Page 40 of Fallen Angel

Callan looked to Mara, who offered him an encouraging nod. He tore his hands from Raven’s and stepped back. “Who are you to say what is right and what is wrong? What is good and what is bad?”

“Callan, fight against her. Do not let her do this.” Raven’s voice cracked.

Hannah ran her hands through her hair and bit down on her lip in frustration. She circled them, wracking her brain for ways to warn Raven. If Hannah could only be seen and heard, she would tell Raven of the fate she was soon to face. But the leaves and twigs didn’t even crunch beneath Hannah’s feet as she paced. It was no use.

“Mara Eden has not only given me great power, but she has shown us a new manner of magic. If you resist, you shall be left behind to fend for yourself when day permanently becomes night.” The way Callan spoke reminded Hannah of modern-day cults, where members were brainwashed beyond recovery. And then a terrifying thought took over Hannah’s mind: What if this happened again? What if Mara got hold of his mind? Raven was no longer here to bring him back. Hannah needed to keep her from him, no matter what.

“If you do not leave with me now,” Raven said, “your soul shall be lost forever. I do not know if I will be able to help you.” Raven’s eyes searched Callan’s face, as if searching for any sign of humanity or hope. Hannah’s heart ached at Callan’s indifference. Raven placed her hand against his chest, her expression pleading with him through her swelling sorrow. “If you stay, you are going to hurt people.”

Callan lowered his lips to Raven’s ear. “So be it,” he whispered.

Raven stumbled back. She stared at him and tears welled in her eyes. Hannah realized there was nothing else she could do. Callan was lost. Raven ran into the woods, disappearing into the night.

Hannah wanted to follow her, but she learned all she needed to from the memory. She had to ensure Callan never fell victim to Mara’s enchantment again.

Wake up, Hannah.

Hannah spun around and tried to locate the voice. It sounded like Callan, but he stood emotionless by Mara’s side.

You must wake.The voice was urgent, frightened even.

Mara turned and looked directly at Hannah. Her piercing red eyes sent a shock up Hannah’s spine.

Mara smiled insidiously. “I shall be seeing you soon, Ms. Fenwick.”

Chapter Eleven

Hannah jolted awake. The room below-deck was empty. She stood up. No sign of Callan. Hannah’s breathing accelerated when she noticed the mayhem around her. The cabin was scattered with broken chairs, smashed dishes, the capsized table, and large gashes in the couch. A loudthudsounded from above-deck, and Hannah’s heart skipped a beat.Callan.

She raced up the small staircase. The door was already ajar. She pushed it open just enough to peek out.

Callan lay unconscious against the stern. She ran to him and checked his pulse. A massive sense of relief washed over her when she realized that he was still breathing.

The marina was empty. Though the sun had risen, the silence surrounding the dock indicated early morning.

Hannah had no idea how long she was under the memory spell. Her head spun, and part of her feared that when Callan came to, he might be the same Callan she left behind in her memory—dark and cold. Clearly something attacked him while she was exploring her past life, so the present was what she needed to focus on.

Trying to remain as quiet as possible, she hoisted Callan to a seated position. She cupped his face. “It’s your turn to wake up now,” she whispered. The side of his forehead was red from some kind of impact. She shook him gently, but he was out cold. Suddenly, Hannah felt a warm breath on the back of her neck. She paused and fought the urge to whip herself around. A low and crescendoing growl emitted from behind her. She turned, shielding Callan with her body.

Though it took all of Hannah’s strength not to scream in terror, she felt her intestines flip and twist up into her chest. A massive black wolf with bright yellow eyes stared her down. Its lips curled over its sharp teeth and drool dripped down its fangs. Hannah held her breath, afraid that the tiniest flinch would set the beast off.

The wolf stepped closer, and its growl grew louder and more threatening. Hannah knew that staying still wouldn’t work for long.What would Raven do?

The wolf pounced. Instinctively, Hannah rammed her fist into the wolf’s nose, and it stumbled back. She held her hand in her lap, knuckles throbbing, but knew she had to move. Hannah rushed past the wolf and retreated below deck. She hoped it would follow her away from Callan.

She hunted through the rubble of the cabin and located Mara’s grimoire beside the overturned table. She picked it up and held it to her chest as she crouched against the table.

“Use my power,” she chanted under her breath. “Come on, come on.” Hannah could hear the wolf’s paws pound the stairs. The wood creaking beneath its weight. Thankfully, however, her fingertips pulsed upon the spell book’s leather. It took hold of her, just as she had hoped. She breathed in a cool, electric breath, allowing the book’s power to fill her.

Suddenly, she was overcome by the urge to reveal herself to the massive, black wolf. She scooted an inch to the edge of the table.

Beatrice will take good care of me,the book whispered in Hannah’s mind.Hand me over and you will be spared.

Hannah allowed the liquid warmth of the book to course through her veins. She stepped out from behind the table and felt blissful at the idea of giving the book to Beatrice. The wolf crept closer and closer, her shoulder blades rotating beneath her black coat.

Hannah paused. The book wouldn’t wield her. She was the witch. She would wield it. “Senties dolorum,” she commanded.

Beatrice yelped in pain and fell on her side. She flinched, her joints popping. Her snout shortened into a human nose as her fur peeled back to reveal smooth, creamy skin.

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