A Lying Witch Book Four Page 2

  She opened the back door and frowned down at Max.

  I sucked in several grounding breaths, trying to use them to give me the strength I needed to cut past the pain. Keeping one hand locked against the smooth side of the car for support, I managed to push to my knees then to my feet.

  Bridgette was peering in through the back door at Max. I caught a glimpse of the side of her face, and it made my stomach sink like a torpedoed ship.

  I shifted toward her, heart hammering in my chest. “What is it? Is he okay? Tell me he can be cured. Tell me he’ll be okay.”

  Bridgette didn’t face me. It seemed she couldn’t. She shifted back, locked a hand on her mouth, and sucked in a hasty breath through her white-knuckled fingers. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she said. “But we’ll try to help. Of course we will.” Bridgette shifted back and made a wide motion of her arm toward the door to the building opposite us. It opened, and several people I recognized as witches rushed out. In a matter of minutes, they had Max out of the car and in through the front door.

  Bridgette wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me walk. By the time we were inside, I was almost ready to collapse. Almost, because I had absolutely no intention of letting my eyes close for any extended period of time until I knew exactly what was wrong with Max.

  I kept staring at him as if I’d never be able to take my eyes off him again.

  They took him through the building into a back room. It had large, comfortable looking couches, and they rested him down on one.

  Sarah appeared from somewhere, and the second she saw Max was the second her face seemed to fall off. True horror shifted in her gaze, and it made my stomach turn.

  I shrugged off Bridgette’s grip and took a hobbling step toward Sarah. “What’s going on? Please tell me what’s going on,” I said, practically screaming when no one answered my garbled questions immediately.

  Sarah turned to me, her beautiful dress twisting hard against her legs and banging over her slender knees. “I don’t exactly know what’s wrong with him. We’ll find out, and we’ll help. First things first,” she looked down at my injuries, “you need to sit down before you fall down.”

  I pressed my lips together. I intended to fight, but that was when Bridgette leaned in and locked a supportive and yet authoritative hand on my back.

  “She’s right, kid. Just sit down now, or you’ll fall down later. We all know you want to be by Max’s side, so I’d suggest the latter.”

  I didn’t fight her as she hooked an arm under my elbow and led me toward one of the couches. As soon as I sat in it, I swear my body tried to give up. A new wave of nausea and fatigue crashed through me, and I fought to keep my eyes open.

  Sarah walked over to several witches by the door and began mumbling something to them in quiet, quick, worried tones.

  “What’s wrong with him? Please just tell me what’s wrong with him?” I kept demanding.

  Bridgette reached out a supportive hand and planted it on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Everyone’s doing everything they can. You’ve got to relax and see to your own injuries.”

  “I don’t care about them.”

  I tried to shrug Bridgette off, but she just sniggered.

  “Sure, that’s why you’re having trouble keeping your eyes open. Now come here.”

  Though I could have fought her, I chose not to as she pulled something from her pocket and handed it to me. It was a stone. One of those stones you see in new-age stores with various symbols like happy, love, and peace carved over them. Hold them, and they are meant to help you manifest such forces in your life.

  Despite the harrowing situation, I frowned at her pointedly. “I really don’t think this is gonna help.”

  She smiled and nodded down at me. “Give it a try. Hold it against your chest and rub it slowly and rhythmically with your thumb, taking exactly two seconds to rub the outer circumference. Got it?”

  I kept frowning at her, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to argue. So I clutched the stone tightly in my hand and brought it to my chest. I started rubbing. I honestly didn’t expect it to do anything whatsoever. But the more I rubbed it, the more it appeared to have an effect on me. In several seconds, relief washed over me.

  I faced Bridgette. “What the hell is this?”

  Bridgette offered a tensed smile in return. “It will only work as long as you keep rubbing it. So, for the love of god, don’t take your fingers off it. It will take us a while to get you some proper medical attention.” With that, Bridgette returned her attention to Sarah and the several other witches who were still discussing something in low, muttered, nervous tones.

