Page 105 of Filthy Little Witch
Atlas gave the knife to Wes, and he cut himself over the chalice, his serious gaze meeting mine as he did.
“Soul to soul, we weave this thread,” he said, “Not for life, nor love, nor dread. But that which bound us once in pain shall never find that path again.”
After he finished, I picked up the chalice and brought it to my lips, gulping down our combined essence. The energy in the atmosphere picked up, the circle flaming to life, the candles burning brighter. Smoke filled the valley, and my sisters began chanting, invoking ancient, powerful magic that intensified the ambiance.
Atlas drank after me, his thoughts churning, his anxiety warring with elation as it slithered through our tether. When he swallowed, the circle sparked to life like fireworks.
Wes drank next, and that was when it hit. My muscles tensed, and something shoved me in the chest, toppling me over. Atlas grabbed one hand, and Wesson grabbed the other while they joined palms across from me. That emptiness inside me, the darkness, the flagrant void of whatever we’d brought back with us, circled through our connection like a whirlwind, picking up steam.
Memories flashed through my mind like a movie montage. I saw the two of them as boys, huddled together in a motel bed, watching a horror movie and trying to scare each other. Next came me as a girl, cuddling with my father on the couch while my mother read me a bedtime story. Them learning monsters were real, Wes’s eyes wide, Atlas’s toothy grin big with excitement.
On and on the memories went.
Me on my father’s lap while he taught me how to hold a knife.
Atlas kissing a girl for the first time at age twelve and thinking it was grosser than he expected.
Wes getting an A on a paper in middle school and realizing he was smarter than his father had ever given him credit for, that he could actually do something with his life.
Atlas going on his first mission and chopping the head off a vampire, returning home covered in blood and aching for a hug no one would give him.
Wes going to homecoming in the best suit he could find at the thrift store, praying for a normal life, knowing it would never happen.
Me learning my parents had died and crying myself to sleep in Tita’s spare bedroom.
Atlas and Wes burying what remained of their father’s corpse, each wishing they could hold hands and cry, knowing their father would be appalled if they did.
I watched their lives play out in my mind. They bore witness to every pain I ever had, every struggle I’d ever endured.
Finally, the darkness ebbed, and a vibrant energy took root. I pulled from the earth and spread it out to them, gifting them with this piece of me. It reinvigorated what we already had, making it infinitely more potent and powerful.
When we opened our eyes again in that sacred clearing, we were one soul. One person in three bodies. One consciousness living together.
And I felt my magic roar to life.
CHAPTER 34
Epilogue
MARTA
Two Years Later
I sat in the back seat of Atlas’s car and stared at the dark, decrepit building in front of us. The broken windows and decaying brick hinted that the place had been abandoned for eons, which made it a perfect spot for vampires to nest. Wes loaded his gun with iron bullets in the passenger seat while Atlas drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced around.
“You sure this is the right place?” Atlas asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied, double checking my knives on my holster. Firm and steady, just like I wanted.
“Looks creepy,” he replied with a sigh.
“How many you think are in there?” Wes pursed his lips and ducked his head to better take in the eerie view.
“Isobel said ten, but you know how vampires are,” I replied.
Of course they did. They’d been hunting vampires since before I graduated high school. And besides, in the two years since the soul binding, they’d come to know everything I knew. There were no barriers between us anymore, no secrets, no hidden trysts in dark closets. I thought it would be strange to have such a profound connection to two other people, but it had only made us stronger.
We were deadly on missions, working as a unit, anticipating each other’s moves and countering with hive-mind precision. Witches weren’t supposed to be this close to their warriors. We were meant to do the dirty work while they protected us and watched our backs. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Atlas, Wes, and I completed each other in truly miraculous ways.
