Page 74 of Soul of a Witch

Stopping in front of the doors, I glanced back at Callum. He folded his arms, nodding his head toward the door as if to say,Go on.

What a dick.

I grasped the lock and it sprung open in my fingers. The doors swung inward, creaking on their hinges. A rush of stale, dusty air rushed out to greet me. The walls were lined with statuary standing in rounded alcoves with tall, narrow windows illuminating them from behind. Gleaming copper beams supported the domed ceiling, like rows of crosses lining the long narrow path ahead.

In the dreary light, wisps of shadow drifted silently through the gloom. They hadn’t noticed me — at least, not yet. Gulping at the sight of them, I fumbled to pull the grimoire out of my bag and hurriedly flipped through the pages.

There were plenty of spells that sounded unpleasant: flogging, flaying, ripping, and burning spells. But were these meant to be deadly? Or was I only going to irritate the monsters, encouraging them to attack?

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have time to give it any more thought. Callum slapped his hand loudly against the wall of the mausoleum, nearly making me jump out of my skin and instantly drawing the attention of every wraith present. A dozen pairs of glowing silver eyes turned toward me, shrieks echoing in the air as they realized an intruder was in their midst.

“You’re such an asshole!” I snapped. A wall of billowing flame manifested before me as I flung my arms up in panic, so massive and so hot I flinched away from it, causing the barrier to dissipate instantaneously.

My concentration was already shattered as I sprinted out of the way of the encroaching wraiths, only to find myself surrounded. Using one of the copper columns as a shield between myself and them, I tried to read one of the spells in the grimoire as rapidly as I could.

“Convertat ossa…ossa sua ad …ad pulvis!”

Why the hell did nothing happen?!

“What a unique spell to choose,” Callum said. He was leaning against the door frame, watching with rapt attention as I fled around the interior with the wraiths at my heels. “Turning one’s bones to dust would indeed be an unpleasant way to die. If one had bones in the first place.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm!” I yelped, stumbling and nearly falling flat on my back as two wraiths flew forward, their ragged robes billowing around them as they slashed their blades toward me. Still with no time to think, I defensively put up my arms and a thrum of power pulsed around me. The wraiths were pushed back, but only barely.

This wasn’t working. My focus wasn’t strong enough for any of the spells I attempted, and I couldn’t read while being pursued.

Callum was now examining his claws, staring at them with extreme focus. “You’re going to exhaust yourself running in circles.”

“Shut. Up!”

I flung two useless balls of flame toward the pursuing monsters, but the fire dissipated into harmless smoke. A deadly blade swung down, coming within inches of my face —

Only to be stopped by Callum’s hand.

He stood over me, arm outstretched, gripping the sword as if it was made of wood.

“When fighting with magic, it’s imperative you understand your enemies,” he said. His fingers tightened, veins blackening in his arms. “Wraiths are barely corporeal. Their forms are extremely fragile, therefore, using the element of air would be wisest.”

He forced the wraith back, then seized another. His claws tore through their bodies easily, rending them into pieces of ragged fabric that screamed as they disappeared.

“Or I could get myself some claws,” I said. Sarcasm wasn’t the right choice.

One of the wraiths slipped around him and came at me. With a terrified shriek, I swiftly threw everything I could think of at it: bursts of air, poofs of fire, even a strange ball of freezing cold water that I wasn’t entirely sure how I manifested. The grimoire slipped out of my grasp, and I scrambled for it, seizing it from the floor right as the wraith descended toward me and I realized I’d made a grievous error.

Callum had the same realization. He crossed the room in a split second, gripping the wrath by the back of its cloak and ripping it away from me. Lifting it into the air with one hand, he slammed it continually against the stone floor.

In just a few seconds, he’d destroyed every wraith. They weren’t even a threat to him.

But with our enemies dispatched, the demon’s dark attention turned on me.

“What a tragedy,” he said. His face was cast in shadow, but I could feel his eyes on me. “The bold but ill-prepared witch fell victim to her enemies. Shocking.”

“You told me to go after them!” Drenched with embarrassment, I huffed as I shoved the grimoire back into my bag.

“Hubris can be even more deadly than fear,” he said, circling me slowly. His claws clicked on the floor with every step; an ominous sound within that enclosed, echoing space. “I told you to dispatch them; I did not tell you how. You could have asked. You chose not to.”

“Well, I didn’t know I was supposed to!” I was all bluster now, snapping back at him for no reason other than to have the last word. Turning for the door, I only made it a few steps before something snapped around my wrist and yanked me back.

A black rope wound around my wrist, holding me tight. The other end was in Callum’s hand, and he coiled it around his palm, dragging me closer.

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