A Lying Witch Book One Read online

  Chapter 6

  Everything became a blur. A blur of pain. A blur of pure fear. My mind felt cold. So cold it felt like my thoughts had turned into snowflakes whirling through my mind like a blizzard. I had no idea how much time had passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? I didn't know where the creature was dragging me to, either. Maybe it wasn’t dragging me anywhere. Maybe this was the monster version of drawing and quartering. Perhaps it would just drag me along until my arm was wrenched right out of my socket or my flesh was dragged from my bone.

  I was crying, of course I was crying. But it was erratic. Just hot messy tears streaming down my cheeks as I battled for breath.

  I had no hope. No hope at all. There was nothing that could save me now.

  Yet, even as I thought that defeated thought, something happened. A flash. Right at the edge of consciousness – right at the very edge of my mind. A bare flash of light. It was like looking up on a starless night to see a shooting star blaze across the sky.

  Just when I thought that flash of light was nothing but my imagination, I saw it again. Right there, right at the edge of my awareness. It brought with it that same sensation of splitting up. Suddenly, overlaying the scene, I saw another image. Just as had happened when Max had attacked me in the kitchen, I saw a flash of what was going to happen next. A crack opened up just a few feet in front of me. One that appeared to lead straight down to hell. That, or a place equally as foreboding and fiery.

  I watched as the creature dragged me towards that hole with nothing more than a light tug of the chain.

  Reality sped up again. It was so quick, so impossibly fast that my head tugged back as if I’d just been in a car crash.

  Just as I had seen in my previous vision, something opened up before me. An earsplitting crack echoed through the air, louder and more piercing than anything I had ever heard. It felt like it ruptured my eardrums. And the smell? Oh, the smell was deadly. 10 times worse than the overpowering sulfur still wafting through the street. But none of that, none of that was as bad as the heat. It buffeted against me, slammed against my cheeks, ate into any exposed flesh. I tried to shift back from it, but there was absolutely nothing I could do. Nothing I could do….

  Just before I could give up all hope, I saw an opportunity. I saw it play through my mind. And I followed, for I had no option.

  There was a latch on one of my chains. Nothing more than a link that had become slightly loose. If I were 10 times as strong, maybe I’d be able to wrap my fingers around it and pull the link apart completely. But I wasn't 10 times stronger. And I didn't need to pull the link apart completely. All I needed to do was snag it on something.

  Just as this fell creature dragged me towards that gaping hot hole in the pavement, I saw something. Just along the lip of the hole. A pipe that had been chopped in half. It was strong, it was jutting upwards, and if I was just quick enough….

  With another one of those awful creaking hisses, the creature pulled me through the hole. I had a split second. No, who was I kidding? I had the tiniest micro fraction of a second.

  I wasn’t usually a lucky girl. I believed wholeheartedly that you made your own luck. Luck wasn't about hanging around and waiting for good things to happen to you. Luck was about getting out there and forcing the world to give you what you wanted. Right now, I had to change my opinion. Because somehow, just at the last moment, I managed to reach up, to shift around, and to push the weak link in the chain over that lip of metal.

  Time slowed down. To a crawl. I felt as if I could see every single atom draw to a standstill before my frightened mind.

  I saw that loose chain link snag against the hole. I felt the monster tug at me one last time. And as it did, he broke the chain.

  The monster let out a rattling shriek as it fell.

  Just before I could lose hold and be tugged down with the broken chain, I reached up and wrapped a hand over the metal pipe the chain had snagged against. I got a good enough grip that I managed to keep myself from being tugged down to hell. However, the pipe, like the hole around me, was superheated. As soon as I wrapped my hand around it, blistering pain powered through my palm and ate through my fingers. I shrieked, god knows I shrieked. But I did not for the life of me let go. I reached up with all my strength and wrapped a hand around the edge of the pavement. Then, finding strength I absolutely did not have, I pulled myself up onto the road.

  I didn't lie on the pavement, catching my breath. I twisted forward, pushed to my feet, cradled my hand against my chest, and I ran. It was still dark. And I didn't get far. Nope. I smacked into something hard and unyielding. Something that hesitated a moment before it wrapped strong arms around me.

  I screamed, trying to push back. That's when I heard an unmistakable brogue rumbling by my ear. “You're safe. It's just me.”

  … You're safe… it's just me.

  Those words were like a light illuminating the darkness. Max. God, it was Max.

  Despite the fact I’d just met this guy. Despite the fact I truly hated him and this entire incident had been about running away from him, I crumpled forward. Unashamedly, I nuzzled the big Scottish fairy’s chest. And, surprisingly, he didn't push me back. Showing the blessed strength of his form, he pulled me up and carried me away.

