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  Don't punch him... again.

  The mantra played over and over in Adam's head, and Sadie muttered something similar under her breath. There was comfort in knowing that it wasn't just Adam's temper which flared at the sight, sound and impression of the hunter; perhaps it was coded into their DNA, or maybe it was cultivated as they grew up. Then again, it could simply be that the man was unflinchingly cruel and unapologetic for the things they'd experienced since coming here. On the contrary, it was as though he told them in every movement he made, every word he uttered, that they should expect no less. To him, they were clearly little better than mutts in the hands of an abusive owner, there to serve, and to do as they were told every time or face the whip and starvation.

  The problem with mistreating your dogs was that they tended to bite back. Collectively, Adam knew that they would do just that when they were given a chance. Reaching out, he took Sadie's hand, lacing their fingers. They were together on this.

  Chapter Ten

  “Please, don't ask!” Liam sounded distressed; the others had been questioning him from the bed of his truck as he tried to focus on driving, his head hammering as hard as his heart. Ever since he'd switched sides, he'd prayed that this secret wouldn't come out. His fears hadn't been allayed when his sister had appeared next to him in the cab, her gaze unflinching and non-judgemental. He had the impression that she already knew, and his shoulders dropped further, giving him the resemblance of a dog who had been scolded. It was worse than that, though – he didn't know who was going to be affected by his secret and who was about to find out how bad it was.

  The landscape around them was a blur as they drove, and Lila's hair was whipping around her face as she held on to the bars inside the bed of the truck. Her neck was adorned with dark purple bruises, a reminder of what waited for her in the Spirit realm. It was once a place she had felt safe, as long as she followed the rules, but now it was fraught with danger. Beth had to be dealt with, but she had no idea how to defeat someone who was already dead. Her learning curve was going to have to be sharp; she couldn't always rely on instinct – she'd neglected her family books for months, and now understood why her parents insisted on additional reading after school.

  She rejoined to conversation to Liam's protests, and frowned; whatever he was hiding had him jumpy and upset, which was completely unlike him. It had to be more than the fact he'd once been a hunter – that was no longer news. In moments like this, it was hard to remember that he was so much older than them; his time in whatever facility he had been in had changed his world view, and it was hard for him to trust. Oddly, it was endearing. She wanted him to trust, to trust her specifically.

  Liam gripped the steering wheel tightly as he swung the truck into what looked like an office building, the entire place built out of grey stone. Its multitude of windows were blacked out, and appeared to be thick enough to withstand bullets. Lila's magick tingled at her fingertips, suddenly wary, and she could sense the discomfort of her companions, too. After many lifetimes of dodging witch hunters, it was encoded into their DNA to protect themselves.

  The truck stopped diagonally across three parking spaces, and they spilled out. Elsie vanished, no doubt reappearing inside the building. No matter how many times she saw it, it was still a shock when she vanished. Lila tied her hair back, wanting to look like she was doing something to prepare for what was behind the doors. She had no idea how they were getting in, and hoped that no one was going to ask her to figure it out. The place was a fortress.

  As it was, she needn't have worried about the semantics – she hadn't banked on Liam, who took the lead and walked straight up to the front door, leaning down to punch in a code. When the door opened, she raised an eyebrow, and Noah let out a whistle.

  “I'm good with computers, but that was out-of-this-world awesome.” Noah complimented. Troy chuckled awkwardly, then glanced at his boyfriend. It was obvious he hadn't filled him in on everything.

  “No, babe... Liam, he... used to be a witch hunter. It's a long story, and there's details in the records back home. Lynch will know where they are.” Troy explained. Noah looked shocked, which was understandable. Liam, who had been listening in, huffed out a breath to expel his shame.

  “It's honestly a long story, and a mistake. Please, come on guys. They're gonna notice the door is open. It was lucky they hadn't changed the code, yet.” They should have, but perhaps they were waiting on him coming home, sure that he'd switch sides yet again. The thought alone made Liam feel uncomfortable. He really didn't want them to know why he was so special to a group of people who killed witches as an occupation.

  The other witches and Grace, who had been completely silent for a long time, filtered through the door one at a time, with Liam following and closing the door. Grace stepped forward.

  “Liam, take me round first. I'm human – you can say that you came back and brought them a new recruit. I'm a good fighter... maybe we can knock them out so they don't notify anyone else.” she insisted. It was a complicated plan, but there was a chance it might work. He definitely couldn't do it alone, and the others would cause credibility issues as they were also witches.

  Walking round the corner to the security desk, Liam attempted to exude a sense of confidence, but he had so many bad memories of this place, memories he had once been proud of which now made him feel sick to his stomach. It was unsettling, how quickly his opinions changed when he saw the other side of the argument.

  As he knew there would be, there were two security members at the desk, both male and so alike in looks with their bulky frames and dark hair that they could very well be clones. Mentally, Liam decided to call them Lumpy and Bumpy, on account of their size. They would be incredibly difficult to beat, but it was too late. It was time to put on a show.

