Page 67 of Witch Untold
Micah and Mel exited the examination room through a door on the far side of it. The lights dimmed, leaving Sloane and Wren lying in gloom, the only illumination coming from the machines that monitored them.
“They’ll be out to talk to us in a moment,” Ursula said. “Hang tight. I’ll get us some coffee.”
She strode off, leaving Elijah and me alone in the small waiting area. Magnolia and rose hues struggled to give the room a homey vibe, burnt-orange blinds added a splash of real color, but none of it distracted from the function of the room.
This was a room where people waited to receive bad news. How many outliers had sat here while people they cared about were examined, treated, experimented on. This was more than a clinic, this was a test center where outliers, both voluntary and unvoluntary, were brought. It wasn’t like outliers could go to a regular hospital or clinic. We didn’t get regular ailments, but the shit thatcouldgo wrong with us was way beyond the scope of human comprehension.
“Sit down.” Elijah steered me toward the nearest chair. “Just breathe.” I caught sight of my reflection in the small mirror above the seating area. Golden hair windblown and stained with blood, cheeks smudged with crimson, cornflower-blue eyes two solemn pits in my pale face. Elijah looked worse, though. Gray and fatigued, clothes dark and crusty with dried blood.
God, I was sick of the sight of blood.
I parked my ass and leaned my head against the wall. “What do you think’s happening back at Grimswood?”
Elijah slid into the seat beside me. “I’m sure Jasper, the witches, and the wolves have it under control.”
“The Sons of Adam want Sloane dead.”
“Not if we can get this infection out of her.”
I loved his optimism, his calm, soothing tones that made me believe everything would be okay. But the realist in me was too strong. “And if we can’t get rid of the infection?” We needed to be prepared. We needed to have a plan no matter how sick that plan made me feel. “I won’t be able to do it, Elijah. And I won’t let them do it.”
“I’ll do it,” he said.
We didn’t need to clarify whatitwas.
Best not to say the words.
I cleared my throat. “Wren changed after all. Conah said he would. He said he’d become a monster.” I sat up straighter. “Shit, did you see Conah? I didn’t see him or Lauris when the shit hit the fan.”
“Conah was outside with Lauris. He probably couldn’t get into the atrium. The place is barred to demons.”
“And gargoyles.”
“By default, yes,” Elijah said. “Gargoyles are rumored to have celestial blood, just like the demons who are descended from the original fallen.”
“Really?” I twisted in my seat to face him, curiosity piqued. “Gargoyles are celestial?”
“That’s the understanding. Stories say they’re a breed of celestials who chose to leave the Beyond and join forces with the original witches in their fight against Croatoan. But only the gargoyles themselves can confirm or deny the stories, and they’re pretty close-lipped when it comes to their origins.”
Ursula returned carrying two takeaway cups of coffee. “Here you go.”
I took mine gratefully and sipped the sweet, milky drink. “You remembered how I take it.”
“I’m good with little things like that.” Ursula smiled. “I just got off the phone with Anna. She wants you to know the Sons of Adam have gone, for now. Everyone is safe. She needs a sample of Sloane’s blood with the infection intact to track this original vampire.” She pulled a vial from her pocket and handed it to me. “I’ve given her my word that we’ll take good care of Sloane. We know how important she is.”
She wasn’t just referring to Sloane as a person but to Sloane as an Elite. The coven needed her for negation, to eliminate the revenants, but for me it was more than that. Sloane was my friend, she was my…She meant a lot to me. I couldn’t lose her. I didn’t want to be in a world without her electric blues, and the soft way she called me Cupcake. I wanted the chance to know her better. She deserved to live.
Two Magiguard pushed open the waiting room door and joined us. Micha and Mel, no doubt. It never failed to amaze me how witches and warlocks worked together in the Magiguard. The organization was female-dominated, and it was unique to see miasma and chaos working together for the greater good.
Of course, not all warlocks were wankers; evidence of that sat at my side. The Order was a fanatical, power-hungry exception, and the animosity between witches and warlocks, in general, was greatly exaggerated.
I’d learned about all this from my in-depth research a few months back. When witches had sons, they were always devoid of magic, but their daughters usually had magical ability. For warlocks, it was the other way around. Daughters had no power, sons did. This way the balance of witches and warlocks was maintained, and it was also why it was expressly forbidden for a warlock and a witch to have offspring, as this could produce an abomination. Not sure what kind of abomination, but still.
And I was totally distracting myself, because the expression on these Magiguard’s faces did not inspire hope.
“How does it look?” Ursula asked them.
“Sloane is stable,” Mel said. “The infection hasn’t spread too far. We’ve administered the prototype Pire X, and now it’s a matter of waiting.”
