Page 89 of Obsession

Eventually, I become coherent enough to realize my hands and feet are bound by rope. Seriously, this is becoming ridiculous!

A bright light flickers on, and it takes my eyes a second to adjust. Lucy’s standing before me holding a lantern. “Aubry, thank you for coming. I had to really work to penetrate your dreams. Kudos on the protective magic job.”

I’m surrounded by an elaborate circle with symbols I can’t read. I try to summon Damion using his demonic name, but I can’t form the words. Whatever magic she’s employing is blocking my call. I try sending him a mental message, but it’s no use—we’re too far away from each other.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“My love back.”

What’s with these women and their love obsession? “Let me guess. Augustus. How does he have anything to do with me?”

“Your slut of a mama took what’s mine!” she thunders. “Augustus was meant to be with me, the high priestess!”

“So Cora and Augustus were lovers?” If I’m half angel, that means I can teleport. Closing my eyes and concentrating, I envision myself back in my room. Nothing happens, other than my head’s hurting more now than it was before this nut job hit me.

“Your mama thought she was sneaky, but I was watching her. I knew Augustus refused my high priestess union because Cora already had her claws in him. She was a problem I had to eliminate, but she was tricky. All my spells bounced back. So I had to get creative—a hybrid mind control/love spell on that simpleton Bettina. I sent her to have sex with Augustus in Cora’s bed,” she says proudly.

“That's really fucked up.” I’m not in a position to be indignant, but come on!

“My plan worked, but then Cora took off without a trace before she could release Augustus from her magical thrall,” she hisses.

“Look, it sounds like the coven was a really toxic situation for everyone.” An understatement. “But this has nothing to do with me. Please let me go, and I’ll forget all about this," I fib.

“Cora did an excellent job cloaking you two,” she continues, ignoring me as she begins to set up an altar with a skull, a chalice, and a very sharp-looking dagger. “I didn’t even know she was dead until I caught a little trespasser in my spirit trap.”

She carefully unwraps a set of skeletal remains and places them beside an amber bottle. “What are you doing?” Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

“Delilah,” she nods to the bones.

“Why do you have your friend’s remains?” I demand.

“Your mother’s spirit,” she points to the bottle. That explains my recurring dream of being stuck in a small space—Mama was trying to reach out to me, telling me she was trapped by Lucy! “And now, Aubry, you’re here. Everything has fallen into place beautifully. It’s funny—I didn’t know you existed until recently, when a demon told me about a young witch with a Cambion lover.”

“What demon?” Call me petty, but I plan on letting Damion know all about this little demon snitch. Just as soon as I get out of here. I try Damion’s demonic name one more time, but nothing happens.

“I watched you patiently, not wanting to rush my move,” she continues. “I tried to get you to join my coven. That would have been the easy way for you to warm to my control.”

“You’ve worked a mind control spell on your members, haven’t you?” That’s why they all had nothing but positive things to say about Lucy.

“Jade was the only member who didn’t fall completely under my control. That’s why I had no problem with her moving to New Orleans. The others gladly make a generous financial offering each month to their high priestess.”

“Magically manipulating your coven is disgusting!”

“Weakness is disgusting,” she says with a deranged smile.

“Why did you really send me the necklace? To do your dirty work with Bettina?”

“You’re the one who went and got Bettina involved!” she hisses. “I’ve been having to fend off her pathetic magical attacks against me now because of it. She’s like a pesky gnat—a harmless nuisance, but still a nuisance.”

She steps out of the barn and returns a moment later carrying a wire cage housing a chicken. It’s squawking something awful as she pulls it out of the cage. I know this spell—it’s the necromancy spell from Mama’s book of shadows. “Stop!” I scream, but Lucy ignores me, holding the chicken up with both hands over her head, bringing it down and slitting the poor thing’s throat. Blood rains down, covering the altar.

Lucy begins to chant, and I frantically think of a way to stop this madness. I focus my mind on sending a message to B.B. I envision our minds interlinked, our spirits entwined. B.B., tell Grandma and Aunt Callie I’m in trouble. Send Damion and Chris to 300 Blackbird Lane. I’m being held prisoner in the barn by Lucy. Hurry!

B.B. will just have to figure out a way to tell them the details. My familiar’s a smart cat. She’ll think of something.

Lucy’s still chanting as the bones begin to glow. The energy shifts, and this is what I imagine death feels like; it’s dark, dense energy. Suddenly, there’s a flash of light and smoke, and a hooded pale figure appears in the circle. “Aubry, my baby girl, I’m so sorry,” the figure says with a voice that sounds eerily similar to mine.

“Mama?”

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