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  Navigating her way from the security room to the main restaurant was difficult, but she made it, and was just beginning to relax when she realised that everyone had disappeared again.

  Something wasn't right.

  Chapter Seven

  The room was dim, and every limb ached; Adam was aware of the pain even before he opened his eyes, his head still resting on Sadie's lap, though gentle fingers petted through his hair, which seemed to be far less matted with blood but his scalp was still tender. He glanced up, and Sadie gave him a gentle smile, obviously still tired despite how long she'd been unconscious. Truth be told, he knew exactly how she felt. Being completely out of it wasn't exactly restorative. He hadn't dreamt, so there was no escape from the terrifying situation they were in. Being scared was exhausting. Adam pushed the feeling away and forced himself to sit up, noting with surprise that their restraints had been changed, and they now had more freedom, just enough chain length to reach down and touch their toes, but not so much that it would aid in their escape.

  Blinking against the dark, which was beginning to settle but was still bright enough to confuse his tired eyes, Adam made out the shape of a plate by his legs, and a plastic tumbler of water beside that. Sadie had a matching set, the plate pulled water and the sandwich he could now make out nibbled experimentally.

  “Is it poisoned?” Adam asked, only half joking. At this point, he truly wouldn't put anything past the hunters who had taken them from the restaurant. They were obviously deranged and dangerous.

  “No, I just want to make it last, you know, in case they take ages to feed us again.” Sadie answered, her throat obviously raw. The water was doing nothing to aid it, and he felt a hopeless wave of anger pass over him at his inability to help. One thing he was good at, however, was portraying a best case scenario to cling to. He'd done it often with Rose, and he could do it now.

  “I don't think that'll be a problem.” he answered, tugging at the cuffs to indicate their length. “They're loosening the reins. That probably means they're going to try and recruit us soon.” For all his horror at Gloria's decision, her confession that she was only in their ranks to act as a double agent had offered him a new solution beyond do or die.

  “When they ask, we have to say yes.” Adam continued, reaching out to grab her hand to comfort her shock. Of course, she had no idea what he was planning, and he had no way to tell her. “Please, just trust me, okay? They're going to kill us if we don't say yes.” His eyes tried to convey that he had a plan, but he had no idea if she picked up on it or not.

  Before she could answer, the door burst open, and a man with jet black hair swept elegantly off of his forehead walked in, dressed from head to toe in what had to be designer business wear. He was far from what you might expect from a witch hunter, and Adam began to wonder just how many he might have met over the years, disguised in white collar jobs and perhaps even serving him at his local coffee house. It was an unnerving thought, and Adam chuckled nervously, which made the man raise his eyebrow, watching and judging the state of his captives.

  “You haven't eaten.” The Man observed, his voice polished and his accent virtually unfathomable. The more he revealed about himself, the less he made sense to Adam, who found himself trying to study him as intently as he was sure The Man was studying them.

  “Just woke up. Hard to eat with a concussion.” Adam made a point to inject as much scorn into his voice as possible, so that there was no doubt that he was not happy with their treatment. He did this mostly to keep The Man's attention on him and not on Sadie, who seemed to have gone as white as a sheet, clearly intimidated. She hadn't been great with conflict since the battle with her body snatcher, and Adam had to constantly remind himself that the Sadie he'd initially gotten to know had really been Beth, a ghost whose refusal to move on had left her milling around the Spirit realm and had driven her to attempt to merge their worlds and potentially end death entirely. With all of that in mind, it was understandably difficult to get to know Sadie – he doubted that Sadie even knew herself now.

  “Yes. Well, you should probably eat.” The Man (Adam wished he would introduce himself already) sounded like a disapproving parent, fed up with the capers of his children. Maybe it was meant to be reassuring, but it only made Adam's skin crawl. He deliberately avoided answering.

  The silence seemed to provide him with the push he needed to reach his point, and he glanced down at the chained witches.

  “We are at war. As much as it violates our primary objective, it seems that we have no option other than to form an alliance with the witches -”

  “This is how you ask for an alliance? I'd hate to see what you do to your enemies!” Adam burst out, unable to help himself. He knew he should stay quiet, but the notion that they were doing this to gain an alliance seemed preposterous at best. Surely this was some kind of trap?

  The Man glared at him in obvious distaste. Whether it was because he was a witch or because he had been interrupted, Adam had no idea. Whoever he was, he kept his cards close to his chest. It was infuriating, since Adam couldn't work out his weaknesses or which of his phrases were intended to catch them out. Maybe he'd seen too many spy movies, but he'd convinced himself that The Man had to be some kind of government agent.

  “We'll do it.” Sadie piped up from the edge of his hearing, and he turned to her in surprise. Despite his earlier insistence, it seemed that he was the one intent on wrecking this chance, and she was saving him from himself. He stared at her for a moment, mustering up the gratitude he knew he was supposed to feel, something he was struggling to draw out – even though it had all been his idea, he resented her speaking for him, and it was ridiculous. Sadie was doing what was best for them both.

