Pausing to look me up and down, she gave an audible tut, the slightest hint of a smirk colouring her disapproval.
‘I’m glad your grandmother isn’t here to see this.’
I opened my mouth to reply but before I could say anything, a rush of someone else’s magic swept me off my feet and sent me stumbling into the tree. It was back. It was back and here and so strong, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it as Jackson’s terrified face disappeared and the whole world crumbled into darkness around me.
Chapter Nine
It was dark in my dreams again.
The howl of the wolves at my heels, the leaves and branches crunching underfoot as I ran, the smell of burning buildings and bodies poisoning the air. The screaming I’d heard the night before grew louder, more desperate, as I ran. It was a woman’s voice, her agony clawing at my soul like nails down a chalkboard. I had to get to her, I had to save her. It was only when I paused, hesitated for just a second, that I understood where I was. The archway up ahead, the silver dagger in my hand. A figure dressed in white waiting for me at an altar. This was a witch’s Becoming ceremony.
‘Lydia?’ I said as the woman came into focus. ‘Lyds, is that you?’
She couldn’t answer. Lydia Powell was too busy fighting off what looked like a legion of wolves, dozens if not hundreds, emerging from the woods and all of them racing right past me to lunge at my friend, staining her beautiful white gown scarlet.
‘Lydia, no!’ I screamed. ‘Get away from her!’
I fought blindly, attacking anyone who would do her harm,blasts of wind, wild rains, sheer force of will, the knife in my hand. It found unwilling flesh over and over until my arm ached with the effort but it was still too late. By the time I fell to my knees beside her, drenched in Were blood, my best friend’s eyes were vacant and soulless, evidence of the wolves’ claws and teeth everywhere on her mauled body.
‘End it.’
Her lips formed the words but there wasn’t enough air in her lungs to make a sound.
‘Please, Emily, kill me. End it all.’
Two tears cut a stark path through the ripe red gore on my cheeks. With a scream, I raised the dagger above my head and plunged it down with all the strength left in me. As my best friend’s last breath left her body, a huge silver wolf with green-grey eyes the colour of Spanish moss appeared in front of me. It was a wolf I’d seen before. In Bonaventure Cemetery. Wyn’s brother, Cole.
‘Kill him again,’ a guttural female voice commanded as he approached, pressed low to the ground. ‘You’ve done it once before.’
‘I didn’t know,’ I said, my hands trembling. ‘I couldn’t have killed him if I’d known.’
‘Then you’ll die,’ the voice replied. ‘And if you die, so goes the world.’
Dropping the knife, I held my arms out wide, eyes closed, accepting my fate as it lunged at my throat and everything went black.
When I shot upright, eyes wide open and panting hard, it took a long moment for me to realize where I was. Then, it took an even longer moment to understand why Jackson Powell was curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows at the side of my bed. I sat up slowly, doing my best to piece together exactlyhow we had got here. Reality chased the dream away, almost equally as chilling. The party. The wolf. The blood.
‘Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life lying about how I got these.’
Jackson was awake. He lay on the floor, tracing the five new silvery lines that sliced across his bare torso.
‘If you come up with a good one, let me know.’
I raised my shirt to display evidence of my own werewolf encounter on my belly. ‘Snap.’
His nostrils flared with recognition.
‘Matching werewolf scars. So much cooler than matching tattoos.’
Rolling up into a sitting position, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes then pulled his hands away, blinking once, twice, as though he was making sure they still worked properly.
‘How do you feel?’ I asked.
‘Surprisingly good, considering.’
The blanket fell away from his body and I saw he was only wearing boxer briefs, the black elastic waistband tight against his washboard stomach.
‘I wish I could say it’s all a blur, but the whole night is altogether too clear. How about you?’
