Page 48 of Blood

THE WITCH IS BACK, Hux hollers in my mind. Images barrage me of Hux repeatedly stabbing a faceless, nameless monster in the heart.

I grab a second finger and press it to the scanner.

“Authorization denied.”

I won’t let you keep me from my precious treasure! Hux roars.

I do the same with the third, fourth, and fifth fingers, ignoring Hux’s incessant bellowing in my head. By the time I reach the sixth finger on the keychain of limbs, the light above the door flashes green, and the doors slide open.

The witch knew better than to mess with me, Hux growls. She knows to fear me.

Yes, I respond dryly. She’s quivering in her shoes.

As she should be.

I’ve just taken my first step outside—where the ground resembles that of a fluffy cloud, and a pearlescent bridge spreads as far as the eye can see—when pain cuts through me.

Unspeakable, unexplainable, indescribable pain.

I gasp and clutch at my chest. It feels as if my soul is being funneled out of my body, as if my heart is being tossed into a meat grinder, as if my limbs are being tugged in every direction. A startled cry catches in my throat as I attempt to inhale around the daggers in my throat.

Pain.

So much pain.

Violet.

My connection to her—that silver cord that always shines brightly, no matter where we are or what we’re doing—begins to fade. I watch in dawning horror as it flickers once, twice, three times before turning to a dull, monotone shade of gray.

“No,” I breathe as my lungs constrict and fear like I’ve never felt before captures me in a chokehold.

Violet! Hux roars, battling against me, attempting to regain control.

What the fuck is going on? I demand. It’s not often I swear, but I can’t focus on anything but the fear and agony coursing through me.

Where’s Violet?

Is she okay?

“We need to go to her. Now.”

Surprisingly, that dogmatic, succinct voice doesn’t come from my brother. I turn, my body abnormally cold, to see Dimitri Gray stalking toward us like an avenging angel hell-bent on death and destruction. Sweat drips down his cheeks, and his blond hair hangs in ragged clumps around his face. I eye the rune still etched into his skin, but it no longer seems as vibrant as before. Obviously, Balor did to Dimitri whatever he did to me and Hux to rid us of the rune’s power, despite its continuous presence on our flesh.

“You felt that too?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sluicing of blood in my ears.

Dimitri doesn’t bother to dignify my question with a response. Instead, he turns toward the nearest window and places his hand to the surface. I watch in numb shock as the glass becomes intangible and begins to swirl in a vortex of color—vibrant red, aspen yellow, and burnt orange.

Our headmaster doesn’t even wait for us to follow as he steps through the portal, disappearing from view.

Go! Go! Go! Hux screams at me, but I don’t need him to tell me twice. If this portal has even a snowball’s chance in heck to bring me to Violet, then I’ll step through it willingly. I don’t even care if I have to travel through the nine layers of Hell or fight off a thousand angry, snarling beasts. I’ll do anything—absolutely anything—to return to my mate.

My world.

Almost as soon as I step into the portal, a cloying odor bites into my esophagus. It takes me a solid two seconds to pinpoint that smell—sulfur.

Is Violet in Hell?

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed through a glass straw as I force myself to move through the swirl of bright colors, needing to get to her, to see her, to hold her.

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