Page 140 of Her Blood Revenge

Can she swim? I don’t even know if she can handle the weight of what’s about to slam down on her. She’s strong. But is she that strong?

In the wall of water, glowing eyes look out. Dark silhouettes move. Huge ones, some the size of sharks.

Unseelie. They’re in the water, circling in anticipation. These creatures belong in history books.

The misfit coven, who fights with Pixie, tries to stop the wave. Their hands rise as they push against it, but they all slide back as it descends.

The attacking water coven does not need to focus on their enormous wave any longer. It’s done. Their part in the destruction of the earth coven is done.

They fall into the wave as the ground around them crumbles, and they’re swallowed whole by their own destruction.

Her name explodes from me in one hell of a roar as I watch helplessly.

Archie wraps himself around her, his hand at the back of her skull as he scrunches his eyes closed. He knows there’s no stopping that water. That even in his wolf form, he’ll never outrun it. The sound is deafening. The whitewash of the churning wave is blinding. The ground shakes all around us, and I’m stuck as if encased in marble.

And they’re gone. Swallowed by the water. The great wave brought with it several ships that were caught in the giant swell. Huge wooden vessels that roll and spin so much they break apart and send enormous chunks of splintered wood in all directions.

I’m running straight at it, desperate to reach Archie and Pix. My eyes are fixed on the point where she last was.

I dive in, feeling the sheer force of the water slam into me.

Any mortal would have died in that second. Their bodies broken, and the water filling their lungs as they screamed out in pain.

I am no mere mortal, and that little witch of mine needs me.

In the swirling darkness and bitter cold, those unworldly silhouettes shoot past me. Talons and teeth lash out as tails flick and fins slice. The water soon tastes of blood as witches die. My body is battered and rolled. No matter how much I claw at the water, I can’t tell up from down or get near the surface. The ungodly screeches and trilling of the unseelie ripple through the water. I hear the screams of the witches they attack. Smell and taste the blood they seep into the water.

Finally, I break the surface.

‘ASHE?!’ I call out, scanning the raging waters. ‘ASHE NECTAN! LET ME HEAR YOU!’

Heads break the surface, screaming and splashing. None of them are my witch, and one by one, they’re pulled back under with a horrified scream. Blood spills up as they die, slaughtered one by one by the unseelie in the water.

I dive back down. Finding her is all that matters. It’s my singular thought. I swim down to seek her out, almost choking on the terror of failing to find her in time.

There’s another rumble, and the sensation of pulling takes hold of me. Down I go, dragged to the ground by an unseen force. I hit the ground. Crevasses have appeared in the dirt, and the water is being pulled down. In the murkiness, I see many others kicking their way to the surface, fighting with all they have against the pull.

And there in the distance, kneeling with her hands pressed flat into the dirt… Pixie.

Those deep cracks in the earth’s surface come from her, and deep purple vines are knotting around her arms.

And her eyes. They shine in a glowing purple, the same shade as those vines. The water continues to drain away until I finally feel the chill of the air and take a deep breath.

I stand, utterly silenced.

Pixie is still kneeling with her hands in the dirt, those vines twisting around her tighter and tighter. I swallow. Her skin is sickly green. Dark veins pulse beneath her flesh. She lifts her head, and those purple eyes meet mine.

Her scent has changed to something else.

I stand, watching her closely as her lip curls. There’s disgust on her face, but not her disgust. I know what she looks like when she’s repulsed. This isn’t it.

From behind me, Archie comes rushing towards her. I hold out my hand and stop him just before a great spike of wood violently juts out from the ground. Another step, it would have gone through his face and splattered me with bits of whatever brains he has in that thick skull of his.

‘Did… did Pix just try to kill me?’ he asks, his eyes crossed as he looks at the lethal point before him.

‘That’s not Pixie,’ I tell him, still unblinking as I watch her. ‘There’s something else in her.’

She stands, the roots and vines still attached. Not attached. No. Embedded in her skin. Blood drips from where they’ve impaled her, and it’s nauseating watching them sink deeper and deeper under her flesh.

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