* * *
“We have much to do to prepare you for the Change,” Malena said to Beth as the five of them sat around the table eating dinner. “You probably won’t be ready when Tilda goes through the process in a few weeks, but certainly next time.”
“Is it supposed to happen at a certain age?” Beth asked.
“Any time after the age of sixteen. Tilda could have done it four years ago—” Malena frowned at her younger sister “—but she enjoyed playing around too much to bother with the requirements for passing the preliminary assessments.”
“What does it matter?” Tilda said with a wave of her hand. “I’m ready now, so let’s not dwell on the past. Or,” she added as she paused with her spoon between her bowl and her mouth “—I could wait until Scarlett is ready and do the Change with her.”
“More delay tactics?” Sorena said.
“Of course not. I just thought it would be fun training with Scarlett.” Tilda grinned at Beth over her bowl.
“We can talk about it more in the next few days,” Malena said. “For now, Scarlett needs to start learning about the energy rituals. We can do one tomorrow night.”
“She won’t need to do those, Malena,” Tilda said. “She can draw the energy herself. That’s what will make her such an incredible witch, remember?”
Malena sighed through her nose. Foreign words rolled from her tongue at lightning speed.
Tilda dismissed her sister’s annoyance with an eye-roll and faced Scarlett. “Malena says that obviously you need to witness the rituals so that you know how other witches draw energy. And, of course, you’ll need to know how to release the energy from your body so it can be stored and used later on.”
“Exactly,” Malena said. “So we’ll do one tomorrow night. What energy are we low on at the moment?”
“Human,” Sorena said between mouthfuls.
Beth coughed as a piece of meat caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. “Did you, uh, say human?”
Sorena looked up. She finished chewing. “Yes. Mostly we use energy derived from magical beings, but there are a select few spells—important ones—that require human energy.”
“Okay, we’ll get hold of a human and perform the ritual tomorrow night,” Malena said. “Scarlett, you can bring the human in. It will be good practice for you. For your siren influence. Actually, bring two men. You can use your own power to remove energy from one, and then observe the ritual to remove energy from the other.”
Hoping she wasn’t misunderstanding Malena, Beth said, “We won’t draw all their energy from them, will we?”
“Of course we will,” Malena answered. “We don’t want to waste any.”
“So you … you want …” Beth put her spoon down. “I’m sorry. We’re going to be killing two men?”
“Yes.”
“But … that’s wrong. We can’t kill people.”
“Why not?” Malena asked.
“Because …” Beth fumbled for the right words. “It’s … just … wrong!”
“According to whom?”
“I don’t know. The guardians? Don’t they have laws about killing people?”
Tilda chuckled. “I think we’ve already established the silliness of whatever laws guardians come up with.”
“Scarlett, dear.” Malena reached across the table and laid a hand on Beth’s sleeve. “Did you have a problem killing the hare?”
Beth paused for a second before lying. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we needed to eat it in order to survive.”
“Exactly,” Malena said with a nod. “Just as we need human energy to survive.”
“We do?” Beth asked, wondering suddenly what fundamentally important spells she’d missed. She shook her head, refusing to be distracted. “But animals and humans are different.”
“Not really,” Sorena said. “They’re both lesser beings.”
Beth looked at Tilda to see if she agreed with this craziness. Tilda gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you to think this way when you’ve grown up among humans. But honestly … they’re on a different level. A lower level. If they have something we need, then we have to take it. It’s an adjustment in mindset, I know, but you’ll soon see what we mean.”
Beth highly doubted that. “What if we take less energy from more humans? That way we get the same amount of energy, but we don’t have to kill anyone.”
At this, Tilda looked upset. “But that would cause them unnecessary confusion and suffering. We don’t want that.”
“Is this going to be a problem, Scarlett?” Malena asked. As she waited for an answer—an answer Beth was too afraid to give—her expression turned kinder. “You need to accept that this is part of who you are, dear. You, more so than any of us, were born for this.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I was born for this, Beth whispered silently to herself. The thought did little to convince her, though. As far as Malena and her family were concerned, Beth had chosen the witch way. She had sat in silence at dinner last night until eventually agreeing out loud that humans might not, after all, be worth the same as magical beings. But her heart believed something entirely different. And now here she was, tasked with bringing in two men, and she still had no idea whether she would go through with it or not—or what her options would be if she chose to disobey Malena.
“Does it matter to you where these men come from?” she’d asked last night, planning to search for a prison full of criminals. Perhaps her guilt would be assuaged if she took the lives of men who didn’t deserve to live in the first place.
“I’ll find you a suitable gathering,” Tilda had assured her, at which Beth had felt her heart sink even further.
The suitable gathering turned out to be a glamorous fund-raising event in some European city where no one spoke English. Not that the language difference mattered since Beth was supposed to be able to get men to fall at her feet without uttering a single word. As darkness fell and the tiniest of snowflakes began to fall, she and Tilda snuck into the city hall with the aid of a back entrance and an unlocking spell. They waited in a side corridor, peering around a marble column at the guests entering the building.