  The Man turned and smiled down at Sadie. Everything in his stance oozed condescension, and Adam wanted to smack him in the mouth. Fierce protectiveness made him growl under his breath, choosing to respect Sadie and let her continue to speak for herself.

  “What will you do? You have so few facts, yet you jump so willingly into war?”

  Sadie nodded, wincing as she straightened herself up. It was obvious that they had beaten her pretty badly too, and Adam's resentment instantly evaporated. If she were as worried about him as he was about her, it was entirely understandable that she would speak for him and try to save his life as well as her own. Not to mention that her trust in him was something he could never repay, especially not after the thoughts he had just entertained.

  “I want to live.” Sadie answered simply. “We've already won one battle, so I reckon we have higher odds of surviving out there than we do in here if we say no.”

  There was a pause while her words were pondered, and then he spoke again.

  “Very well. You, do you also consent?” The Man asked, and Adam nodded his agreement, gritting his teeth. The Man responded by removing his suit jacket and draping it over a chair, revealing that he was muscular and toned beneath his smart shirt, with black tattoos snaking each arm, obscured but visible through the thin material. It made Adam re-evaluate his opinion instantly; a secret agent would never have so many identifying marks on show.

  “I'm Jeffrey.” The Man, now Jeffrey, informed them. Adam laughed out loud right as he was about to continue what he was saying, cutting him off. “...And you are very rude, Adam Dyzek.” he added, clearly distracted. “You have a very curious name, did you know that? It's actually two first names. Dyzek is Polish, and it means 'Earth lover'. It's also an indication of following the Goddess Demeter, who was in charge of the entire life cycle. Now, Adam... how mundane, am I right? Unless you consider its roots more carefully. It actually means son of the Red Earth. I've been led to believe you have a rather remarkable gift for causing earthquakes. One might make the conclusion that your gift could end the entire world's life cycle. That would make you incredibly dangerous, and yet here I am, asking for your help, despite being determined to eradicate all non-human threats.”

  Adam had fallen silent; the name etymo
logy wasn't news to him, nor was the assertion that he had the potential to be very dangerous, but it was unnerving to hear it come from the same lips which had just informed him that, in a different world, he would be dead on sight. Jeffrey smiled, distant and self-assured.

  “I see I have your attention, now. Welcome to the conversation.” he looked between them, then looked to Sadie specifically, obviously having decided she was far more worth his time. “I'm not going to tell you more than I feel is necessary. If you want to live, as you claim, this should be acceptable to you. Your position as coven leaders is both a hindrance and an asset to us – and yes, I'm well aware that you're not going to simply hand over the lives of your witches to a witch hunter, but I'm confident that, in time, you'll see the threat we're facing is far more deadly and important than our age-old game of cat and mouse.”

  Adam wouldn't exactly have phrased the death of potentially millions of their kind as a game, but he reminded himself to bite his tongue. As much as he wanted to, interrupting now and really alienating Jeffrey was counter productive to his plans, and could not only get himself killed but also Sadie, and he simply wasn't going to let that happen.

  When no one broke the silence that followed, Jeffrey gave a nod, and a previously unseen hulk of a man moved over, crouching down to unfasten their cuffs, giving Adam's wrist a sharp yank as if to say he disapproved of the witch, then stepped back again, hesitating as he was dismissed by Jeffrey in French. For all of the lessons he'd had, Adam had never really picked up on the French which had been mandatory in school; he'd been far more interested in running track before his mother's death, and after that, he'd spent the bulk of his time making sure his sister was well cared for. Most people spoke English, so it hadn't seemed particularly important to learn.

  Jeffrey inclined his head to the left, inviting them to walk with him out of the room, and Adam stood with a wince, offering his hand to Sadie, who curled her own around it, unable to hide the soft whimper which spilled from her lips as she put weight on her ankle, which she had obviously injured when they'd been grabbed at the restaurant. Adam hadn't seen them grab her; she'd wandered outside after a phone call from her lawyers about her parents estate had upset her, something which had obviously been a ruse to either get her to take the call outside or to get her to take a moment to compose herself, separating them either way and making them easier to take down. The fact that she'd left her phone in her jacket, draped over a chair, was just a bonus to them. He threw his arm under hers, helping her to stand, and she took a few steps to correct her stance before pushing him off. Apparently, she was annoyed at him, and he wondered if she hadn't forgiven him for telling her to make this choice. He only hoped he'd have a chance to explain his reasons before they met a sticky end.

  “Come.” the witch hunter ordered, leading the way out of the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Something definitely wasn't right. Lila felt the crippling weight upon her senses before she really understood it, pure instinct causing her to spin on the spot and hunch into a defensive posture. Apprehension built and rose to a crescendo, her muscles tight and prepared to fight, though she had no idea what she was up against.

