“Let her go,” a woman’s voice says.
The clawing stops. Although my entire back feels stripped of skin and I cry out as a straighten, I turn toward the voice. It’s her, just as the mirror pictured her. Thank God it’s her.
“I need to know your name,” I force out.
She scoffs through perfectly full lips. “I’m not telling a fellow witch my name without knowing hers first.”
“I’m Eloise, and I’m not…” Humans don’t exist on this world, and I’m not going to win her trust by claiming not to be a witch.
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Come inside. I’ll treat those wounds before the death sinks in.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Pain steals my breath as I drag myself after her, Phantom hugging closely to my side. The witch pulls out a chair and guides me into it, then tears open the back of my shirt. I cry out as pain shoots along my spine and ribs like someone is electrocuting my bones.
“Ooh, ooh, ooh, they got you good. You protected your anchor though. Smart witch.” She points her chin at Phantom, who is sitting near the door, foxy features striking a cunning profile as they watch the witch.
She grabs a clay pot from her rustic kitchen counter and starts smoothing a salve over my wounds. The pain abates immediately.
“That feels incredible.”
“Start talking. Don’t make me regret saving you.”
“I’m sorry to barge into your coven like this, but I need your help. Damien is in trouble, and I need your name to free him.”
Her eyes narrow. “Damien knows my name, girl, and I doubt he’d send an inexperienced witch like you here to obtain it for him if he didn’t. Names hold power. But then you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know that. Sorry, but I don’t give mine out freely to anyone who asks.”
“Just tell her the truth,” Phantom says.
The witch drums her natural, unpolished nails on the table. “Listen to your familiar, Eloise. Tell me the truth.”
“You can understand them?” I say, surprised.
“I speak many languages, girl. The one of the dead is a bit of a specialty.”
My stomach drops as I think about the clock ticking down. I need her name, and I need it five minutes ago. I give her a very quick recap of what I’m doing here, ending with, “I challenged the vampire queen for Damien. If I don’t return with your name, I’ll lose the second trial and risk losing him as my mate. I can’t let that happen. Please, please help me.”
She studies me for a few long heartbeats and then grabs my wrist and pulls my palm to her, inspecting the lines there. “You are Damien’s mate.”
“For now, but if I don’t return with your name?—”
“I never thought I’d see the day?—”
“Please, if I could just?—”
“Where is he? He disappeared centuries ago.”
“He was pulled through a rift to my planet, Earth.”
“Earth.” She frowns. “But you can bring him back here. I sense the power in you.”
“I can eventually, but?—”
“You must.” She grows agitated, squeezing my hand harder. “You have no idea the evil things that have transpired in Stygarde since he was lost. The kingdom needs him now more than ever.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Any other time, I’d love to hear everything, but the clock is ticking and Valeska is so fast. “Please. Without your name, Damien will remain a prisoner of the vampire queen on my planet forever, and I will be dead.”