  …

  To be honest, it was all a bit of a blur until we got back home. Though I really didn't want to admit this, the second we returned to my grandmother's house, was the second I truly began to relax. There was something about this place that made me feel safe. Even if this place had been the start of all my troubles.

  Max didn't say a word to me in the car. Not a word. He didn’t ask me what had happened, how I'd escaped. Instead, he paid only a scrap of attention to the road as he used the rest to watch me.

  I cradled my blistered hand and tried to let my terror wash over me.

  Though I was in no state to appreciate this, this changed everything. Even a scientific skeptic wouldn't be able to deny what I’d just faced. Some kind of fiendish monster had tried to drag me down to Hell. And my nascent ability to see the future had been the only force to save me.

  Though I was kind of okay to walk, Max wouldn’t let me. As soon as we pulled up in front of the house, he reached around, plucked me out of the passenger seat, and carried me in.

  And, no, I was certainly not the kind of girl who preferred to be carried when she could walk. Or at least, on any day but today.

  I settled into the reassuring feel of his arms around me, the subtle beat of his breath across my cheek, the rumple of his t-shirt against my arms.

  Slowly, I started to appreciate the fight was over.

  Or was it just beginning?

  Max took me into the lounge room and, hesitating a single second, rested me down on the couch.

  He took a step back and crossed his arms. He'd been all sweetness and light up until now, all caring and chivalrous. But now? Oh, that changed in a snap. “I warned you,” he said, brogue dipping down low like far-off thunder.

  Instantly, my hackles rose. “I was just—” I couldn't find my words, couldn't find my voice. It felt like it was lodged down in my trembling heart.

  “Attacked. By a pixie,” he explained.

  Though a second ago I'd been determined to scream at him, that little gem derailed me entirely.

  I blinked my eyes and shook my head. “What? Pixie? No way. It couldn’t have been a pixie. It sounded like a hawk, had this chain, was dragging me down to Hell—”

  Max snorted. Snorted! I'd almost been killed, and this prick thought it was funny?

  You’d think being pissed off would be the last thing my body could manage right now. It was still overcome from the fight for survival, my hand still burnt to a crisp. That, however, didn't stop the bile from rising through my throat.

  Max simply raised an eyebrow at this. “It was a pixie. And it wasn't taking you down to Hell.” His accent became thicker on the word Hell.

  I opened my mouth. He didn't give me the chance to object
.

  “It was taking you back to face punishment for your family's crimes.” As soon as he mentioned my family's crimes, it happened again. I swore his shadow elongated, became more intense, more real somehow.

  I found myself swallowing.

  “What exactly is it going to take for you to take this situation seriously?” he asked, somehow managing to squeeze his arms even tighter across his chest. I swore if he managed to clutch them any harder, he’d squeeze his head right off, and his indignant frown would roll all over the carpet.

  Though that was a mildly amusing thought, I stifled it. Any smart girl would. Just as a smart girl would turn, shove off the couch, and run a mile.

  I didn’t exactly have that option. I shrunk back, the cushions squeaking behind me as I continued to cradle my hand.

  God did it hurt. I usually had a pretty good pain threshold, but, hello, I’d burnt my palm and fingers on the superheated tunnel of a pixie.

  In my mind, pixies were tiny little mischievous creatures, kind of like garden gnomes. But the thing that had attacked me? I hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but I’d heard it. It had been massive, heavy, and had carried around a huge metal chain.

  Though my mind kept flitting from thought to thought, Max never shifted. Nor did he let up on his grip as he clamped his arms even tighter around his middle. “So, Chi, you taking this seriously yet?”

  I jerked my gaze up to his. “You’re an asshole, you know that, don’t you? Do you have any idea how much pain I’m in? Do you have any idea what I just went through?” Though my voice cracked on the word idea, I still managed to push my words out. And it was a good thing, because this – the anger welling through my gut – it was the only thing that could counteract the fear.

  “Sure, I know exactly what you went through. I saw most of it,” he revealed.

  I… stopped. Kind of froze. It wasn’t the same immobilizing sensation I’d experienced when I’d heard the pixie dragging its chain towards me through the dark. Nope, this was completely different. This was pausing as reality shot you in the head. “You watched? You stood there and watched? You stood there as—” I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached behind me, and even though all I could grab was a cushion, it didn’t matter. I chucked it right at Max’s head.

  Though I knew full well Max had the reflexes to get out of the way, he didn’t bother. The cushion thumped against his face, tumbled down his crossed arms, and fell against his camel-colored leather shoes.