  It occurred to her that her surroundings were becoming darker, and it seemed like she was outside in the middle of the night, rather than in a brightly lit restaurant with indigo darkness pressing against the windows. Somewhere out there were her friends; who knew how long she'd spent in the Spirit world?

  An unhinged chuckle made her stomach drop, icy cold trickling down her back, fists unclenching in her surprise and horror. She knew that sound, and it was behind her. Training alone guided her, her magick instructing her where her mind had completely folded into a useless jumble of nothingness. Her foot connected with something solid enough to react, sending the other figure stumbling back.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and the malevolent figure lurking in it. Beth, not as trapped as she had hoped, but obviously unable to leave the Spirit world, which was a small mercy. Lila's breath shuddered out from barely parted lips, the air around her cold enough to erupt with white spirals every time she exhaled.

  The older witch grinned, her teeth showing decay which hadn't been present the last time they had fought; she was diminished in strength without the aid of a corporeal form, but obviously still dangerous. The mere sight of her was enough to make Lila's blood run cold, and she remembered that this was the woman who had murdered her parents. Returning to her status quo hardly seemed like a fair exchange, and Lila definitely felt cheated on behalf of her parents, coven and friends.

  “You bitch.” She hissed, anger getting the better of her. Beth's eyes seemed to shine a little brighter in response to the challenge, and Lila knew that there was no way she was getting out of here easily. Drawing back her hand, she felt the power of death itself flow to her fingertips, slicing forward in a whip-like motion as she thrust her arm forward, the power curling around Beth's ankle and yanking her off of her feet. For just a moment, the smile slipped as Beth realised that Lila was not weakened here but strengthened in the place where her power was born. Lila could feel it crackling through her veins in response to her anger, and the ghostly witch disappeared, leaving her moment of triumph a little deflated.

  She had barely seconds to think about it, however, as Beth reappeared behind her, wrapping one surprisingly solid arm around her throat and squeezing tightly. Attempting to gasp for air, she clawed at unflinching flesh which tore beneath her fingers, a pungent smell of decay causing her to gag even harder, her vision going spotty. She'd read somewhere that this hold could knock someone unconscious in just ten seconds, and sent out a plea to the Universe for help in the moment her vision went black, her hearing the last to go.

  It was answered.

  A flash of crimson-yellow barrelled towards her, colliding with her hip and tossing her aside just in time for her to remain conscious, albeit disorientated. At some point she became aware that what she had seen was Elsie in fiery glory, burning like a sun Goddess and scorching away the darkness surrounding them. Without it, Beth seemed to weaken, stepping back to look both witches over, one still alive and the other with one foot in the grave, suspended thanks to a tainted athame consecrated by murder and sacrifice.

  “You will never win.” Beth chuckled, shrugging as though their strength over her mattered little. “As long as surprises remain on the horizon, you will be distracted. You are, after all, incredibly young and inexperienced. One day, your luck will end, and death will claim you as it claims us all. No one is immune. And then.... then, I will be waiting to make sure you never move on. If I don't get my hands on you again sooner.” she laughed, sounding utterly mad. “So many things you don't know. Oh, if only you knew the biggest of them all.” the ghost clucked her tongue. “Soon enough.”

  Beth rushed at Lila again, but Elsie got there sooner, grabbing Lila by the shoulders and throwing her bodily at the tear in the veil she had created to come to her rescue, sending her tumbling out on the side of life, gasping in pain and cold as she rolled across the concrete. Panic momentarily gripped her as she realised she had dropped the bags she had gone for, but she daren't return.

  Placing her hand on the concrete, her fingers brushed something small and solid, and she realised her ventures hadn't been entirely fruitless. She had Adam's phone, the DVD from the security room and something she must have torn from its chain – a small parakeet keyring with feathery wings. Above all else, this seemed to represent one thing she was most needing at that point: hope.

  Struggling to her feet, Lila tried not to think about the blood she was smearing across the trinket from the grazes on the palms of her hands, or the pain in her knee every time she took a step. Her throat felt tight, and her hair was in disarray, but it had been worth it. She had something, possibly the most important things she could have reclaimed and stolen.

  Turning the corner, she heard Grace's cry of shock as she took in Lila's appearance, while the resigned looks on the
witches faces told her that they too had accepted they were entering into another battle, and that they were just as irritated by it as she was. She didn't feel like a heroine, an avenging angel against the evil of the world – she just felt like a newly turned 19 year old young woman who was completely done with the unreasonable expectations being placed upon her and her friends. The only thing she could do, however, was accept the burden and try to stop it touching the lives of people she loved.

  There was no battle she wouldn't endure for the sakes of her witch family.

  As Grace ran towards her, she made a mental addition to the list for her only civilian friend, who was proving as loyal as any witch, despite being so recently inducted into the club, so to speak. It was a relief to Lila that there were trustworthy civilians out there – she had begun to begrudgingly accept that the people in her life would be limited to the covens alone.