Page 81 of Witch Unexpected
I hover in the shadows and listen.
“We can’t let The Sons of Adam have her,” Anna says.
“You know what happens if we don’t,” one of the other witches says. “Do you want to pay the price?”
“A threat, that’s all,” Anna says. She doesn’t look convinced, though. “The Sons of Adam haven’t left their mountain home for centuries. They’re too weak. They won’t come to collect.”
“It’s been twelve hundred years,” a witch with a dark bob says. “They’ve obviously healed from what was done to them.” She sighs. “What our coven did to them.”
“We had no choice. The fate of humanity depended on it,” Anna says. “Now we must be strong. We must fight back and protect what is ours.”
The witches exchange nervous glances, then the one with the dark bob speaks again.
“Anna, the old council got lucky. They cornered The Sons of Adam at a time when they were at their weakest. After all this time, they’ll be almost at full strength again, and you know what they are, what they’re capable of. Mordecai wasn’t known as The Impaler for nothing.”
“So, what do you suggest, hmmm? That we hand over our anchor?”
Wait, are they talking about Cora? I’m intrigued.
“The seal will remain intact whether she is here or there,” one of the witches explains. “If we refuse, then we risk losing everything, and the seal won’t matter because there’ll be no Grimswood witches to protect it.”
“The risk of submitting could set Croatoan free.”
My mind whirs with the disjointed information.
Cora needs to know this. I need to find her, but to do that, I need energy. Luckily for me, this room is now pulsing with fear and alarm. No need to draw it from anyone. Perfect. I absorb it, and my body is mine once again.
One of the witch’s gazes’ flicks to the shadows where I am. “What…? Who’s there?”
“Jasper…”
Cora’s summons pulls me to her.
Chapter Twenty
Cora
“Jasper…” The word fell from my lips involuntarily.
No, I could do this. I pushed off the ground and surged toward the revenant, dodging and slashing at the tentacles to get close. One hit me in the abdomen, throwing me back again. The thing was no longer in feed mode; it was in survival mode, but Lauris’s attack was slowing, and his white T was soaked in blood.
I ducked the swipe of a barbed tentacle—just—and Lauris staggered away, clutching his side. The revenant reared up, ready to lunge at the gargoyle.
I rushed it, slamming into it from the side and dragging it across the balcony and into the railing. Its body was dry and flaky, a contradiction to the wet bloody sheen to it. I buried my dagger in its ribs, over and over. I was peripherally aware of Lauris trying to get past the tentacles to help me, but they were all barbed now, whipping back and forth, taking up the whole balcony and keeping him at bay.
The revenant’s hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back to bare my throat, then his mouth was heading toward mine.
“Cora!”
Jasper?
The revenant’s head jerked up, and its grip on me slackened enough for me to break free.
I dropped to my knees and looked up at Jasper. He was standing in the midst of the tentacles, not quite corporeal, his blazing gaze fixed on the revenant.
“No one takes what’s mine.” Jasper’s voice was a primal growl. He brought his hand up, and the revenant was thrown into the wall and pinned there. “Get the fuck out,” Jasper ordered.
Chants drifted to my ears and The Elites appeared behind Lauris, held aloft by winged gargoyles.