  “You total freaking asshole,” I screamed as I reached for another cushion and chucked it at him.

  Again, he didn’t move. He watched me with the kind of disappointed look that told me I was a complete waste of space.

  I didn’t stop throwing things at him. When I ran out of cushions, I reached towards the coffee table. I clutched at the remote and threw it right at that sanctimonious frown.

  This time, he reached up, and with lightning skills, caught it.

  That didn’t mean I stopped.

  “You total bastard,” I shrieked, finally jumping to my feet. “Now get the hell out of my house.” I pointed towards the door.

  He didn’t move. He just watched me. Somehow, when he wanted to, he could make his eyes glitter. Now I swore they glinted like light running along a freshly forged blade.

  I kept my arm held out, one long, stiff, bloodless finger pointed at the door. “I said get out,” I shrieked.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Chi. Neither are you,” he said as he took a step to the side, positioning himself roughly in the middle of the lounge room, giving himself all the time he would need to obstruct either door.

  I stiffened again. A burst of adrenaline rushed through me. Except, it was completely different to the fear that had seen me save myself from that pixie. Nope, this adrenaline just led to more blistering anger.

  I stood there, facing him, shoulders as stiff as an A-frame as I curled my hands into fists. It didn’t matter that one of my palms was so damaged it felt like it would have permanent scarring. “Where the hell do you get off? It this amusing to you? You left me there to die. Why, to make some stupid point? That I need you to protect me? Well, don’t know if you noticed, jerk, but I got out of that situation on my own.”

  … I got out of that situation on my own.

  What I was saying struck me.

  I’d seen the future again, and it had saved me.

  Though that thought was powerful, I kept my expression even. And, by even, I mean totally pissed. I wasn’t going to let this jerk know what I was thinking.

  “You think you don’t need me?” he said after a considerable pause. The kind of pause that brought attention to just how stiffly he was standing, to just how angrily he was gazing my way. “And you think I would have let you die? I was there. Waiting. If you hadn’t used your ability to save yourself, I would have stepped in. You have my word on that.”

  There was something about the way he said word, something about the way his voice shook. And, more than anything, something about the way he suddenly made direct eye contact. The kind of direct eye contact ordinary people don’t make. Because ordinary people are too full of themselves, too distracted, or too damn polite to stare you right in the eye like they were going to walk through the doors of your soul.

  I was ashamed to say that look derailed me. For like half a second.

  I spluttered, indignation still shaking through me like a violent storm. “Oh, that sure is reassuring. You would have stepped in if I’d needed it. When, exactly? When I’d been dragged down to Hell to burn to a crisp?”

  “I would have stepped in if you’d needed me,” he repeated once more, using one of those infuriating calm tones that told me I was overreacting. Problem was, I wasn’t overreacting.

  This jerk had left me to die.

  Though I was usually pretty good with confrontation, all I wanted to do was either force Max out of the house, or run away myself.

  Yet, as I turned hard on my foot and jerked towards the kitchen door, he was there. Right in front of me. Don’t ask me how he did it. It was magic, of course.

  He was close enough that all I had to do was reach a hand out, ball it into a fist, and strike it on his chest.

  I usually didn’t strike out. With my words, maybe. With my intelligence, definitely. With my fists? Hello, I was better than that.

  Ordinarily.

  As a pang of anger and the leftover dregs of fear spiraled through me, I snapped. I pushed forward and struck him right on that wall of a chest.

  He did nothing.

  His arms were crossed again, and he didn’t even bother to unhook them to catch my wrist.

  He just stared at me, gaze deadly even.

  Which just made me all the more pissed off.

  “You bastard,” I spat again as I struck him once more.

  It did nothing.

  So I struck again. I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks, dribbling down my neck, touching my collar. My shirt was all rumpled, torn in places, covered in grit and dirt. I’d been dragged down the street, after all.

  And this guy? He didn’t care.

  So, as the tears streamed even harder, I balled up my other hand – the one that was badly burnt – and I thumped it against his chest. Except, this time, he reacted. Showing that god-given speed once more, he reached forward and grabbed my wrist. He closed his fingers around it, locking it in place with that large, rough thumb. It was not, however, a violent move. It was almost like he was trying to contain my wrist, not break it.

  “Stop,” he said, that brogue shaking through the room. “You’re injured, remember?”

  For the first time, that dead-even expression cracked. Just a glimmer of actual concern parted his lips, softened his jaw, and flickered in his gaze.

  Which made me all the more pissed off.

