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“No.” Her stomach dropped right through the ground. “You need to get away, to—”
“I know what’s at stake. I’ve made my choice. I’m not gonna let you do this alone. So we can either stand here and argue and lose time, or we can go and find that witch and stop her before she completes the spell.”
Anxiety churning in her gut, she stared at him for a moment, then conceded his point with a nod. They didn’t have time to fight about this, even if she’d rather have him miles away and safe than right here, where the spell would kill him if they didn’t succeed.
Her heart in her throat, she said, “Let’s go.”
She grabbed her tool bag from the car, and then they moved down the dirt road at a fast pace.
“This is my best guess,” she said, gesturing ahead. “I can’t pinpoint the location any further, but this here fits the witch’s M.O.”
Tallak eyed the looming buildings of the abandoned stables up ahead and nodded, then jerked his head toward a spot in the dark yard. “There’s a car sitting there, and I can smell lingering fumes.”
Hazel followed his gaze but couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, nor did her nose pick up anything, blunt as her senses were.
Her breath hitched. “Tallak, if we can’t incapacitate the witch before she lays the sigil, if she’s already started… There’s a bit of time. The spell won’t go active right away. The last ward point will need to connect with the others first. The magic needs to sort of run through all of them in turn, completing the circle around the pentagram, and only once the magic connects the fourth to the fifth ward point will the ward go live.”
Tallak sent her a sharp look. “How long?”
“I can’t say for sure. With really small wards, it takes seconds. Medium-sized ones around a house, a few minutes. This here—” She gestured all around her, indicating the sheer magnitude of this ward. “I don’t know, maybe half an hour? Less? It’s hard to say. There’s no precedent for this. But what I mean is, there will be a short window of time after the witch lays the sigil and before the spell goes active, where we can still stop it. We just need to kill her.”
“Obviously.”
Her eyes met his as they kept on hurrying toward the dark buildings. “In a blood sacrifice ritual.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. The spell can only be broken with the same magic used to create it. So if you can grab her, make sure she stays alive so I can kill her the right way.”
“Wait.” He stopped dead in his tracks, grasping her arm to halt her, too. “You’re going to kill her using black magic? Didn’t you say that shit taints you?”
She shifted her weight. “Yes. But it’s the only way. Someone has to do it, and it can’t be you since you’re not a witch.”
“But—”
“I’ve made my choice,” she said, quoting his own words. “I’d rather live with the taint of evil than lose those I love.”
He held her gaze for a moment, his jaw hard, but his eyes…they were full of emotion, the kind that could break or mend one’s heart. Then he nodded, took a deep breath—and stilled. Nostrils flaring, he whipped his head around to the largest building, likely the old riding arena.
“There’s blood on the wind.”
She sucked in a breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “She’s killed already. Come on, we need to hurry.”
They ran.
* * *
Tallak was the first to reach the huge building, his demon eyes easily making out the small door on the side. The smell of blood grew heavier, and other scents now hung in the air as well—incense, sage, candles.
They were on the right track.
At the door, he stopped and listened, waiting for Hazel to catch up with him. Over the sound of her running footsteps, he heard a faint chant from inside the building. He looked at Hazel, gave her a nod, and then carefully eased the door open. With any luck, they could sneak in and take the witch unawares.
As if by some miracle, the hinges didn’t creak. He opened it just wide enough to peek inside and check the space beyond—an anteroom of sorts. Small, empty except for an overturned chair, it was sectioned off from a larger space behind it by a wall that didn’t go all the way up to the high ceiling of the building. There was no door leading to that larger room; instead, the wall just had an opening. Beyond, candlelight flickered in the darkness, but the wall section kept the rest from view.
Slipping into the anteroom, he motioned for Hazel to follow. Quietly, they snuck forward until they reached the opening and could peer around the edge. Power drenched the air, making the hairs on his neck rise.
They looked out over a large, empty arena covered in loosely packed dirt, dips and dents in the earthy floor making it uneven terrain. Several yards away, toward the back wall, loomed a magic circle, prepped with salt, candles, lines drawn in the flattened dirt…and a human body spread-eagle in the middle, slashed open, its blood soaking into the earth. Behind the circle stood a blonde witch, facing the wall, her arms moving—painting a sigil.