  I returned my attention to Max. He was just lying there on a couch, his eyes still open, a shadow still passing across his irises. A sense of true dread welled in my gut. It felt as if I’d just swallowed a stone and the damn thing was trying to drag me through the center of the earth.

  My grip slackened around the healing stone, and it dropped to my lap. As soon as I stopped methodically rubbing it, a wave of nausea and tiredness took me. I rocked back on the couch, almost falling unconscious. But I used my last scrap of reason to grab the stone back up. I held it as tightly as I could. Bloodied, stiff fingers wrapping so hard around the carved rock, it would have taken a crowbar to pry it back. And a magical crowbar, at that.

  A frown pressed across my lips as I finally wrenched my attention off Max and concentrated instead on what the hell was happening.

  It had to be him. Didn’t it? Goddammit, it had to be Max’s shadow – McCain. It couldn’t be a coincidence that some kind of embodied darkness was flickering through Max’s gaze. It had to be him.

  My hand clenched so tightly around the stone, I could have shattered it and fractured my fingers. I kept ticking my gaze toward Bridgette, Sarah, and the other witches. Though my gaze was kind of bleary considering the amount of damage I’d put my body through, I could still make out how seriously concerned everybody looked. And that just made me feel all the sicker. A nervous, tense energy welled in my body, and I longed to jump up and do something about it. But what the hell could I do? Fake fortunes and well-placed lies weren’t going to save Max. I was totally and utterly out of my depth.

  Or was I? A sudden, uncomfortable thought flickered in my mind. It was like a flame on the darkest night.

  There was a way. There was always a way to solve my problems. There was the future, to be exact.

  I shoved my hand so hard against my face, I could have pushed my eyes through the back of my skull.

  I could use it – the power. Try to find some way to save Max. Maybe it was the only way to save him….

  I heard soft footsteps, and I yanked my hand from my face to see Bridgette staring down at me with a crumpled, compassionate expression. “It’s okay. It isn’t as bad as it seems. You did the right thing bringing him here. We have the best medical witches in the country. We’ll find a way to save him. You just sit there, keep rubbing that stone, and hold onto your hope, kid.”

  I didn’t answer, just stared at her. Maybe there was something about my exact gaze, because Bridgette frowned. “How did you manage to get away from the Lonely King, anyway? And did you finally find out what it costs?”

  “What?”

  “During your fight with the Lonely King – however the heck you defeated him – did you figure out what your magic costs you?”

  I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. I stared at her in slack-jawed horror.

  Maybe Bridgette was a mind reader, because her cheeks slackened. “You did, didn’t you?” she replied, voice careful.

  I pressed my lips together and lodged my tongue against them. I couldn’t answer.

  She kept staring down at me. “What does it cost you?” she asked after a lengthy pause as she obviously assessed my expression.

  “I don’t know,” I lied.

  She looked at me, and it was damn clear she didn’t believe what I was saying. “You do know. Now what does it cost?” she demanded o
nce more.

  I jerked my gaze off her and settled it back on Max pointedly. “I don’t have time for this,” I said weakly.

  Bridgette pulled up a chair and sat beside me. “What does it cost you?” She brought up a hand and settled it on her stomach. “Nothing comes for free. I know that. I’ve been practicing magic my whole life. Everyone here knows that. We also know that the more powerful magic is, the more it costs you. Your abilities are amazing – you can see into the future, change the present. So what does it cost you?”

  I didn’t answer. God, I just wanted to ignore her and sit on this seat in total silence until Max finally woke up. But I couldn’t, could I? And though it was the last thing I wanted, I found my lips slowly parting open. “It costs me my future,” I said with a distracted, detached voice as if I were talking about nothing more offensive than the weather.

  She didn’t ask me to clarify. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her cheeks pale.

