Page 79 of Wicked Ends
It strikes me as I follow the trail of magic that we’re working together now, me, Rose, and her lovers. The thought should disgust me, but instead, there’s something almost satisfying about it. They might hate me, but they need me. And I need them, though I’d rather swallow my own fucking tongue than admit the words out loud.
My ancestor Sebastian would be turning in his grave. But Sebastian isn’t here. I am. And what I want has changed.
The blood mark keeps me aware of how Rose is feeling, and right now she is worried, and also afraid. I wonder if she can sense how much her safety has come to matter to me. But I’ve made damn sure to keep that buried deep.
I catch the sound of hushed voices nearby. Moving as quietly as I can, I give them a wide berth, coming at them from deeper in the forest. Through the trees, I see Jasmine, and then I see Thorne. Thorne is dressed for the ball in a pale blue gown that glitters like a disco ball under the moonlight. Her blonde hair is pulled up, but strands have come loose. Jasmine has her arm linked through Thorne’s, guiding her deeper into the woods.
“Just a little further,” Jasmine is saying, her silvery hair unbound and wild, trailing down the black cloak she’s wearing. “There’s a place that is just perfect for the spell I promised to teach you.”
Thorne’s voice is uncertain. “Shouldn’t we go back? Harry will be looking for me, and it’s getting late.”
“Time is irrelevant when we’re talking about power, dear,” Jasmine cuts her off. “Don’t you want to be the strongest witch? Even stronger than little Rose Smith?”
I watch Thorne’s face, see the greed at the mention of power, but also doubt. She’s starting to realize something isn’t right.
“This dress is hard to walk in, and I was really looking forward to the ball.”
Jasmine’s fingers dig into Thorne’s arm, and I see her pull a face. “Don’t be an idiot. There will be other balls,” Jasmine says, her voice hardening. “This opportunity won’t come again.”
Thorne scowls at the idiot comment and tries to pull away.
Time to interrupt before Jasmine loses what little patience she has. I step out from where I’m hiding.
“There you are, Miss Hawthorne.” I walk towards them. “You were missed at the ball. And you know the academy rules, the woods are off limits.”
Both women whirl toward me. Thorne looks relieved, which says everything. Jasmine’s expression is neutral, but her yellow eyes glitter with either amusement or rage. Hard to tell with her, the line between the two is pretty fucking thin in her warped mind.
“Ash,” Jasmine says. “What a surprise to find you wandering the woods during such a lovely event.”
“I could say the same,” I reply, moving closer. “Especially when you have a student dressed for a ball out here in the cold.”
Jasmine doesn’t release Thorne’s arm. “We were just having a little chat. Headmistress business. Thorne has shown such promise lately.”
Thorne shifts, trying to pull away subtly from Jasmine’s grip.
“Go back to the academy,” I say directly to Thorne.
Jasmine finally releases her arm. “We can continue our discussion tomorrow.”
Thorne hesitates, but only for a moment. She gathers her skirts and hurries past me, throwing a grateful look over her shoulder. I wait until she’s out of range before turning back to Jasmine, whose face has transformed. Her pretense drops away.
She begins to circle me, and I turn with her, keeping her in my sights. She’s dangerous in a way few witches are, as untethered from reality as she is, and completely without conscience.
“Got a secret, don’t you, Ash?” She laughs and swishes her cloak back and forth. A wave of revulsion goes over me. “Our little Rose has been quite busy, spreading her legs for the vampire, the ghost, the incubus, and now you.” She laughs again. “Helena thought she could control her. I know better.”
I say nothing, but my hand tightens into a fist at my side.
“She’ll be magnificently delicious.” Jasmine’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. “All that natural magic, combined with the power she’s absorbed from her activities. A feast.”
“You won’t touch her,” I say, my voice cold.
“Won’t I?” Jasmine stops. “Stay out of my way, Ash. Or your little pet will suffer before I devour her. I can be quite creative with pain.” She leans in closer. “And I’ll make you know it through that lovely blood mark. Every second of her agony, you’ll have a front row seat.”
With that, she steps back, turns and walks deeper into the woods, her silver hair disappearing into the darkness.
I stand there, thinking. Jasmine is stronger than I expected, gorged on stolen magic from at least three victims. But she’s also erratic, unhinged. That makes her both more and less dangerous. She’s unpredictable, but also likely to make mistakes.
Rose is the target, she has been right from the beginning. Jasmine wants her not just her magic, but what she believes is Rose’s strength and power, and she’s not going to stop until she gets it.
