The Darkest Witch

Chapter 3

3

We drove for several hours nonstop. When we finally stopped, it was for him to feed while I got breakfast from a roadside gas station.

And to switch cars.

As much as I hated it, Killian compelled a guy to switch cars with us and forget everything about it. We went north. A couple of hours later, we stopped and did it again. This time, we drove east. Then we did again, and went south.

For twenty-four hours, Killian only stopped to get food for me and switch cars, hoping to lose whoever was tracking us.

The first couple of hours in the car had been tense. I was sure the warlocks were following us, and the way Killian gripped the wheel and kept the car steady at an incredible speed didn’t help.

But after the third car and direction change, I was tired, grumpy, and plain bored. I ended up sleeping most of the zigzag trip.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun was rising over snowcapped mountains.

“Where are we?” I asked, straightening in my seat. This time, Killian had gotten a Range Rover, and it was incredibly comfortable and full of fancy, high-end tech.

“Canada,” he said. “North of Prince Albert.”

I stared at him. “We crossed the Canadian border? How?”

Killian spared one quick, bored glance at me. Of course. Compulsion. How else?

His shoulders had relaxed for the first time since the attack at the inn. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“I do, but I can’t wait until you’re ready.”

“I might never be ready. And right now, we have nothing else to do other than driving.”

I frowned. “And then what? We’ll switch cars and direction again?”

“Probably.”

“It’ll take weeks for us to get to the East Coast this way.”

“Better than being captured. Next time, it won’t be a dozen warlocks. It’ll be fifty. And I don’t think we can run from fifty warlocks.”

“So …” I was really curious, but I was afraid of opening old wounds. “Those were Soren’s warlocks?”

Eyes on the road, Killian nodded. “I’m guessing that warlock who overthrew Soren … what was his name?”

“Keeran,” I said. Delia had mentioned him, although she didn’t know details.

“Right. Keeran.” He glanced at me, at the bag at my feet—the box. “It has been twenty years, and they are as invested in the boxes as they were before. They won’t stop coming after it. After you.”

I clicked my tongue. “Tack knew I could open the box. How?”

“I don’t know, though I’m sure that’s why they are after you.” He paused. “I wonder what happened to Acalla. If she was still with them, then they wouldn’t need you.”

“Maybe she ran away, like Delia did.”

“Or Soren finally killed her.”

“But didn’t he love her?”

“Soren was insane. Even if he loved her, she wasn’t safe with him.”

And there was the kid too. When Delia ran with the boxes, Acalla had a toddler son, Esmund. Was he safe with his father? I hoped he hadn’t killed them. I hoped he hadn’t killed anyone else, though from the tales I had heard from Delia and Killian, that seemed unlikely.

I shrank in the seat. I was tired of this mess. Sometimes I wished I could just give the box to Killian and tell him to take it to DuMoir Castle by himself. But now that the warlocks knew I could open the box, would they leave me alone?

I was tied to this fate, no matter how much I wanted to change it.

“Are you hungry?” Killian asked.

I pressed a hand to my stomach. I didn’t even remember the last time I ate, or what I ate. “It’s breakfast time,” I told him.

He nodded.

There was a small town at the next exit and we stopped at a quaint diner. While I went in and got us a table, Killian went scouting. He was too wired and wanted to make sure there was no one suspicious around the diner. Or the several blocks around it.

I ordered a healthy plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast; a mug of tea for me; and some coffee for Killian. I was halfway through my plate when he showed up.

“Sorry.” He sat across from me and leaned over the table. “I saw a deer in a wooded area and …”

He didn’t need to finish. Oh, lord. The bite I had in my mouth soured, but I forced it down. I had to eat, even if I had lost my appetite. But it was hard to push it down. It took longer than I wanted, but finally, I finished it all.

Impatience shone in Killian’s eyes when I pushed my empty plate to the side.

“I’m ready,” I told him.

“Maybe you should order something to go,” he said. “So we don’t need to stop for lunch.”

That was a good idea, but did he expect me to stay in the car for hours and not stretch my legs? And what about peeing? He might not have that problem, but I did.

I stood up. “We can stop by some fast-food joint and order at the drive-thru.”

I turned to go to the counter and pay, and ended up bumping my arm into someone’s. A jolt raced through my skin, raising the hairs on my arms.

“Whoa,” the someone said.

I looked up at the girl in front of me. She was beautiful with long, dark-brown hair, tanned skin, and round chocolate eyes.

“You felt that?”

“It was quite the shock,” she said, amused. She smiled at the guy beside her—a tall young man with brown hair and blue eyes. He was just as beautiful as she was. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I was the one who bumped into you.”

Killian stood by my side and together, we went to the counter, where I paid for the meal in cash. We exited the diner and walked the short distance to our car across the street.

But Killian didn’t unlock the doors. He stood beside the car, his head low.

I rounded the car and walked to him. “What is it?”

“I hear something …” He closed his eyes, focusing. “Voices, a strange language.” He paused. “They are hiding, around the diner.”

My eyes bugged. “More warlocks? Do you think they found us?”

“I don’t know …” He looked up, at a narrow alley two stores from the diner. Then his gaze shifted to the corner on the other side. “They are moving.”

A second later, ten figures emerged in black pants, shirts, vests, and wearing long red cloaks with hoods that concealed their faces. As a swarm, they entered the diner.

“They think we’re still in there,” I said, watching in horror. “We should go. Before they realize we’re not there.”

“No, I don’t think they are here for you.” Killian stared at the diner.

I turned and watched it too.

From the large glass windows, we could see the people inside the diner screaming and running. Most of them made it out.

Except for that couple.

Cornered by the hooded men, the girl picked up several vials from the slim belt around her waist and the guy held up a sword—where had that come from? The girl smiled as she threw a couple of vials at the hooded men. Dark smoke swirled around them. When the smoke faded, three hooded men were down.

“She’s a witch,” I whispered, stunned. And just like me, she was good with potions. I ran toward the diner.

“Lavinia!” Killian called out.

I fished the dagger from inside my boot and joined the fray. “Hey, stupid!” I called at the men’s back. Two of them turned to me. When they came for me, I let myself grow scared—it was the only way to activate my magic. I released a blue bolt at one, and Killian took care of the second one. He snapped the man’s neck like a twig.

I felt both disgust for the way he handled this and pride that he had joined me.

Killian and I handled two more, until all ten hooded men were at our feet, either dead or unconscious. My stomach recoiled at the thought, but I held on to it. I didn’t push it away; I didn’t ignore it. Death would never be easy or okay, but it seemed to be a big part of my life now. The sooner I got used to people dying like that, the better.

The girl looked at me. “A witch.” She glanced at Killian. “And a vampire. I like it.”

I frowned. “You’re a witch too.”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s a little complicated, but yeah, I am.”

What could be complicated about being a witch? Regardless, she was the first witch close to my age that I had met, and for some reason that made me more excited than it should.

“I’m Lavinia.” I gestured to the vampire. “And this is Killian.”

With that same stoic and dangerous mien from when I first met him, Killian dipped his chin.

“Cool.” The girl picked up a bottle from the floor that hadn’t broken. “I’m Evelyn.”

Then the guy said, “I’m Asher.”