  “Every time I see the future,” I said, rapidly losing the detached edge as my voice became weak and muffled, “I lose the ability to decide anything. What I see, I do. And the more I use my powers,” my voice well and truly broke now, “the harder it is to get away from them. I barely escaped the last time I tried.” I dropped the healing stone and didn’t care as a wave of pain powered through me, slamming into me with all the force of a tidal wave.

  Bridgette sat there in total silence and stared at me.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” I interjected, still leaving the stone on my lap despite the fact the pain was getting worse and worse, “I have to use my powers again. It’s the only way to save Max.” I locked a hand on the carved arm of the chair and pushed up.

  Instantly, Bridgette was beside me, pushing a hand on my shoulder and forcing me back down. “This is… this is serious,” she managed through a tight breath. “And you’re wrong. Your powers aren’t the only way to save Max.” She hesitated. “We still don’t know exactly what’s happening to him, but just give us a chance. Chi, don’t you dare use your powers if they cost you this much.”

  I pressed my lips into a mirthless smile and stared at her. “What choice do I have?” I began to close my eyes.

  That would be when she leaned over, grabbed my shoulders, and gave me an unholy shake. The kind of shake that could jostle your head clean off.

  I opened my eyes and stared at her. Bridgette leaned in, her smile not exactly kind. “I said don’t you dare use your powers if they cost you this much. Especially if you used them recently against the Lonely King,” she said. “The more often you use them, the harder it will be to break free from them. And if you’re right, and they lock you into a future you don’t get to pick, then they’re not worth it,” she said simply and firmly.

  I stared at her, unable to mask my surprise. “Of course they are worth it if they can save people.”

  She shook her head, and there was a bitter edge to the move. “It happened to my mom, you know,” she interjected. “Not all magic can be practiced. Some magic – especially seriously powerful stuff – simply costs too much. Call it universal insurance,” she said through a halting laugh. “The universe has to balance its power, right? This isn’t the movies. You can’t have one all-powerful superhero running around doing whatever they want. That’s why magic costs in the first place. You have to be circumspect about using it, so you can keep balance,” she said, and on the word balance, her voice rang with a peculiar deep note that I swore shifted through me. “So, Chi, you absolutely can’t use your magic if it costs you so much. Trust me, we’ll find some other way.”

  I looked up into her gaze and withered under the sheer force of her stare. For a second, I honestly believed what she was saying. Then Sarah walked over to Max and took a sharp breath. One that didn’t just punch through the room but tore through my newfound resolve.

  I jolted out of the chair, pushing past Bridgette as I staggered toward Sarah. “What is it?” I demanded.

  For the first time, Sarah turned and acknowledged me, gaze flicking down my injuries. I was still in the same jeans I’d worn to the foundry, and they were still just as torn and bloodied. I would have looked a right sight.

  “It’s okay, Chi. We’ve got this. Just sit back. That being said,” she suddenly whirled on her foot and faced me, “if you can use your powers—”

  Bridgette jolted forward as if she thought Sarah’s words would reach out and strangle me. “No. She can’t use her powers – they cost her too much. We can do this without them.” Bridgette appeared to look thoughtful for several seconds and quickly clicked her fingers. She returned her attention to me, and I couldn’t deny the urgent sense to her gaze. “Before this mess with the Lonely King began, you said you knew where your fairy contract with Max was. You weren’t lying, right? You know what it is and where to find it?”

  I stared at her blankly and nodded, a peculiar sense starting to build through my stomach. Though ostensibly this entire adventure had begun with that book, I’d never paid it much attention. What was it exactly? Why was it that only I could pick it up and to everyone else it apparently weighed more than a mountain? And why exactly did it exist? Could it be more than a paper reminder of what McCain had done to my family? Why would he even need it? I’d seen how he’d cursed Mary – pressing the flat of his magical palm against her face. So what, exactly, was the purpose of that book?