“Why not something a little more discreet?” Beth whispered to Tilda. “I could find a pub down the road, slip in quietly, choose two men, and get them to leave with me. No one will notice.”
“This isn’t about being discreet. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Tilda took Beth’s gloved hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You have no idea, Scar, the kind of power you could wield, and we want to show you that. We want you to fully embrace your siren side so that you can become the powerful woman you were always meant to be.”
The powerful woman I was always meant to be.
The words had an intoxicating ring to them, and Beth couldn’t help admitting to herself that she wished them to be true. If this was her path to becoming everything she was meant to be, then why not embrace it? Why not run headlong toward her destiny instead of shying away from it like a scared little girl? Her gaze fell on the nearest window, on the aged, rippling glass with snowflakes drifting through the air on the other side, and she remembered those children—those humans—pushing her down and pressing her face into the snow until her lungs screamed for breath.
Her decision was made.
“Okay,” she said to Tilda. “I’m ready to do this.”
“Wonderful.” Tilda gave Beth’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be waiting outside with Malena and Sorena. We’ll be ready to begin the ritual as soon as you join us.”
Beth stepped around the pillar and made her way toward the party. Through the wide doorway, she could see them all. The celebrities, the wealthy, the politicians, all chattering, laughing and sipping from their glasses of sparkling golden wine. She fit right in with her glamorous black dress. It was similar in style to the red dress, but longer and with a glittering shimmer running through the fabric. Black satin glo
ves that ended above her elbows completed the outfit. She’d looked in the mirror at home and seen someone else staring back at her. Someone older and confident and fully aware of her power.
Someone named Scarlett.
She wished she felt that assurance now as she stopped at the top of the stairs that led down into the crowded area. Instead, she felt suddenly ridiculous. She was a little girl playing dress-up in a room full of adults, and they would no doubt start laughing the moment they noticed her standing there. She considered turning and running. Running from this party, this life, this—
“No,” she murmured before her feet could catch up with her panicked thoughts. I am not scared and I will not run. I am independent. I am strong. I am powerful. She pushed her shoulders back and breathed in slowly and deeply. She had nothing to be nervous about. She pictured herself the way she had always pictured her mother. She was breathtaking, she was captivating, and men would fall at her feet and worship her before they’d dare make fun of her.
She walked slowly down the stairs, gliding in a way she’d only ever imagined herself doing. She stared straight ahead, the smallest of smiles on her lips, aware of the heads turning her way but refusing to acknowledge them. Let them watch. Let them long for her gaze like dying men longing for water in a desert. She reached the bottom of the stairs and continued her slow prowl through the crowd. She was a predator stalking the herd, searching for exactly the right prey. She could feel their energy, their very essence, thrumming in the air. It called to her, and she wanted it.
I was born for this, her soul whispered to her.
She moved toward the edge of the crowd as people—women, most likely—restarted their conversations with murmurs and awkward laughter. She spotted two older men leaning against one of the many pillars that lined each side of the hall. They gaped at her, their lips parted as though they might have been about to say something before their words completely escaped them. She examined them—their silver hair and the lines that creased their faces—as she stalked slowly past.
You, she whispered in her mind to the two men who’d lived many years already. You want to come with me. Nothing else in your world matters anymore. She tilted her head to the side and gave them an alluring smile. Then she turned and headed for a side door she’d spotted, her hips swaying slightly as she continued her gliding motion. She glanced over her shoulder, and it filled her with exhilaration to see the two men following her, to know that whatever she willed, they would do.
She retrieved the fur-lined cloak and boots she had left beside the back entrance and pulled them on. She lifted the hood over her head, then led the men outside. They followed her through the snow to the outskirts of town where the witch sisters waited in the trees. By the time Beth reached the flickering green fire, the men were shivering and their hair and clothes were flecked with white. She might have expected them to move closer to the fire to warm themselves, but they had eyes for her alone.
“Well done,” Malena said to Beth. She walked forward with a vial in each hand. “Tell them to drink this. They will fall into a slumber and be aware of nothing else.”
Beth handed a vial to each man. She didn’t need to say a word to either of them. She willed them to drink, and so they did. As they swayed on their legs, she and the sisters caught them and lowered them to the ground. Their eyes closed and they lay there, peaceful and still as firelight flickered across their faces.
“It’s time, Scarlett,” Malena said. “You go first. Then we will perform our ritual.”
Beth knelt beside the skinnier man. Doubt nudged at the back of her mind, reminding her that it wasn’t too late. She’d done nothing wrong yet. But that doubt was stamped down by the part of her that wanted to do this, that hungered for the life force she could sense. She removed her gloves and gave them to Tilda. Then she placed a hand on either side of the old man’s face.
It was instant, the flood of energy that streamed from his body into hers. The man twitched in his sleep, as though a subconscious part of his body fought back, but Beth never lost contact with his skin. She felt his pulse weakening and his shudders subsiding, and as the energy resonating through her body intensified to a brilliant, warm glow, the man finally stilled.
