Page 79 of Soul of a Witch

Sybil had been looking for a way topoisonthe God. And somewhere down here, amid all her research, I was certain she’d found it.

Sprinting for the ladder, I nearly slipped several times in my enthusiasm to reach the surface. As I scrambled out of the tunnel, I called, “Grams! You’re not going to believe this! I found —”

Thump.

The sound came from behind me, from somewhere deeper within the room. I envisioned a wet piece of meat slapping against the stone floor when I heard it.

Then came thescraping. A slow, wet rasping. As if something drenched and heavy were being dragged across the ground.

Turning, I peered between the tall shelves, searching the shadows. A cold feeling of dread prickled over my skull, and I was immediately certain I needed to get out of the vault.

But it was too late.

From between the shelves emerged a creature, the likes of which I’d never seen. It was big — easily ten feet long, and as tall as I was. It had a long, seal-like body and wriggled itself across the ground like a snake. It used clawed front limbs to drag itself forward, its pale pink flesh covered in slime that streaked across the stones. Its bulbous head was crowned with a cluster of eyeballs that looked like peeled grapes. Its mouth was agape, unable to fully close because of the massive needle-like teeth that jutted from its upper and lower jaws.

It was between me and the hallway. Its head bobbed about, making warbling vocalizations that turned my stomach. Backing away, one slow step at a time, I realized the creature seemed to be blind. None of its gray eyeballs focused on me…

At least, not until my foot caught on the edge of a table, jostling it and sending several books falling to the floor.

Then the creature lunged.

It moved far faster than I ever would have anticipated. It lashed out, one of its front limbs knocking painfully against my ribs and sending me sprawling to the floor. It kept coming, its jaw gaping open wide enough to swallow me whole. I seized everything I could get my hands on to throw at it: books, empty ink bottles, discarded candles. It whipped its thick body around, using its tail end like a cudgel to slam me against the wall.

Distantly, I could hear my grandmother calling to me from the radio, the static sharp as it drowned her words. My back was to the wall and there was no direction I could run. I lifted my hands in panic, sparks flying from my fingertips as pathetic poofs of flame billowed away from me.

Its jaws were descending, and there was no escape.

I needed a weapon. I needed fangs, as massive as this beast’s own teeth.

I wasn’t going to die in my own fucking house.

For a moment, it felt as if my head was splitting in two. My lower jaw was trying to rip itself off my body. I was screaming, and my vision flashed crimson.

In the blur of red, I lunged forward, acting on instinct alone. I snapped my aching jaw, again and again, drenching myself in more thick, wet, redness. I was aware of a horrible shrieking, and a smell that was as pungent as molten metal. Warmth filled my mouth and drenched down my front. I tasted rot and something sweet. Stretchy sinew ripped between my teeth —

And suddenly, arms were around me. A strength that I couldn’t overcome held me down as I thrashed, jaws still snapping pointlessly as the reddened world faded. My gasping breaths turned to sobs of confusion. The fury and terror that demanded I keep struggling receded, leaving me as weak and limp as a baby bird.

I recognized the stone-like arms clinging to me. I knew Callum’s voice as he spoke frantically in my ear, saying, “Calm down, Everly, calm down, it’s alright. It’s dead, you’ve killed it. You’re all right.”

28

Callum

“It was one of the Eld,” Winona declared. “Formed out of the corrupted carcasses of deep-sea fish, to judge by the looks of it. Nasty business. But truly a remarkable way to discover you can shift, my dear. Our magic provides, even when we least expect it.”

Winona was handling the situation with remarkable calm, and frankly, it infuriated me. My vision was still tunneled, blurred at the edges. Everly kept trying to get up from her seat and pace, and I wanted to tie her down so I could finish tending to the open gash on her upper arm.

The cut on her cheek. The bruising across her back. The split lip. All the little injuries taunted me, showing me in no uncertain terms how close my witch had come to dying.

Again.

Blood drenched the front of her shirt and stained her mouth. Blood from the beast she’d slaughtered, ripping it apart after she magically transformed her own jaw into that of her enemy.

She was still shaking, even as she nibbled at a frosted lemon cake and sipped a hot cup of tea. She kept fidgeting as I cleaned the wound on her arm, continually reaching up to rub her jaw, occasionally reaching into her mouth to run her finger over her teeth.

I’d heard legends of witches who could physically change their own bodies, morphing their physical forms like demons could. It was incredibly rare. I’d never seen it myself.

Until today.

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