Page 128 of Her Blood Revenge

‘Now see here!’ a man crows. ‘You can’t just walk into my home uninvited!’

Apparently, Archie can. He carries me until I hear him kick another door shut. Then, He puts me on the floor and slides me across it.

‘Open your eyes, Pix. Come on.’

I’m beneath a bed, and he’s lying beside me, stroking my face.

Has he seriously just invaded someone’s home so he can shove me under their bed?

Beyond the door, others are muttering their indignation. But I find myself struggling to give a single fuck. It all becomes too much.

The sobs I expel are undignified and uncontrolled. Loud and ugly tears just explode from me, ripping through my body so violently my muscles feel as though they’re tearing.

Archie shuffles closer. His legs entwine with mine as he holds me to his chest.

And I just cry. Cry for the loss of everything, I guess. For the family I wished I had. For the friends I thought I had. For the loss of my coven. I cry for myself and hope that when I run out of tears, this pain will be gone, too.

Archie sleeps beside me as I stare at the underside of this old bed. It’s cramped and dirty, but dark and safe.

I’ve kept my promise. I have stayed awake.

Poppy rests against my cheek, the lower half of her body at the back of my neck. Her presence is truly comforting, as is Archie’s.

My sadness has died down. Perhaps I have cried it all out.

Now… I’m angry. I’m determined. I start the difficult challenge of shuffling out from under this bed and untangling Archie from my limbs.

He must be exhausted because he barely moves and continues to sleep as I pull away from him. The residents of the house are gone, and the house is silent.

Outside, I walk past the fire I slept beside and walked with Shaw. The fire has died, and the area is pretty quiet. I get the sense that it is very early morning. That’s how itfeels. Like the world is slowly waking up and preparing for a day full of life.

Images of my home village stab behind my eyes. Are there any bodies? Will they just be abandoned to rot in the open air? I imagine the sound of the flies and the writhing of the maggots as they just lie there.

The ground beneath my feet cracks in reaction to my growing anger.

Deep breaths. Take deep breaths.

I promised no magic.

Once clear from view, I find a secluded spot and pull out my earth grimoire. Perhaps there is something in here that will help. That will point me in the right direction or tell me what that symbol means.

I draw it in the dirt again.

Poppy bristles around me.

‘I’m just remembering,’ I insist, as if she is scolding me. I rest my hand over it. ‘It’s darkness is palatable. It’s powerful and strong. Seductive. More seductive than any whisper spoken from a lover.’

Her head snaps up.

I quickly rub out the markings. Archie will not want me to do this, and I am not in the mood for an argument.

But when I lift my head, it’s not Archie who steps nervously through the trees. I squint. Surely, I’m dreaming.

I look at her hand. She’s holding a dagger.

The crazed witch screams and charges, the dagger held high.

I barely get to my feet before she’s on top of me, and the dagger gets buried into my shoulder. She looks at the weapon and then at me, utter surprise on her face.

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