, and Jude took off after him.”
“Good boy, Clay,” Logan said, patting its head.
“Clay?” I rubbed my eyes. Maybe Jude did clock me before he left.
“He shifts.”
“Huh. This night has been full of shifters.” I turned my attention back to the doll. “Not to mention creepy replicas of me. What is this fabric, anyway? It looks familiar. Like the fabric of my Converse.” I remembered taking them off at the beach yesterday. Leaving them by the bonfire with Daisy and Jonah when I walked to the shore with Logan. “Jude must have followed you to the beach. That’s how he knows about us.”