  Bridgette kept a hand locked on my shoulder, and she brought me back to reality. She took a hissing breath through her teeth. “We need to get it and bring it back here. It could be the key to why we can’t wake Max up. That contract will have a scrap of his soul inside. All we need to do is find it, bring it back here, and cast a few spells on it. It will help us figure out what’s going on.”

  At first, Sarah Anne frowned, but once Bridgette had finished, she started nodding vehemently. “If such a contract exists, that’s the perfect plan.” She turned her attention to me, and I could see just how stressed and pressured she was.

  Again, I couldn’t help but question what her relationship with Max was. Or, should I say, had been. As I darted my gaze toward him once more, I couldn’t deny that his body was as still as a dead man’s.

  I offered a tight nod. “I’ll go and get it. Just wait here.” I turned around sharply, knowing full well I didn’t have the time to discuss any more details.

  Bridgette shifted around and matched my move. “Hey, sure as hell you aren’t going on your own. Not in your state. Plus, are you sure you got the Lonely King?”

  I turned to her and nodded. “That guy’s dead. He’ll give us no more trouble. You don’t have to come.”

  “I want to come,” she said. She afforded me a rare smile. One that wouldn’t last.

  As I turned and pushed toward the door, I locked my mind on the contract. Ostensibly, it sounded like a simple task to go back home, retrieve it from the attic, and bring it back. And yet, it would be the hardest task of my life. For somebody would be waiting for me.

  Chapter 4

  We pulled up outside my house. As I cast my gaze toward the sweet, Queen Anne style building, a knot of fear formed in my stomach.

  My eyes ticked toward the gate. Max made a point of always keeping it closed, but right now it was wide open.

  Bridgett jumped out of the front seat. Before she could close the door, I swung an arm out, caught hers, and held her in place with a stiff white hand.

  “What is it?” She swung her head down to me, her lips stiffening into a hard white line.

  I darted my gaze back to the picket fence. “The gate’s open. The gate’s never open. We always close it.”

  Bridgette turned her head around, narrowing her gaze as she stared at the gate. After several seconds, she simply shrugged. “It probably blew open. The wind has been pretty violent, after all. We have to push on – we’re running out of time.”

  The knot in my stomach told me we’d already run out of time. Rather than point that out, I forced a breath through my teeth, undid my bel
t with a shaking hand, and finally pushed out of my seat.

  I followed Bridgette through the open gate. I ticked my head toward the door. For a flash of a second, it looked open. But the closer I got, I realized it was closed.

  An involuntary shiver ran all the way down my back, plowed through my heart, and made me want to gag.

  “You’ll be okay.” Bridgette had a hand on my shoulder. But even I could tell her move was swift and unfocused.

  As I ticked my head to the side, I saw all her attention was locked on the building, an uncomfortable, hard frown pressing across her lips.

  … It couldn’t be him. It absolutely couldn’t be him… could it? McCain?

  There was no way for him to push through from the past to the future. Yet who else would be in my house? The Lonely King was dead – there was no way he was alive. I’d seen his eyes rolling into the back of his head, felt the life leave him.

  But who else could it be? Could it be one of his lackeys, maybe? One of his last faceless assassins who was taking a passing swipe at me for my part in their boss’ death?

  We didn’t say a word as we reached the door. She turned to me and waited as I pushed a hand into my pocket. Then I cursed. “I’ve lost my key.”

  “But this house is magical.” She turned her head up and stared at the house with a distinct frown pressing across her lips. “I can feel it. If you want to open the door, it will accept your command.”

  Though I’d always kind of had the sense that the house was magical, it had never been described to me in such simple terms. Testing the theory, I reached a hesitant hand out, locked it on the handle, and opened it.

  Bridgette pushed forward, shunting the door all the way open. “It’s your house, so it can’t stay locked for you.”

  Locked? A truly cold sensation washed down my cheeks. I hadn’t heard the lock unclick. No. It had been open.

  My body felt as if I’d swallowed a concrete pylon as I took a shuddering step into the house after Bridgette.