Page 151 of Castings & Curses

Sammy leaned in close. “Don’t fight it,” he murmured. “It’s a warlock hazing ritual. You’ll be fine.”

Silent, his captors wrenched his arms behind his back and tied his wrists in another air band. Rafael struggled against the arms shuttling him forward. He wasn’t fine. Sage didn’t tip him off to any hazing ritual. On the verge of hyperventilating, he forced himself to concentrate on just filling his lungs with air. A foster brother once tried to smother him with a pillow in his sleep, and this act felt identical. Ever since the incident, he’d loathed having his head and mouth covered. Feared never coming out alive. Kicking and trying to shout through his gag, he fought off his captors.

Knocking him around with quiet deliberation, they shoved him onto the carpeted floor in the rear of an SUV or van. A warlock slipped his hand in Rafael’s back pockets and nicked his phone and wallet.

Another warlock clambered beside him, and the engine rumbled to life. He checked his breathing, tried to deal with the red-hot pokers stabbing his middle, spearing through his untapped magic. Too bad his magic remained dormant, or he’d blast these assholes to the North Pole with a one-way ticket.

“Dude. Take it easy,” Sammy said in a low voice. “It’ll be over soon.”

The cargo hold smelled fresh, as though used for transporting people, not gym bags or pets. Or dead bodies. It gave him a skosh of hope. A few moments later, Rafael’s heartbeat steadied and his breathing leveled out. He railed at his so-called friend behind the hood and gag, to no avail. Rafael had to ride it out and conserve his strength for the right moment. Evil permeated this bullshit act, and he didn’t believe for a second it was a hazing. He lay on his side to keep from leaning on his hands and risk them falling asleep. Once the bastards untied his wrists, he wanted full use because he was raring to bash some heads.

He’d met Sammy three months ago through one of his roommates, and they’d become fast friends. Yesterday, when they’d passed through the Helwig covenstead's gates, the sound of metal squeaking against metal had echoed in Rafael's ears, but didn’t suppress Sammy’s words when he’d unloaded his shocking warlock status. Sammy’s head was first on the chopping block.

They drove for about twenty minutes when the screech of wrought-iron gates sliding open confirmed his theory. The Helwig covenstead.I knew that bitch is calling the shots.

Sage had given him an earful about the animosity between the two covens throughout the decades. Rafael had sensed evil in Zelda from the jump, and didn’t care for her attempts to dominate him, a far cry from Sage’s warm and open acceptance. He wanted nothing to do with the Helwigs on principle alone.

The vehicle engine shut off. The doors opened and slammed shut, rocking the vehicle and knocking his head against the back seats.

“Don’t fight the process, dude,” Sammy said again under his breath as if he didn’t want the other warlocks to hear.

It took everything in Rafael to ignore his backstabbing friend when he wanted to blast him a new one. No sense in engaging him again. He was toast on the friendship front.

The rear doors opened, hands gripped his ankles and dragged him out of the cargo. He wanted to fight tooth and nail, but again resisted. They weren’t trying to hurt him, and puzzlement battled the anger in his head. The feeling that Zelda wanted to remove him from the warlock lottery for her own selfish purposes refused to subside inside his churning stomach.

Several dudes—he assumed warlocks—guided him inside a building. He swore if this went assbackwards, he’d go full medieval on whoever was involved. They steered him down a staircase and through a doorway.

Someone killed the spell on his air muzzle and plucked the hood off. “What the hell is going on?” He glared at the warlocks, three he recognized from the Helwig crowd. No Sammy in sight. The small, windowless room built from cinderblock with a bare cement floor mirrored a jail cell.

“We have orders to hold you until Ms. Helwig returns.” The leader dangled the hood from his hand. The other two took up defensive stances, legs spread and arms crossed over their chests, barring the door.

“This isn’t a warlock hazing. It’s a fucking abduction.” Rafael’s untapped magic boiled fiery bubbles in his gut, rising and popping like a severe case of indigestion.

The two wingmen laughed. “Good one,” Tall, Blond, and Skinny squeaked out. “We don’t haze warlocks.” He cracked his knuckles as if gearing up for a fight. “We might make an exception for you, though.”

“No,” Leader Dude said. “Zelda said to make him comfortable. This is all the comfort you get.” He grabbed Rafael roughly, and with one swift motion, released the spell on his shackles. Blood gushed to his stinging wrists. The warlocks backed out of the small dank room, locking Rafael inside.

He rubbed his wrists, flexed his taut arms and searched the room for a weapon or a way out. A twin bed, a sink, and toilet behind a curtain comprised the cell. At least they’d given him toilet privacy, more than most prisons. He whacked the curtain, almost pulling it from the rods dangling from the ceiling.

“Son of a bitch.” Rafael pounded on the steel door. After working out his frustrations on the door, he paced the tiny room, his fists curling and uncurling at his sides. Would Sage search for him? Had he made a big enough impression on her for a future together in any way, shape, or form? Or would she cut and run and find another warlock to bond? Did he even want to join the witchworld and learn about himself in exchange for being treated like a tool? His mind churned with what-ifs.

At least an hour rolled by before he heard keys jangling and scraping the door. The lock clicked, and the door opened. Zelda Helwig parked it on the threshold, toting a wicked smile that truly personified a witch hag, absent her decrepit broomstick and nasty flying monkeys.

He sprang up from his perch on the thin mattress atop a crap-ass daybed and gave Zelda the hairy eyeball. “You can’t hold me here. It’s called kidnapping.” Warlocks behind her blew gale force winds around her that shoved him backward onto the bed. It stole his breath for a few seconds until he blocked the air from hitting his face.

“It rather appears that Iamholding you here.” Her smile didn’t budge.

“What do you want from me?”

“You came to me, if I recall.” She swished her arms up. “I’m giving you the world you’ve craved.”

A headache brewed behind his eyes. “I’m good. I’ve changed my mind.” Lies rolled to the surface. If he wanted to learn anything more, he’d learn it from Sage. “Let me leave now.”

“No takebacks. Time to play this out. You contain huge amounts of untapped power, and I can unleash it. Then you’ll beg to remain at my side.”

Air in the room became murky over Zelda as she shrouded herself in a bubble. A strange smell wafted from the air vent in the ceiling, permeating the room. Acidic on one hand, sweet and tangy on the other. Cupping his palm over his nose, dizziness overcame him. He faltered and his butt hit the top of the mattress.

“What are you doing to me?” he slurred, every muscle and bone in his body floating on air.

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