Page 115 of Blood Magic (Dark Witch Chronicles 1)
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Bronywyn
“That all you got, asshole?” I grind out through gritted teeth. Something warm drips from my nose, my ears, falling in crimson droplets to the concrete floor. Hands chained out to my sides, I’m helpless to do anything but glare.
My magic is still nowhere to be seen, completely failing me in the one moment I need it most.
“Not even close.” He unsheathes a dagger, tilting it so the light shines off the silver blade. “See, if none of this works, I’ll just have my people go retrieve a little extra motivation. That vampire, perhaps. He looked like a bit of fun, didn’t he?”
“Leave Tarnley the fuck out of it.”
He grins. “Oh, a bit touchy, are we?” Lunging forward, he grips my hair and yanks my head back, sliding the blade over my cheek. It burns, the blade biting into my skin, but I swallow the sound. No way in hell I am letting this asshole see any more of my pain. “Tell me, would you like to watch as I destroy him? As I tear him limb from limb?”
“Tarnley will rip your throat out. It’s a specialty of his,” I grind out.
“Is it now?” He straightens and turns toward the two warlocks guarding the door. “Go get me the bloodsucker.”
They nod and leave. I swallow hard, sending up a plea that Tarnley is already out of his apartment and looking for me. Not because I want him to find me, but because if he managed to get to Delaney, give her the spell, she can find a way to break the bond and free him safely. Then, when I die down here, he’ll live.
It’s that fairy tale that brings me peace in this nightmare.
“Use your magic, and this all goes away.”
“I told you. I can’t.”
“And why is that, I wonder?”
“Probably because you already stole it.”
He shakes his head, tucking the blade beneath his arm and leaning against the concrete basement wall. I hope it fucking slices him open.
“I didn’t steal anything from you. I can still feel your magic; it’s there. Tempting, tantalizing me in ways that should have been impossible.” He walks over to me and kneels. “Let me have a taste, Bronywyn, and I’ll make the pain stop.” He trails his blade down my throat and onto my sternum.
I spit on him.
He moves so fast I don’t see his hand until my cheek stings and he holds it up as another threat.
You should have let me out to play when you had the chance.
Where the hell are you now?I demand.If you truly want to help me, why the hell are you being shy now?
You don’t deserve my help. I will find a new host.
Those last words are far more terrifying than nearly any threat—Tarnley aside—this bastard has attempted to use. Mainly because the dark magic has already made it clear who and what type of host it wants.
Which means—even if I had my magic, if I used it, I would be giving the power an out. Visually, I picture a brick wall separating me from the power, and I add another brick to the top. If keeping that type of power from him means I’ll die, I will gladly succumb.
Unfortunately, it’s what I have to do. Even if Delaney can’t get back and break the bond with Tarnley.
“Use your damn power!” He slams his fist into my gut, and I groan as the air is knocked completely from my lungs.
“Fuck. You.”
“You dumb little witch. It calls to me. It’s mine! Give it up!”
I glance up at him and grin as laughter bubbles in my chest. “It’s talking to you, then?” I ask as I straighten. “Promising you immeasurable power? Ultimate control? Then ask yourself this: If I had that power, if I was in control, do you really think you would have managed to get your hands on me?”
He straightens at that, and I can see him questioning, but that doubt only passes over his face for a fraction of a second. Because that fucking voice is in his head, too.