Page 114 of Enspelled

“Come on, Briar.” Keane pulls at her again.

Bodie takes my arm, and we continue into the forest, all of us glancing behind us, conscious that Abigail sacrificed herself for us to get away.

35

BRIAR

When the electric current of magic behind us fades, I know what that means.

Abigail is dead.

Aunt Mel stole my power and used it to kill the only other person who meant anything to me—my godmother.

A tear slides down my face. But with the grimoire clasped against my chest, as Keane propels me along, I don’t have a free hand to wipe it away.

I feel Keane’s gaze move over me, but he doesn’t comment on my tears and he doesn’t slow. Where he plans on us going, I have no idea, and we never find out, because as we near the next tree, a female voice rings out.

“Stop. Now.”

Aunt Mel.

Although her voice isn’t right behind us, that doesn’t mean we’re safe. Keane doesn’t seem to think that way because he continues at the same pace.

Until the tree just ahead explodes, raining bark all over us.

Only then does Keane stop, and I stop with him, my thighs burning with exertion as I struggle to catch my breath. As I turn, I catch Sera’s eye. Just as Keane has a hold of my arm, Bodie is gripping hers. If our situation wasn’t as desperate as it is now, I’d wonder what’s going on between them.

But then my eyes meet Aunt Mel’s, and I stop thinking about Bodie and Sera.

I swallow hard. “You killed Abigail.” My voice is stronger than I thought it would be with the fear creeping through me.

Aunt Mel shrugs as she prowls closer, dressed in a baggy pair of jeans and a hoodie. Just like Sera.

Was she pretending to be Sera for her to be dressed that way?

“If she hadn’t taken what was mine, she might have lived.” Aunt Mel’s voice is too cold for me to believe her.

“You killed all the witches and wolves in town, and now you want me to believe you’d have let Abigail live? No, I don’t think you would have,” I say, watching her closely for her reaction.

But there’s none.

I don’t remember there not being a smile on her face. Without it, it’s like I’m looking at a stranger, cold, hard, and emotionless.

“Perhaps not,” she admits, stopping a few feet away. “Now, you have something that belongs to me. I want it back.”

Instinctively, my arms tighten around the grimoire, the last thing I have left of my parents. Maybe I wouldn’t be so desperate to keep hold of it if I hadn’t found the message Dad left for me, but now it means more to me than almost anything in the world. “No. Dad wanted me to have this.”

Her eyes narrow, and Keane’s grip on me tightens a second before I know he’s going to pull me behind him. But before he can, I step forward because this is between me and Aunt Mel.

“Then keep it.” Aunt Mel’s voice is mild, unconcerned, but it has alarm bells shooting through me the second before she speaks. “But it will cost you. So, who are you willing to sacrifice for it?”

All the blood drains from my face, and I struggle to speak.

Her gaze sweeps over Keane, Sera, and Bodie. “The wolf who seems to have formed an attachment to you, the best friend, or the drifter wolf?”

My mouth goes dry as I shake my head. “Aunt Mel, why are you doing this? How can you be this cold?”

Her focus returns to me. “You’ve seen what this town is. You’ve suffered firsthand from the Callas, and you’re asking me how I can be like this?Theymade me this way.”

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