Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

39

           
It was hours later when I heard the door handle twist again. This time I didn't want to chase whoever was there away. I was going to have to play along if I wanted to escape, and I knew just what they wanted.

A damsel in distress.

Energy pulsed through my veins, telling me how wrong that was. I wanted to fight. The idea of submitting repulsed me, but I couldn't scare them away again.

My stomach grumbled and cramped, I hadn't eaten in hours. I had to get out.

My mind travelled back to earlier in the day. Thomas had tried to trap me, forcing me onto the bed in my apartment.

That was it.

An easy target, that's what I wanted to look like.

Scooting back to the headboard, I rubbed my eyes. That and the painful light from earlier should be enough to give me a red-eyed snivelling look. Tipping my head over, I mussed my hair so that it fell over my face. The throb of the head wound reminding me too late to take care. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms round them.

I rocked back and forth, and then stopped myself. That was too much, I couldn't risk overdoing it.

Peeking out from behind my stringy curls, red-eyed and pale, my life-force buzzed and hummed, the quiet chimes of silver leaves tinkling like laughter at my subterfuge.

This energy, magic, whatever it was inside me. It approved of the game. Snaring my captor like prey was not submitting. Anticipation fizzled through my veins, warming and energizing me as I waited.

It was almost enough to make me forget that I didn't exactly know how to channel all this energy.

Yes, I had power. Of that there was no doubt. It filled my senses, daring me to taste it, to let it flow through me, to let it connect with my enemy.

But there wasn't a manual. I'd thought that's what the family grimoire would be, until the damn thing had knocked me out. Could I risk it, when I could sense darkness within me and I felt the magic's greed seep through my veins until it was my own?

The door cracked a sliver.

"Alice," a familiar voice said softly. "It's me."

Relief flooded through me at the sound of a friendly voice. Evan's messy blond hair came into view as he cautiously pushed the door the rest of the way.

Hands in scruffy jeans pockets, shoulders broad and relaxed, Evan rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Which were bare.

What the hell? What about the glass?

He tucked his hair behind his ear, his smile growing wider as he took in my cowed posture. Nausea rolled round my stomach, the bitter taste of bile burning the back of my throat. I swallowed it down.

Heat rushed to my face as I struggled to control my anger.

Another man fooling me. I vowed that he would be the last one that ever did.

"Evan, thank God, let's get out of here," I squeaked, letting out a hiccupping sob. Evan's smile broadened as he started towards the bed.

Bastard.

As he neared I saw it. The difference was subtle but his blue life-force was infused with tiny drops of silver. They buzzed around joining together like atoms bonding.

As I watched, more and more drops like pin pricks emerged on the surface of Evan's skin. Tiny beads of silver sweat exuded to fill his life-force. An intricate web formed as the particles connected and attracted the new drops.

Soon his blue life-force would be consumed by the web of silver.

It was beautiful.

Evan cleared his throat, dragging my attention away from the magic and back to the man.

"What's happened to you?" I asked, voice breathy and deep, my browbeaten character forgotten in the wonder of the patterns evolving before my eyes.

"Nothing, what do you mean?"

No-one but Anne knew that I could see life-force. If I wasn't careful I was going to lose my advantage. Ducking my head back down, I closed my eyes to hide the excitement that I knew shone there.

Tremble in my voice, I tried again.

"Where are we, I passed out and woke in this room?"

Evan didn't respond.

After a moment, I looked up. His smile contorted into a mean smirk, his eyes dull and hard. I recoiled, my horror real.

"What, no hello hug? A kiss maybe?" He sneered. "There'll be plenty of time for that, don't you worry. Unfortunately, there are other matters to attend to. Come on".

Evan grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, hard. Pivoting on the bed, my dress tangled around my limbs, preventing me from righting myself. Clothes like these were not designed for action.

A muscular arm wound around me as I tried to regain my balance, drawing my back tight against his hard chest. His familiar scent flooded my senses, the memory of us together in the priory rushed forward.

Disgusted by his betrayal, I kicked out. His grip tightened the more I struggled.

"Maybe we do have a few minutes before we need to go."

Evan's voice was low and scratchy. Twisting my head, blazing eyes met mine. I could feel him hard against my lower back.

All control over my emotions fled as I realised what he intended. Arms and legs flailing wildly, I tried to loosen his hold.

My resistance only excited him more.

Flipping me round, so that we were facing one-another, his arm pinned mine to my sides. He grasped my hair tightly in his fist and pulled my head back. All thought fled, chased out by the shock and pain. I couldn't stop him as he brought my face to his and kissed me.

Before, Evan had been gentle, but now he was rough and desperate. I didn't respond to his kiss, but he forced my lips open, pushing his tongue into my mouth.

I bit down hard. Blood pooled into my mouth.

Evan screamed.

I scrambled away from him as quickly as possible in my stupidly impractical outfit. Eyes sparking with fury, he lunged at me, slapping me hard across the face with the back of his hand. I fell backwards onto the bed. Blood welled into my mouth from a split lip, mingling with his, making me wretch violently.

"You'll pay for that," Evan spat.

His body was tense; his face set in grim determination. I scrabbled to get off the bed, but I wasn't fast enough. He was on me in a second. Evan's body was hard and heavy, trapping me beneath him. His hot breath was laboured and choppy.

Twisting my face away, I tried to create some distance. Evan moved his hand until it reached my breast. He squeezed hard as punishment. I stifled the cry that rose in my throat.

Kicking my legs, I angled away, but Evan shifted so that his legs pinned my own. He looked down at me.

"You're mine now," he rasped, face contorted by the base emotions that were driving him.

My long skirt had risen up my thighs in the struggle. Evan ran his hand down my body until he reached the hem. His eyes never left mine as his hand squeezed and kneaded the flesh of my thigh.

I was trapped.