“It is done,” Malena said. “His heart beats no more.”
Beth breathed out slowly and pulled her hands back.
I killed someone.
She let the knowledge settle into her being, waiting to feel horrified, sickened, but all feeling was eclipsed by the brilliant rush of power flooding her veins. This wasn’t death. Not even close. This was life and it was hers—every glorious drop of it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Scarlett strode along the tunnels toward her bedroom, aglow with the vibrancy of life still rippling through her body. After demonstrating their own ritual—a process involving an ancient knife and foreign, guttural words—Malena and Sorena had taught Scarlett how to pour the man’s energy into an orb for later use. It left her hands as a stream of gold. Almost liquid, almost smoke, but somehow neither. There had been so much of it, and the excess lingered in her veins, lightening her steps and tinting the world with warmth.
She was nearing her door when footsteps coming toward her made her look up. “Oh, hi,” Thoren said. “How did it go tonight?”
That jolt—the same jolt she used to feel when she first noticed Jack as someone more than just the brother of her best friend—pulsed through her. She could lie to herself as much as she wished, but in the back of her mind, she knew she was attracted to Thoren. His easygoing nature, his patience whenever she encountered something new, his sense of humor. And those eyes … They captivated her in the same way her own siren power captivated others.
“It went well,” she said, smiling and clasping her hands together behind her back. “I’m glad your mother and the others pushed me to do it.”
“So you were okay with it? With ending someone’s life?”
“I …” Her guilt was an invisible layer buried so far beneath the warm glow that she could barely feel it. “I was. I think all I can really say is that … I was born for this. I see that now.” She leaned against her door, her fingers playing absently with the edge of her cloak. “A mountain lion shouldn’t feel bad for killing a deer. The mountain lion was made to do that. And maybe I, in the same way, am made to do this.”
Thoren’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “I couldn’t agree with you more. Tilda must be so happy. She told me last night after you went to bed how scared she was that you might want to leave. I think you’ve ended up being the closest friend she’s ever had, and she was so worried you’d never understand about using human energy.”
Closest friend …
Scarlett’s smile dimmed as she remembered Zoe. Zoe was supposed to be her closest friend. And yet … everything from Scarlett’s old life seemed so dull, so trivial in comparison with the immense power she’d discovered tonight. Zoe, a human, could never possibly understand that.
“So you’re definitely going to go through with the Change?” Thoren asked. “Become a witch?”
She blinked away the disconcerting thoughts of Zoe and said, “I am.”
He nodded, then swallowed and looked away. “Remember when I told you that I don’t want to stay here? That I want to travel and see the world? Well …” He rubbed one hand across the back of his neck, then forced a laugh out. “It feels so awkward to say this out loud. I—I think I would want to stay if … if you were also here.”
Scarlett’s eyes went instantly to his wrist, but his charm was still there. She frowned and pushed away from the door. “Thoren …”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m in complete control of what I’m saying.” He took a step toward her. “Of what I’m feeling.” Another step. “That day in your bedroom, when I almost kissed you while under your influence … After I put the bracelet back on … I still wanted that kiss. And it was me wanting it. The real me, not the powerless version you could command at will.” He stood so
close now that she could feel his breath. “Do you … do you ever feel the same way?” he whispered.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She knew she shouldn’t, but she did, she did feel the same way. His nearness was intoxicating, like a drug she couldn’t remember taking but whose effects were undeniable. She nodded as she reached up with one gloved hand and touched the side of his face. She ran her satin covered thumb over his mouth. His breaths became shallower and his lips parted. And then, without warning, he pulled her to him. She didn’t resist. Their lips pressed together, hungry, desperate. His fingers dug into her back while hers raked through his hair. His body lined every inch of hers. Nothing could get between them. Nothing except—
An image of Jack.
Scarlett pushed Thoren away and took a few unsteady steps backward. “I … I can’t …” But then a thought struck her. “Wait.” Her hand rose slowly and touched her lips. “You’re fine. I touched you, but you’re fine.”
He blinked. “Yes. I am.”
“Do you think … maybe … because I can now control the rest of my magic, I automatically have control over this power too?”
“Maybe. Should … should we test it again?”
Test it again? Did he mean kiss again? She couldn’t do that. She wanted to but she couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Not when she still had Jack and her heart beat shame into her with every thump. But they didn’t have to kiss in order to test this. “Okay,” she said, slowly removing one glove. She stepped closer and held her hand out to him.
Tentatively, Thoren took it, his eyes locked on hers. There was a single moment in which hope rose between them, tangible and warm and wonderful—before Thoren’s eyes widened in fear and his next breath came in a gasp. He ripped his hand from hers and clutched his chest. He tried to brace himself against the wall and ended up sliding against it to the floor.
“No, no, no.” Scarlett tugged her glove back on before dropping to Thoren’s side. Tears ached behind her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise.”