Anya Bast - Witch Fury

Stefan had lost control of the daaeman magick, but that only meant the ball was shooting off randomly. It was almost as bad as having Stefan direct the thing. The only positive was that now the warlocks were being hit, too.

Fighting the crowd that was working its way to the back of the foyer and the corridors leading away from it, Theo pushed his way forward toward Stefan. If he knew Sarafina, she would have gone for the source of the problem rather than running from it.

Theo came upon Isabelle kneeling in the water with Micah half in her lap, her wet hair sticking to her face. Theo went down on his knees beside Micah. “Are you hit?” “His magick is gone,” said Isabelle. “Completely gone.” “Oh, fuck.”

Soaked, Micah looked up at him with haunted, blank eyes. “Find me a sword,” he ground out. Rage transformed his face, made his expression tight. “Theo, find me a sword!” he repeated, louder his time.

There was a brutal cast to the scholar’s face that Theo had never seen on him before. It was an expression he was more used to seeing reflected in the mirror.

Right now, Theo could deny Micah nothing. He’d find the man a sword.

Theo glanced toward the corridor leading off to the opposite side of the stairway. An Atrika blocked the end of the hallway, but he could get into the room. There might, with luck, be some weapons in there.

“I’ll be right back,” Theo said and rose, sloshing through the water and picking his way past fallen witches to make it there, keeping an eye out for stray bolts of the blue demon magick.

After breaking the locked door down, he found only three swords within and managed to get them back through the crowd without the Atrika noticing. He gave one to Isabelle and one to Micah. Micah caressed the hilt with a finger, looking nothing like the happy-go-lucky geek Theo knew. Micah wanted to spill blood and Theo hoped he’d get his chance.

“You see Sarafina anywhere?” he asked Isabelle. Everyone had to shout over the din of battle, grieving, screaming, and rushing water.

“She was here, Theo, but then she took off like the devil was chasing her.” She pointed toward the back of the foyer, at the other corridor.

Maybe not the devil, but Theo was guessing it was somebody just as bad.

Theo melted back into the crowd in the direction Isabelle had pointed in. He had to find her.

SARAFINA EDGED HER WAY DOWN THE CORRIDOR. This part of the Coven was dry, at least. All the water was being directed to the front part of the building.

Some of the Coven witches had also managed to make their way past and were convening, trying to devise a way to mount an effective attack against Stefan and the invading Atrika from the opposite direction.

She was just trying to get away from Bai.

Her best bet was to get out of the Coven completely and keep moving. Having lost Theo in the foyer, she knew she was alone now. Against Bai that made her chances slim to none.

On the lower floor of the Coven, she turned a corner and headed toward the Conservatory, past the doors of the ballroom. There was an exit leading out onto the sprawling lawn from the back of the Conservatory if her memory served her. After her narrow escape from Bai down this very corridor, she’d memorized every part of the building so she’d never get trapped again.

Stefan’s hand clamped over her mouth and he dragged her kicking back into the recessed doorway of the ballroom. God, she hated this room! She bit his hand, tasted blood, and he released her.

How the hell had the bastard traveled from the foyer to this part of the Coven so fast? Her blood went cold as she realized there was only one way.

There was an Atrika here, too.

Sarafina spun, raising power, but a big, black-haired, dark-skinned Atrika simply snuffed out the fire before it could reach him.

“Are you always going to need someone to fight your battles for you, Stefan?” She clucked her tongue. “So sad.” He gave a loose shrug of one shoulder. Such a French gesture. “They’re useful. I don’t disregard the tools at my disposal.” Sarafina shifted her gaze to the dark-skinned Atrika . “So you’re a tool, huh?” The lips of the daaeman curled back in a thin growl. “I thought the Atrika breed had more pride.” The Atrika turned his attention to Stefan, his eyes flashing red.

Stefan gave an unsure sidelong glance at his demon-on-a-leash, looking like he wondered if the Atrika might break his chain.

Sarafina raised a brow. “Worried, Stefan? You should be. I wonder what the Atrika will do to you once you give them whatever leverage it is you’re using. It’s the elium, right?” Stefan turned his attention back to her. “Don’t make me shut you up.” Every word was a lash of a whip.

Oh, looked like she’d hit a nerve.

Stefan glanced at the Atrika . “Go back to the foyer. I don’t need you here. I can handle a witch like her with one hand tied behind my back.” The Atrika jumped away, leaving them alone.

Stefan stepped out into the corridor. “So many women of the Coven have offended me, Sarafina. Mira killed my father. Isabelle tried to kill me . Yet out of all of them, I think I’m most affronted by you. You’re the only one who never had a good reason for wronging me. Mira and Isabelle both had personal debts to settle, but you. . you’re just a flat-out bitch.” He took another step toward her. Sarafina’s stomach clenched, but she stood her ground. “You kidnapped me, Stefan. That’s pretty personal.” Sarafina pulled a thread of fire and held a small line of white-hot flame in her hand. It was useless, but it made her feel better.

Stefan glanced at the fire. “You’ve learned so much in such a short time. You’re wasted here.” She channeled fire into the palms of her hands and stood on the balls of her feet, ready to move. He circled her, an odd expression of pleasure on his face.

Sarafina tilted her head to the side and smiled a little, batting her lashes. “So does that mean you’ll take me back?” “No, my petal, you’re not mine to claim anymore.” The world went perfectly silent and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Sarafina’s skin prickled at the sudden flush of presence in the corridor. She knew the press of that particular existence in the air around her, on her soul. Pressing, taking. .

It was Bai.

“You will come with me now.” Bai’s voice was deep and even. He sounded satisfied, happy. Sarafina supposed he had no reason to feel otherwise. Apparently, the bad guys were winning and Bai had what he wanted. That would be her .

Slowly, she turned toward him. All six and a half feet of her future children’s father filled up the corridor behind her. The fire in her palms died.

Behind Bai, Sarafina saw Theo turn the corner and freeze. Their eyes met and held past the daaeman blocking the pathway between them.

“Sarafina.” Theo growled her name and then shouted it again as he began to run toward her. Power gathered in an arc from here to there.

The Atrika was about ten feet away. He disappeared and Sarafina ran toward Theo, her feet pounding madly on the carpet of the corridor. She knew what was coming next. It gathered like the doom of Armageddon at the back of her throat and behind her teeth — bitter fear of the inevitable.

Bai jumped in right in front of her. She screamed in terror. He reached out and touched her and she was gone, obliterated in every way that mattered.

GONE. SARAFINA WAS GONE.

Theo stood in the center of the corridor, seeing his worst nightmare come true. Bai had disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared with Sarafina. Theo had been too far away to stop it.