Page 145 of Change
I squeezed Gloria’s hand once more, glancing toward the lioness and hyena. Even though nothing seemed to affect me now—the panic and fear was gone—I still couldn’t speak. My words had been stolen from me, and not even this situation could snap me out of it.
But she still seemed to get my meaning.
“Ican’t.” Gloria’s low whisper seemed to ring through the room. “I told you that.”
My ears popped as my attention was pulled to her hands, to the congealed blood around her wrists. A warmth was beginning to spread through me, and the electric current of rotten magic grew stronger, heavier, with every breath.
I sat back on my ankles, my movements felt slow and otherworldly, as if I was forever stuck in slow motion, as I looked at my own wrists. I was younger than Gloria. Where her paper-thin skin had easily torn, the manacles they’d used on me had barely left a rash.
Although I didn’t speak, and neither of us had any idea what was going to happen next, she stayed still, barely breathing.
I was just doing what felt right, acting on instinct, as I raised my hand, fingers still colored with her blood, and pressed my fingers over the center of her forehead.
A door slammed open, and frantic footsteps pounded against the floor, drawing closer, but I ignored them.
Shift.
The taste of salt was heavy in my mouth, and my whole body thrummed as a velvet darkness shuttered over my sight and my awareness was pinpointed to one instant.
Gloria—and I knew it was her because it could be no one else—young and terrified, curled into a ball against a brick house. Her light pink dress was torn and dirty, and shoulder-length red hair tangled around her shoulders.
“Gloria,” I knelt in front of her. “You need to shift.”
She startled, hugging her knees as she stared at me. “Who are you?”
“I’m…” My name was on the tip of my tongue, but I paused. My skin was humming with something both unfamiliar and familiar, and no other response seemed adequate. “I’m Mu.”
Because Bianca, right now, was a nobody.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “You’re agirl.”
A ripple of indigitation passed over me. “So are you.” I could have argued further, but the importance of this situation—and my mission—was not lost. “Never mind that, you need to shift now, okay?”
“But…” She frowned down at her hands. “I can’t. Mr. Cole did something to me. He said I’ll never be a wolf again.”
A chill passed through the air, followed by the heady presence of tainted magic. It wasn’t even the most powerful spell in the grand scheme of things. Yet, it was binding—in this realm, I could even see the thin black threads wrapping around Gloria’s small figure.
But there was also a weakness.
Not all curses worked this way, of course, but that’s what witches got when they worked with blood.
Especially someone else’s.
“Youcan.” I knelt in front of her, waiting for her to look at me. “Youhold the power with this magic, not Edward Cole. Most curses rely on the victim’s belief that they are cursed.” The keyword beingmostcurses, and this one fell into that category. “That’s what gives this magic power. If you don’t think you can shift, you won’t be able to.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” She wiped at her eyes, the action smearing dirt over her face. “I’ve been trying to change. It doesn’t work. I can’t break a witch’s curse.”
Internally, I groaned. I was terrible with perfectly happy children on an average day, and this was not an average day. The two of us were in a memory, another realm, somewhere… I wasn’t sure what was going on, or whose power this was right now. But whatever, there was no time to linger.
I had no experience in calming hysterical children or offering pep talks. This wassonot my expertise.
This left me no choice—I had to rely on hero-worship. Kids would believe anything.
“Just who do you think I am?” My smile felt feeble and lopsided. “Of course, I can take care of the witchcraft. That’s nothing to me.” After all, it would be easier with those threads broken, but I couldn’t force anything. The main component of breaking this curse was, “I needyouto believe in me—and yourself—and shift.”
“You’reMu,” she said, tears drying.
“Yes, that’s right.” I felt like such an idiot.