  “I've come back to report.” he spoke clearly and with authority; he'd held a higher rank than these two prior to his betrayal. The guards looked unconvinced, the one Liam had named Lumpy standing up straighter while Bumpy reached for his gun. “Guys, chill out. She's civilian. She has some pretty awesome fighting skills, and helped me get out of there without blowing my cover. I decided to recruit her.”

  It was a complex lie, but often it was the bigger lie which was easier to believe, since the little ones had obvious points of contention. Larger lies often made people think you wouldn't say it if you meant it, and he knew these two would have no idea if he were working a covert operation. Bumpy's hand moved away from his gun again, and he looked relieved. Liam took Lumpy's arm,tugging him aside as if to speak conspiratorially, while Grace leaned in and began flirting with Bumpy, acting like a cocky teenager who had just been told she had exceptional skills.

  “So, how does this all work? Being a witch hunter. It's so cool that you guys are fighting them. There was some weird stuff here a couple of months ago, I wondered what was going on. Did you fight?” Grace kept talking, keeping him distracted as she leaned forward a little, using her womanly charms to keep his attention firmly on her. She reached out, grabbing his tie lightly and petting it.

  “You don't look like the kind of guy who enjoys wearing a tie... how about we go somewhere and take it off?” she added a wink, glancing at Liam, who twitched two fingers to give her the signal.

  Now.

  Bumpy shifted his weight to stand, no doubt expecting a romp in the closet, and she used his unsteadiness to her advantage. Yanking his tie hard, she heard his head crack off of the counter and a groan slip from his lips. Liam had taken down Lumpy with a knee to the groin and then a crack over the back of his head with the man's own pistol. In a moment of inspiration, Grace grabbed a bottle from the desk, opening it and pouring water over the computers, which spat and fizzled as they died. Well, it had worked for Lila in the restaurant. Granted, that had been a lot more water, but she only had this. Hopefully it would be enough to stall them until they had fetched what they came for.

  The others filtered around the corner after them, their expressions mixed with pr
ide and worry – it was clear who had faith in them and who thought they were getting beaten to within an inch of their life. Grace glanced at Liam, surprised that he was bothering to take the man's gun considering that he was a witch, and then remembering that she was not. In hindsight, disarming anyone who was going to be blocking their exit route seemed like a smart move.

  Climbing over the prone frame of Lumpy, she moved over to Bumpy and hauled his holster from around him, fitting it around her own slender hips. It was far too big a belt, so she looped it back on itself, curling it around and tugging it into a knot. It was passable, and she wasn't going to accidentally shoot herself like Liam might. Then again, he probably had a lot more practice with guns than her and was less likely to make a mistake, even if it were stuffed haphazardly into his belt.

  “You know how to use that?” Liam asked, echoing her thoughts as though he'd been listening to them. Grace shook her head, and he cast another look around before pulling out his own acquisition once more. “Okay, look. We don't have a lot of time, so I'm gonna show you the only bits you need to worry about right now. This little bit releases the magazine – you touch that, you're stuck with one in the chamber, so don't touch. The most important bit right now is this, the safety release. Take this off as soon as you pull your gun, or you've got a very expensive paperweight in your hands.” he smiled weakly. “I don't know how expensive black market guns are going right now, so I wouldn't advise selling it, either.”

  This drew out a chuckle from Grace, who had been peering very seriously at the gun, obviously not a fan before today. Liam, on the other hand, had been shooting since he was sixteen years old, and had even shot people before. He assumed this was obvious to all of them, but again felt no pride in the matter. Glancing back at the others, he tilted his head to the side in a quick jerk.

  “C'mon.” he insisted, then took the lead as they rounded yet another corner. Thankfully, Liam knew this place well, so they managed to go undetected almost right into the heart of the building, where their luck ran out. An alarm sounded throughout, red lights flashing everywhere, and Liam pulled everyone, one by one, into a nearby room, barring it shut just in time for the sound of footfalls outside the door. It sounded like a militia.

  “I feel like I'm in a James Bond movie.” Troy whispered, loud enough for them to hear. Lila rolled her eyes, and Noah closed his hand over his boyfriend's mouth silently. Grace, who had been looking the part of a bodyguard with her newly acquired firearm, cracked a smile but said nothing, painfully aware of the footsteps still hurrying up the hall, albeit in smaller numbers, obviously dwindling away.

  Liam moved past them, using a bookcase to climb up to ceiling level, then patted at the squares on the ceiling until one gave way. Applying force, he slid it out of the way, then shifted up in to the crawl space, beckoning to them to follow, all without making a noise. Troy, on the other hand, made a muffled attempt at saying, see? Tell me this doesn't look like a Bond film, and Noah retaliated with a long-suffering sigh. Lila could easily imagine that this was what everyday life looked like for the couple, minus the climbing through crawlspaces to get away from an evil army of witch hunters.

