Page 54 of The Girl in the Forest

Except that something flashed, cloaked by the shadows—was a third witch in the cavern? The true Gemini Witch? While the two before me were the decoys?

I’d had worse ideas. Witches were treacherous. A witch died at the Gathering, the young girl I’d been staring at across the table. The illusion could be the coven’s revenge, and the manipulation came from this third presence.

Feigning weakness, I collapsed to the sand, dropping the cup as I reached for my discarded bow. Dragged it closer. Did the same with the quiver.

“Where are you, child? We do not see you.”

Should I answer? I was crouched down, half-hidden by shadows.

On impulse, I threw the cup.

It clattered against the rocks. The witches turned to the sound, the veils snapping—

I picked up the bow, nocked an arrow, and shot toward the oculus. The light shuddered, winked—

Get out, get out, get out…

I struggled to my feet, but dark arches were opening in the white walls and men were stepping through, sleek, dominant, erotic—

Their crooning made my skin clammy—

Catalyst… catalyst… ours…

Vampires!

Too many—were they here to take the catalyst away?

That’s what Mosbach said I was. I destroyed things, the spark that ignited the fire—had the witches called them here?

Perhaps they thought I deserved it after a witch died at the Gathering.

I stared at my trembling fingers. I’d dropped the bow again without realizing. Flames in the torchiers surged upward, crackling, angry. White walls turned blood red in the light. The mica beneath my feet glowed like rubies. The oculus still shimmered.

Let the pieces fall.

My mind raced and I couldn’t slow it down. I couldn’t move, not with men circling. Gorgeous, gorgeous men. Stroking themselves in a heady seduction.

Ripples of heat swamped me.

“A gift for you,” the witches said.

No. I’d asked for no gift. Fallon had warned me about the vampires, seducing, devouring. Even Julien hadn’t held back. I remembered… remembered not to stare for too long…

What had Fallon said? Staring was an invitation.

But looking away became impossible. Too many beautiful faces lured me with laughing, carnal eyes. Full, enticing lips. The fall of thick hair, all shades, all lengths. I wanted to stroke, bury my hands in the tangled textures. Touch bodies that not only promised sex but sex like no other.

I reveled in the intoxication: sandalwood, black oak, bergamot, spice.

These are sex-on-a-stick vampires, Noa. They will feed off you.

And I would die in ecstasy—was I actually arguing with myself?

Why was I not fighting?

“You want this,” one witch said.

“Crave it,” the other added.

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