Wicked Hunt

Chapter Fifteen, Part V

Victoria: A Gathering Of Witches

Wind tore through the air, knocking Victoria too her knees with its power. She heard glass shattering, felt the shards flying past her face and dig into her cheeks. Her hair flew around her face like a whip, wrapping around her neck and trying to choke her. The orbs and the stag vanished, desperately making her want to open eyes. But she couldn't. Not unto the spell was complete.

The smell of blood intensified, but Victoria tried not to panic too much. Blood was often the price to pay for any type of magic. It wasn't until she felt the wet dribble down her chin that she realized that the blood was coming from her. Victoria went to raise her hand up to wipe it away, but her fingers were squeezed tightly by Faraday. They couldn't break the connection. Even as the wind tore at her face, spreading the blood up her cheeks and even onto her forehead, she did not try to free her hand again.

There was a shrill scream that had her ears ringing. Then, the wind abruptly stopped. Victoria remained crouched down until she was slowly tugged to her feet. Carefully, her eyes were peeled open.

Destruction was everywhere before her. Every single window was shattered, pieces of glass cut into the chairs and even the walls. Blood was splattered along the empty panes as if something had been dragged across the wood and flung out into the night. The herbs were scorched, as if they had been on fire, but no smoke lingered. From in between the charred plants, Victoria could see the leather of the Grimoire, the blackness completely gone. Her eyes darted up, and she saw Jamal Denizen lying on the ground by the pile, his staff next to him. She rushed over to his side and knelt beside him.

"Jamal." She shook him violently, but he did not stir. "Mother!" Her eyes roamed the room until they landed on Gemma, leaning heavily against the wall. She scrambled to her feet and ran to Gemma. She let her mother lean into her arms.

"The darkness..." Her mother coughed. "I no longer... feel... its pull."

Victoria patted Gemma's head and glanced back toward Jamal lying on the ground. "Jamal is dead."

"No," Faraday announced as she bent to her brother's side. "Jamal lives."

Victoria blinked and released her mother. The movement was too quick, and she stumbled, her head spinning. Stumbling forward, she made loud scraped across the floor, rousing the barely lucid Jamal. His bleary eyes opened, and when Victoria saw the pupils, she let out a hoarse shriek. Red. The color of blood stared back at her. His eyes. The eyes of the stag. Then, Jamal blinked in alarm, his pupils returning to their amber shade. Victoria nearly blacked out then, fear closing her throat too tightly.

"I've sent him on the wind," Jamal croaked. "Back to the Shadow Wood."

As if on cue, thunder rumbled across the land and a thick sheet of rain slanted in through the obliterated windows. Water ran down the wall, settling into puddles around the group.

"What does this mean?" Faraday asked her brother hesitantly. She looked around wildly until she found her son. She gestured for Ronan to come forward. The younger lad shuffled to his mother's side.

"It means," Jamal struggled to a sitting position, "that we need to find the wolf."

Perry Gritt's face swam up in Victoria's mind, a sly smirk dancing across his lips. He winked at her before she cast him out.

"I no longer feel the shadows in this place," Leona Streamling said as she splashed through the water standing in the floor. Her luscious hair was pinned to her face, pelted by the frigid rain She had wrapped an arm around one of her daughters. The girl's wet head was bent as if in pain, and Victoria was unable to identify her.

"Our strength has been taken," Jamal observed keenly. He leaned put his had back, allowing the water to wash over his hair. "We must rest and recover."

"We have rooms available now," Gemma remarked from her position against the wall. "The second story is ready to be used."

"Tomorrow," Victoria told them, her eyes cautiously flicking back to Jamal's to make sure they were still yellow, "I tell you of what I've dreamed of."

Through the rain, she saw Faraday's face scrunch up in confusion. "You've dreamt of the black stag?"

"Not exactly."

"Tomorrow," Jamal interrupted.

"Tomorrow," Victoria agree, a prickling sensation slithering down her spine as Faraday's expression turned suspicious.

If I make it through the night.