  How dare he act concerned for me now. He stood there and watched as a terrifying monster dragged me down a darkened street. I didn’t care if it was some pixie, I didn’t care if Max
thought he’d been in control – no one should have to go through a terrifying experience like that.

  The tears completely soaked my cheeks now. I was surprised I still had that many to cry – I thought I’d gone dry after all the bawling I’d done when the pixie had attacked me.

  I tried to yank my hand back, but Max wouldn’t let me. As I took several steps back to gain the purchase I’d need to pull my wrist out of his delicate grip, he just walked with me until he was standing there – right in front of me, leg pressed up against mine, chest a bare half centimeter from my own, and face right there – close enough to kiss.

  Close enough to kiss. With any other guy, in any other moment, that would have been an appropriate thought. Now? It should be the last thing on my mind.

  “Chi, you’re injured. And let me repeat once more – I would have stepped in if you’d needed it. You didn’t. Because you saw the future, right? And you acted on it, right?”

  I wanted to jerk back and hit him again. Instead, I was kind of stuck there, staring up at his face. No, I wasn’t stuck because of his perfect jaw, because of his high cheekbones, because of those glittering eyes. I was stuck because of something far deeper. That same connection I’d felt when he’d first arrived on my doorstep.

  “Just calm down,” he added in a low, quiet tone. “And realize what you just did. You used the same ability you did to stop me. You saved yourself from that pixie, Chi. And let me tell you, that’s quite a feat.”

  “I… I don’t care,” I said, trying to hold onto my anger. My anger? It was slipping away like water through parted fingers.

  “Yes, you do. Though you’re a liar, I think you’ve always wanted to tell the future, right? There was a time you actually believed it was possible, wasn’t there?”

  I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not—”

  He snorted. “You’re like an open book, Chi McLane. You may think you’ve got a good poker face, but not against a fairy.”

  I clenched my teeth, deliberately letting my gaze darken. “I do not care what you think about me. Now let me go.”

  “Why? So you can storm out of the house and get into more trouble? Haven’t you even asked yourself why that pixie was after you?”

  I opened my mouth. I stopped.

  Like it or not, that was a seriously good point.

  Though I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness around him, I couldn’t stop myself from swallowing.

  Though momentarily his gaze looked victorious, that expression shifted to one of controlled concern. “It was the curse, Chi. I told you this would happen.”

  I shook my head, but it was a weak move. “You’re lying. That pixie…” I trailed off.

  What? Just saw me walking along the street and thought I looked like a pretty good target?

  I didn’t know how pixies operated, because I didn’t have any idea what a pixie was.

  I started to feel overwhelmed. At first, it was slow. Just a cold sensation spreading through my chest. Just a few prickles at the base of my spine, just my heartbeat quickening. Then? It hit me. I had no idea what was going on.

  I started to shake, I felt sweat slick across my brow, and all at once, I felt just how damaged my hand was.

  My mother would be disappointed in me if she could see me now. To her, you never showed weakness. You saved face no matter the situation, because face was the most important thing in the world.

  Right now, I lost it, as I literally broke down.

  Though a second before my knees had been standing just fine, now they buckled as if I’d aged a hundred years.

  I did not, however, fall flat on my face. Instead, showing that same other-wordly speed, Max the fairy pushed in, wrapped a hand around my back, and pinned me there. Sure, it meant I didn’t fall over. It also meant he was practically embracing me.

  Usually, I didn’t go for men like Max. I didn’t go for those big, burly types. I went for personality. Who cared if a guy could pump iron – could he actually hold a conversation?

  But like I’d already said – from the day dot, I’d always had this type in my mind. This perfect guy. And, like it or not, Max fitted him to a T. And right now? I was pressed flat against that perfect man. His chest pushed up against mine, torn flaps of fabric and scraps of buttons snagging against the smooth fabric of his gray T-shirt. But hey, what did I care about the fabric of my top, or his, for that matter? What struck me were the bodies beneath. The curve of his chest, the hard angle of his pelvis. All of it. It all slammed into my mind, pulsed through my veins until I felt my cheeks redden and my fingertips and lips tingle.

  The moment – if this was a moment – didn’t last. Though I swore Max took the time to stare right into my eyes, he then pressed forward, looped an arm underneath my knees, and picked me up for the second time in half an hour.

  He walked over to the couch and unceremoniously dumped me on it.

  Any lingering tingles dancing across my lips extinguished like sparks thrown into the ocean.

  “Hey,” I protested.

  “You’re safer on the couch,” he responded as he took a step back and crossed his arms. Why did he cross his arms so much? Was he trying to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest? Was he worried I’d see right through him if he didn’t take up that default defensive position?

