Page 78 of Witch Unexpected
“Understatement. How about we start with, what the fuck was that thing?”
“A warlock,” she said. “A dead warlock.”
“Okay, I was not expecting that.”
She smiled tightly. “Let me break it down for you. The Order of Croatoan draws power from chaos. They have no connection to miasma whatsoever. Chaos is everything to them, and when they die, they have the same choice as witches—to remain tethered here or to move on to Tarrafell.”
I’d heard that name. Heck, I’d been there, at least to what constituted the foyer of the damn place, but it felt like such a long time ago. A fuzzy memory of something that had happened mere months ago.
“That’s the afterlife for outliers, right?”
“That’s right.” She sipped her drink. “If the warlock souls stay on this plane, after some time, they morph into what you saw today. The one we killed tonight was relatively young. There are older ones and… There are ancient ones.”
“I don’t understand. Why do they change, and witches don’t?”
“Because chaos is addictive. It’s dangerous, and the more they used it in life, the more it twists them in death until they turn into soul-sucking monsters desperate for their next fix. As they’re unable to tap into chaos directly, they find humans with chaotic souls and feed from them, but in the absence of a chaotic soul, they’ll just feed off any human soul, and if they’re hungry enough, they’ll go after outliers. It’s rare, though. The revenant would have to be starving to do that. Even in that state, though, they’re strong, stronger because of the hunger.”
“And you killed one? How is that possible?”
“It’s called negation—essentially unmaking an entity—and it’s not something just any witch can do. It’s not something we’re permitted to do on anything but revenants; otherwise, we risk upsetting the delicate balance of nature. There are only a handful of witches with the ability to carry the spell. It’s a requirement for joining The Elites. It’s not a spell you can learn to do. You can either do it, or you can’t.”
“And the revenants… Why do they stay here? Why stay in Leyton?”
She sucked in her bottom lip. “Anna believes it’s a combination of the draw of the ley lines and the fact that they died on this land. We have lulls followed by spates of mass feedings, where they come out the woodwork like lice. There’s a prophecy.” She snorted. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but prophecies are a thing. Basically, when our coven locked Croatoan away, it momentarily weakened the original warlocks. The ones who spawned the whole Order. Anyway, Grimswood witches slaughtered them, you know, to cut the head off the snake, so to speak. They trapped the original warlocks at a location known only by our elder council. But…” She raised an index finger. “There’s a prophecy, foretold by Dorothy Fillian, member of the first elder council, that states, when Croatoan rises, so will the original warlocks, and on that day, humanity will fall. So…” She eyed me over the rim of her glass. “That’s what you’re helping us stop. Revenants, but ten times worse than the thing we put down in the restroom.” She raised her glass. “Welcome to Grimswood Coven.”
“I’m going to need another drink.”
* * *
It was gonemidnight by the time we got back to the mansion. Sloane dropped us off, and Bramble walked me partway to the house before getting an urgent call from Charlotte. I made it to the east wing with minimal assistance, and damn I was knackered.
Wren was sprawled in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. I changed into my sleep shorts and T before scooping him up and tucking him under the covers with me.
It was like having a living teddy bear to snuggle.
I lay in the dark for long minutes. “Jasper?” The air was unmoving, not a whisper. My chest hollowed. “Jasper, where the fuck are you?”
I hated to admit it, but I was worried about him, and… I missed him. Urgh. I was obviously a glutton for punishment. Wren’s even breaths and the hum of his snoring relaxed me.
My eyes drifted closed.
“Cora? Wake up, Cora.”
“Huh?” I peeled my eyelids open to find Wren in my face, his hazel eyes dark and round with fear. “Wren?”
“Wren see monster in the wall…”
My body was instantly alert, alarm bells going off. My breath fogged the air in front of my face. Temperature drop. Bad sign.
“Cora… look…” Wren pressed against me and pointed at the wall opposite our bed.
The wall bulged and rippled, and dark pores opened across it.
No fucking way.
I scrambled out of bed with Wren attached to me and ran for the door. My hand closed around the handle, then I was blown back across the room. My butt hit the floor by my bed.
Wren? Where was Wren?
