Page 7 of Rogue Witch

Raith pointedly ignores the Headmaster. “No one can match the Kispu witches’ understanding of magic.”

Except Leilah, I think, and I know Ethan and Raith are thinking the same thing. Many incarnations of practicing magic has made her—our Ciarah—a natural. Right now, her biggest hindrance is being twenty-two years old and not remembering past lives.

“Calling in the Kispu Order may not be a bad idea, Grand Witch,” I say. Olympia once warned me not to think that my ability to charm her would always work in my favor. Let’s hope this isn’t that moment.

The chill in her voice returns when she says, “I will give it consideration.”

Raith’s eyes turn to slits and I start when I’m certain I glimpse his front lip protrude slightly as it does when his fangs elongate. Only two things cause an ancient vampire like Raith to show his fangs: hunger and extreme anger. Raith fed on Ciarah less than two weeks ago, which means he’s not hungry. Olympia will not take kindly to the vampire unleashing his anger in her presence, or worse, on her.

“If you like, Grand Witch,” I attempt a casual tone, “I will be happy to handle the matter.”

Her mouth thins, and I know she isn’t pleased with the idea of the Kispu Order being called in, for that implies she might have made a mistake, and the Grand Witch doesn’t make mistakes.

“I will, of course, work closely with them to ensure you are kept up to date with their findings,” I say.

“You always keep me up on the findings of your investigations, don’t you, Blade?” she replies.

She is referring to my inability to penetrate the Zidruhin, the priests who worship our enemy, the demigod and Shadow mage Damien. My temper flares, but I maintain a cool smile. “As you know, not everyone shares information as readily as the Kispu Order.”

She gives a mirthless laugh. “I never considered you naïve, Blade. The Kispu don’t share information they can later use to their advantage.”

“They are not the Gestapo, Olympia.”

Her eyes flash with indignation, but the merest hint of a flush appears in her cheeks.

“I believe I can persuade them to be forthcoming,” I say. “And lest you forget, they will likely find that the Reaping is the cause of the glitches in the virtual world.”

Her gaze sharpens. “There can be no other answer.”

Chapter Five

LEILAH

Reaping, my mind shouts. This is—must be—a Reaping.

The Shadow gliding closer is nothing like the one in the War Games. The Shadow in the virtualverse was two dimensional compared to this elegant, thick black ribbon that floats in the air like a fish in water. This Shadow makes me want to reach out and touch it.

A dizzying sense of déjà vu assails me. Blurred images of a place fill my psychic vision. I strain so hard in an effort to grab the memory that my head throbs. Recall rubs against the edges of my brain and makes me want to scream in frustration. A growl vibrates in my chest. I jar and the wolf snaps into focus. He is staring at the Shadow, his lips pull back in a snarl.

White light, my inner voice whispers. Now! White light.

I jam my eyes shut and try to envision white light. Darkness surrounds me. I snap my eyes open. The Shadow is closer. The wolf widens its stance and continues to growl.

“God, I can’t see the white light.”

“Sure you can, sweet pea,” Grams’ voice assures me in memory. “Can you see a streetlamp?”

Yes, that I can see.

“Look at that light. That is the essence of protection. Spread the light out from the streetlamp. Let that light surround then fill you.”

I ignore the discomfort of the shoelaces that bind my wrists and open my eyes. I envision the bright white light spreading from the streetlamp to surround me. The wolf growls, low and rumbling. Even if the Shadow leaves, that damn wolf can still kill me. The wolf looks over his shoulder at me, eyes intense. He’s standing between me and the Shadow. He’s protecting me.

What did Professor Cromwell say? Fear and doubt are the enemy. We must trust. Trust a big ass wolf? He returns his attention to the Shadow, lifts his head high, and howls. I tremble. White light floods me just as the wolf stops howling and snaps his powerful jaw at the Shadow.

The Shadow intends to infect the shifter. Then it will eat away at the wolf’s soul until he either kills himself or commits a heinous act that damns his soul to Shadow Hell. I command more white light to surround us. Blinding white light pierces my eyes. I jam my eyes shut. Dammit. I guess I haven’t forgotten how to call white light.

Above the thudding of my heart, the wolf’s snarls fill the air. I reach out with my third eye and locate the animal, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. The Shadow glides around the wolf. The wolf’s fear and anger will ultimately open a door for the Shadow to enter and infect him.