  Though a second before I’d been completely distracted by Max’s perfect, sculpted body, now I scowled. “You don’t get to control the conversation by picking me up and throwing me on the couch.”

  “Oh, we’re having a conversation now, are we? How refreshing. Ready to start asking questions rather than running?”

  I stiffened. “Yeah, I ran. Because any sane person would run. I have no idea what’s going on. Murderers and monsters and fricking clairvoyants? None of this makes sense—”

  “I told you this would happen,” his voice dropped again, and that unmistakable disappointed look flitted through his dark gaze.

  Again, it forced me to take a swallow. A hard one. One that distracted me from my anger long enough for me to realize just how disappointed he looked. And no, though my mind wanted to tell me his disappointment was coming from hatred, it seemed to be coming from something far softer.

  “You have any idea what would have happened if that pixie had kidnapped you? Do you have any idea where it would have taken you?” he asked.

  I parted my lips to scream at him once more that he could have saved me rather than standing around watching, but I didn’t.

  Because I started to feel overcome again. I felt sweat slick across my brow, felt the beat of my heart rev up.

  “I should have seen this coming. One look at you and it’s obvious you aren’t willing to accept responsibility.”

  “Responsibility?” I stuttered. “Why exactly is this my responsibility? Why should I be responsible for the sins of my forefathers? I don’t care if one of my great great great grandmother’s did something wrong and got cursed. Why exactly should it affect me?”

  “You’re such a child,” he commented. “You’re not going to argue your way out of the situation. Saying it isn’t fair isn’t going to change anything. Only accepting responsibility for the curse will.”

  “Piss off,” I answered, showing just how much of a child I was.

  He scowled. “You can fight me all you want, but you cannot disappoint Detective Coulson. He requires your assistance with this murder, and you will give it to him. For, if you don’t, not only will you aggravate the curse and more monsters will come after you – but you will let a murderer ago. And he will murder again. How much blood do you want on your hands until you take this seriously?”

  My lips were open, but I couldn’t move them. I couldn’t speak. Heck, I couldn’t breathe. Because what he’d just said had burrowed through my heart.

  Blood on my hands. A murderer who would kill again….

  I was seriously good at dodging responsibility. I’d been doing it my entire life.

  But there were small responsibi
lities like not taking out the trash or handing out little white lies to desperate people for cash. Then there were big responsibilities – like ensuring someone didn’t get murdered.

  My head started to spin. “I… I don’t even know how to find this murderer. I’m not a clairvoyant—”

  “You saw the future when that pixie attacked you. It’s the only reason you’re alive.”

  “I thought you said you’d step in…” I said as I took a rattling breath, as the situation began to mount and mount and crush me.

  “I would have,” he said, voice achieving that same shaking note of certainty that could convince even the most dedicated of doubters. “But the point remains. You saw the future and saved yourself. And you will do the same again. You will use your abilities to find that murderer.”

  I crammed a hand on my chest, tried to push my fingers right through my torso so I could clutch my heart and still it. “Or?”

  He didn’t answer at once. And goddamn, it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

  “Or?” I pushed again, voice still rattling like the chain of that pixie.

  “There is only so much I can do for you. If you turn away from your responsibility and go against the curse, you will….” He didn’t finish.

  “What?” My voice was far-off, strangely calm. It wasn’t because I was calm – it was because I was starting to disassociate. My brain had finally had enough. Too much stress, too much pain, too much crazy.

  “If the curse activates in full, your ability will not be able to save you. You will die. It will be painful. It will be excruciating. And you won’t deserve it,” he added.

  And I won’t deserve it…. Those little words were like a hook. A hook that snagged under my chin, pulled it up, and made me stare right into Max’s gaze.

  Though my first knee-jerk reaction was to label the guy a brute or a monster, I couldn’t do that now. Not when I was staring into his eyes. For a fraction of a second, I swore we aligned. I swore I reached right in and touched—

  He suddenly unhooked his arms from around his middle and took a rather dramatic step back. “You’re injured,” he commented, breath kind of short as he turned hard on his foot and headed towards the kitchen. “I will retrieve medicine. You will remain on the couch. It is not suggested that you use this opportunity to run. Because there’s nowhere left to go, Chi McLane.” With that, he walked out of the room.

  And me? Though maybe I should have ignored his ominous warning and run, I just lay there. In fact, I repositioned myself, plucked one of the cushions off the floor, and closed my eyes.

  It didn’t help with the spinning. My thoughts continued to twist around as if they’d been plunged into a vortex.

  I was a witch. I could tell the future. And if I didn’t solve this murder? Apparently, I’d be next.