Page 16 of Witch Untold
I don’t want to die. I won’t. Heat surges from my toes and kisses my cheeks. My wings flare and snap against the air, then I’m shooting out of the hole like a rocket. My body makes an arch several feet across the snow and hits the ground in a heap. Breath whooshes out of my lungs.
I made it. I fucking made it.
An eerie howl drifts out of the hole. Feck. I scramble up as my wings retract, done with hauling my ass, but it’s all good. They came through, and I’ll keep my promise to them.
I tug on my coat and break into a run, away from the hole.
Yeah, I’ll make it up to them, but I’ll have to stay alive first.
* * *
JASPER
Inside the castle, balustrades, tapestries, stone floors, and stone walls greet us. An over-the-top staircase leads from the foyer to the upper floor. I haven’t seen one of these in a long while.
I’m not here to hide. To sneak about and infiltrate. I don’t have time for that. They have something I want, and I intend to take it.
Conah doesn’t argue with me.
He’s perfectly aware that we’ve probably already tripped alarms linked to the glamour that hides this place. The occupants know we’re here, just as they’d have known Elijah was here.
They have him.
I’m getting him back.
So we wait in the impressively gloomy, gothic entranceway with its high ceiling and wrought iron chandelier that sports thick wax candles flickering ominously.
“Spooky,” Conah mutters.
“Says the demon.”
He snorts. “The Underealm is nothing like this.”
I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been that far into their world. Not for want of trying, but it’s one of the places I can never follow Cora. The Dominus quarters are a middle ground, but even going there saps my energy. Not that it matters any longer. Cora is here, so here is where I want to be.
We don’t have to wait long before a figure dressed in a blazer and formal slacks appears at the top of the grand staircase. His spectacles glint in the candlelight.
“Welcome.” He smiles. “My masters have been waiting for you to arrive.”
“For us?” Conah asks. “Specifically.”
The man shrugs. “For someone like you. I suppose you’re here for your friend?”
“You suppose right,” Conah says. “He shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake. We just want to take him home.”
Ah, forever the diplomat.
“He came here to spy.” The man’s spectacles flash. “He came here to circumvent my masters’ deadline.”
“It was a mistake,” Conah says again.
Fuck this. I jump to the spot behind the fool and grip the back of his neck. He doesn’t cry out or flinch, and a prickle skates up my spine.
It’s almost as if he expected this.
“I don’t give a fuck about what your masters want. If they could have come for Cora, they would have. They’re weak and I’m not. Bring Elijah to us. Now.”
“I can’t. But I can take you to him.”
