Page 95 of The Witch’s Daughter

Vincent smiled down at me. “And I intend to give them what they want.”

I yelped as his fist threaded into my hair and dragged me up onto the stage, pretending that my wolf wasn’t seconds away from tearing through my skin and ripping his throat out.

Just say the word.

Not until I know what we’re up against.

“What is it they want?” It took everything in me not to struggle, even as Vincent wrapped his arm around my waist, pinning me to his side.

This close to Calla, I could smell the wolfsbane on her. If she’d been drugged, no wonder she couldn’t fight off the restraints. It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left her alone with him.

“Blood.” Vincent winked at me, like I was in on the sick joke.

“But blood magic has a mind of its own.” I shook my head frantically, stalling as I tried to think about how to get Calla down and us both out of here. I had enough information to last me a lifetime. “It’s dangerous. You can’t control the spell once it’s in motion, and you can’t do anything to reverse it.”

I don’t think this guy listens to reason.

“Who says I want to?” Vincent turned to address the congregation. “Believers and stewards of the old ways, today is the day we end this. Your patience is well-served. The blood from the most powerful among us will be the key to ushering in a new era of magic. It’s time to change the power dynamics of this world.”

“Wait a second.” But I needed at least a minute to catch up. Jaxon was right. Vincent just wanted power. Is that why he’d gathered the strongest witches here? So he had a buffet to choose from?

“You can’t… Blood magic is…” I tried to think of what Gram had taught me, and came up short. We didn’t practice dark magic like that in my woods. “You can’t take Calla’s lifeforce without her permission.”

Calla mumbled her clear lack of permission through the cloth over her mouth.

“No?” he asked. “I thought she was no one to you. What do you care about taking her blood?”

I refused to look at Calla, even when I heard her whine. “I might not care,” I lied, hopefully convincingly, “but my Aunt Kera is close to Alpha Uki of Amarock, and they’ll both go to war with you over Calla’s death.”

Yes, I was pulling the badass aunt card.

And no, I didn’t care what anyone thought. Whatever got us out of this mess in one piece was my current plan.

“Silly wolf.” Vincent smiled at me with all his teeth. “Do you think some backwoods, small pack bitch really frightens me?”

She should.

I frowned. “Then why…”

“Why what?” he chuckled. “Why bring you here? Wine you and dine you? Treat you like you were special?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling small.

“Because I can.” His face was a mask of cruelty as the congregation began to chant a mixture of dead languages I didn’t know and didn’t care to stick around to find out.

Let’s go with plan B.

My claws extended, but Vincent moved fast, slashing the golden knife across Calla’s bound wrist. She screamed again. I lunged, teeth bared as my bones began to crack and rearrange.

A gust of wind blew me backwards, and I crashed into a golden statue, slamming against my breaking spine. I yelped, mid-change, and slumped to the floor as the wind howled in my ears.

Peering up through the wind blurring the tears in my eyes, I watched Calla’s blood flow into a jeweled trough at Vincent’s feet.

Then he turned his sights on me.

I can fight this. My wolf surged forward, trying to finish the shift.

No. I held her back. I need to get close enough to use my magic.