  What has my life come to? she thought, realising that this practically felt normal. She felt her self-affirmed status as just a normal 19 year old witch slipping away; this took her beyond the level of weird that her coven had dealt with, and she realised why coven leaders always seemed so wise; they had to deal with things their brethren had no experience of. Maybe this had been the real reason they'd shared magick away from their covens – no one but the other leaders really understood what they had to deal with, and aside from the rituals, it surely felt like a vacation. It was hard work trying to appear like you had all of the answers just so that people stopped worrying.

  One by one, they all filtered their way into the crawlspace, with Lila being the last to go. The square was placed back into the space it had come from, and they set off, single file, through the crawlspace. Lila had no idea how Liam knew where he was going in the dark and without seeing the corridors below, but it was as though he had done this a million times before, so she stopped questioning it. Every so often, she would hear a soft 'choo!' and grumbling which sounded decisively Troy-like, muttering about never seeing this side of a James Bond movie. Without his ranting, she doubted she would have coped in the cramped, pitch-black space. His endless talking distracted her from the crushing feeling of cold metal surrounding them at close quarters, and stopped her hands shaking in fear. She'd never been claustrophobic, but this reminded her of the suffocating feeling of entering Spirit, so recent in her memories, and she could barely cope.

  It felt like it took forever, but eventually they reached a part of the ceiling which felt different – colder – and made her feel like her life force was sapping out towards the floor. In front of her, Noah made a soft gagging noise, and Troy shut up. Instinct told her that the only one not experiencing these symptoms would be Grace. Up front, Liam stopped, causing each of them to run into the other, soft groans accompanying this. Before she could ask why, she became aware of voices below; one she didn't recognise, and three she did.

  They'd found them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rose hurt, all over. Her body was covered in bruises and whip marks; her age hadn't mattered to the witch hunters – to them, she was a dangerous weapon, and the man they were with now had been the worst of them all. To most witch hunters, she was worthless and they were only concerned with her when they had something to gain from it, but with Jeffrey it had clearly been personal – he had a reason to take it personally. Hurting witches gave him some selfish sense of satisfaction, and he was particularly brilliant in his torture methods.

  Shamefully, it had been her fault that Adam and Sadie were now in trouble; Adam had mentioned their date before she'd left, and it had been the only way to make the hunters cease their brutality. She'd known instantly that she shouldn't have said it, but it had been too late – they had been on their way to the door as soon as it escaped her lips.

  Now, she was still causing them trouble – this time as the perpetual noose around their necks. She knew that they would never do anything which could get her hurt, so they were effectively muzzled, no matter what her brother was secretly planning. She held his hand only so that she could feel connected to him, to allow him to believe in the lies he told himself for just a second, to pretend that he had even the smallest hope of getting them out of this.

  The witch hunters were too well trained, and no one could convince her otherwise. She was sick and tired of being the damsel in distress, particularly considering what had happened a few months ago. If she were given the chance, she would sacrifice her own life to free them. She wasn't scared to die, not any more. Quiet discussions with Elsie had told her that she really wouldn't feel much at the point her soul left her body. She clung to that.

  Jeffrey took delight in telling them how long and painful her death would be, but she didn't care. Survival seemed like the less likely outcome, and she would make sure to take at least this man out – he was an asset to the hunters, and she would be an asset to her friends.

  Her muscles coiled just enough for Adam to notice, alarm flashing over his face. She was just about to launch herself at the man, to wrestle the activator from his hands, when there was a loud crash, and five bodies dropped from the ceiling. She didn't recognise them at first; they were dirty and their faces were hidden from view, but as they rose to their feet from a crouched position, she realised she knew the flash of blonde hair, the curves of Liam's muscles beneath his shirt, and the awkward way Lila pulled her hair into a bun when she was focused on something entirely different.

  She didn't recognise two of the figures; one who fell back a little, realising his strength wasn't in fighting, and a girl who raised a gun to point it at Jeffrey. Of everyone here, she seemed to be the least sickened by power loss, and Rose felt a sense of admiration while she watched.

  She dropped Ad
am's hand and stepped forward, letting her power fly out and sensing the walls around her. Rose didn't know how unusual it was for her to have the ability to use her powers here; Onyx was known as the stone of nightmares, probably because of the way it drained a witch and fed their power into an endless abyss. It was the opposite of their life spark.

  Jeffrey, momentarily shocked by the arrival of their guests, was at a loss on what to do. He was seriously outnumbered, especially since he knew that most of these witches would quickly figure out a way around the protections on this corridor like Rose had; they were all exceptionally strong, with the exception of Noah and Grace, neither of whom he knew a thing about, and therefore didn't know if they had other talents. His hand closed around a small metal box, and the worry had momentarily felt slipped away. He drew it out, keeping it close to his hip and firmly under his control.

  “Ah-ah.” he scolded, and felt the gazes of the newcomers settle on the box at the same moment as Adam shouted out.