Page 4 of To Hell and Back
“Oh, and I did you a huge favor by getting rid of your aunt and uncle for you. Really, you should be thanking me.”
Seneca wished she had the energy to curse the crazy witch out for that.
Thank her? Maybe if she wasn’t being bled dry in a freaking dungeon.
Whitley pouted and leaned forward slightly to whisper conspiratorially. “They weren’t very nice. But at least they are contributing to the ecosystem now. They are making excellent compost for the flowers in my garden. I even planted some new lilacs in honor of their contribution.”
Well, that answered that question.
As much as Seneca hated her aunt and uncle for what they had done to her, the way they had ended up still seemed harsh. No one wanted to end up being buried in someone’s freaking backyard.
Whitley wasn’t just a power-hungry dark witch.
She was a fucking murderous psycho.
“Now, I should get going. Oops, I almost forgot this.” She giggled as she stood up and lifted the bag of blood to take with her. “I have a lunch date with some friends, then I plan to spend some time in my lab. Don’t worry, I will be back down to check on you again in a little while. Rest well, my little lucky charm.”
As she sauntered out of the room, Seneca let out a relieved sigh. By the time Whitley checked on her later, she would already be gone.That thought should have scared the shit out of her, but she was too damn tired to worry about much at the moment.
Normally, she might have survived, but she had given Clara and Mark some of her blood the day before and hadn’t been able to recover yet. What her aunt and uncle had done to her was horrible, but at least they had taken the secret of her golden blood with them to the grave. If the blood wasn’t given freely, it wouldn’t work. That didn’t make up for everything they had done, but it ensured the crazy witch’s plan would never succeed.
If Seneca couldn’t escape, at least she got to have a finalfuck you.
Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the weightless sensation that swept through her. It wouldn’t be long now, and she had finally accepted that escape was impossible. To pass the time, she tried replaying her favorite memories of being with her parents and best friend in her head. Soon she would be reunited with them, and that gave her great comfort.
If she had time, she would replay every minute she had spent with them in her mind. But now, even her most cherished memories were drifting away like trails of smoke, carried away by the wind until nothing remained.
She had finally reached her end.
Or so she believed.
Chapter Two
Death was anatural equalizer, but that didn’t mean it was always fair.
Seneca had been a pretty decent person while she’d been alive. She tried to live a relatively good life. She was a loving daughter and a loyal friend and had never intentionally hurt anyone or been a bully.
While shewasn’t a saint, she was far from a sinner. Because of that, she believed she would end up somewhere benign, like strolling through a field of flowers or floating on a cloud while she waited to be accepted through the golden gates that lead to whatever waited in the afterlife.
Clearly, she had been way off in her estimation of what happened after death.
She’d never believed things just ended after someone died. There had to be a reason there were so many stories about the afterlife and reincarnation for all of it to be false.
She just hadn’t expected to wake up in hell.
The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a light so bright her eyes felt singed. The fire was so hot she was surprised she hadn’t been incinerated already. She tried to back away from the heat but couldn’t seem to move her body. That made panic surge through her, but it didn’t last long. She relaxed again when the raging flamesdimmed,makingit more tolerable to be around.
Shelet out a relieved sigh once she realized she wasn’t about to be cremated. Still, it took several more seconds tofigure outthat she was staring into an enormous stone fireplace where there was a roaring fire made of strange silver, gold, and black flames.
Since her eyes seemed to be the only thing she was able to move, she tried to glanceat as much of her surroundings as she could to figure out where she was. The only thing she could tell was that shewasin a massive room that was completely unfamiliar to her. Although itlooked like she was in the great hall of somemedievalcastle found somewhere in Europe, the strange flames made it clear she was somewhere magical.
Since waking up in strange places was apparently starting to be her thing, she was just grateful it wasn’t another dungeon. She was also reassured when she didn’t see any medical equipment within the vicinity. Relief flooded through her when she was finally able to move her head alittle, but that didn’t last long.
When she glanced down,she blinked in shock when she didn’t see her own legs. Her legs had vanished, and in their place was a tiny pair of black and white paws.
What the fuck was going on?
Had that crazy witch saved her before she died and cast some sort of strange spell on her to make it easier to keep her locked up? Or hadSeneca somehow been turned into a shifter?
