Anya Bast - Witch Blood

Thomas . Oh, Lady, she couldn’t leave him here.

The demon placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to guide her to it. “I’m not leaving without him!” Isabelle shrugged him off, turned, and used every ounce of physical strength she possessed, going completely berserk. Still, he wrestled her kicking, screaming, and biting, as though she were a mosquito, into the circle, and pushed her through the doorway with not even a fare thee well.

Isabelle fell.

“THOMAS!” ISABELLE LUNGED INTO A SITTING POSITIONand immediately doubled over and dry heaved.

“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down, Isabelle.”

Adam’s voice. That had to be Adam’s broad, warm hand on her back, too.

She opened her eyes and saw shoes all around her, the toes pointed in her direction. Isabelle lifted her head, palms and knees biting into the concrete floor, and looked up at the witches who’d apparently been in the warehouse when she’d reentered.

She remembered nothing from the time the demon had pushed her through until she’d dry heaved. Her body seemed to remember, though. She shivered and bitterness crept up the back of her throat, like she had the flu.

“Damn it, Isabelle, you’re scaring me.” Without preamble, Adam scooped her into his arms and lifted her like a doll. Isabelle was too out of it to protest.

Micah’s concerned face entered her view, but she couldn’t focus on it. Nor could she stop shivering. He put his palm to her cheek and grunted. “We need to get her warm and hydrated. I think she’s going into shock.”

“My SUV is outside. Let’s get her back to the Coven. Jack and the others can wait here in case that thing spits Thomas out.” Adam walked toward the door.

Thomas. They still had Thomas!

Isabelle moved, struggling against him. “Wait! I can’t leave. Let me down—”

“All right, all right! Calm down already.” He set her to her feet.

She nearly collapsed and he offered an arm to steady her, which she grabbed on to with both hands. Her teeth chattered as she spoke. “They kept him. They kept Thomas.”

Micah took her by the shoulders and forced her gaze to his. She shuddered and tried to get her eyes to focus. After a moment his face came in clearly. “Who are they , Isabelle? What do you mean?”

She drew a breath and closed her eyes, arranging her jumbled, panicky thoughts. “We were pulled through the doorway, ended up in Boyle’s world, on Eudae. In the morning, the demons found Boyle and killed him, then located us somehow even though we were hidden.” She shook her head. “Maybe Boyle told them where we were as a final fuck you. I don’t know.”

Micah tightened his grip and shook her a little. “Stay focused. The demons found you?”

She nodded. “An Ytrayi demon sent me home, but said they intended to keep Thomas there.”

“ Ytrayi demon?”

Ignoring Micah, she whirled — and nearly fell down — toward the place where the doorway had stood. “Out of my way,” she said as she pushed a couple people aside.

“Isabelle?” Adam asked, right on her heels.

She walked through the area, got down on her hands and knees and felt the floor. No trace of the doorway remained. Thomas was not coming through.

Maybe he was never coming through.

Adam touched her shoulder. “He can take care of himself.” His voice was the gentlest she’d ever heard from him.

She stood, turned into him, and let him wrap his arms around her. “Damn it, Adam. I don’t want to lose him.”

“None of us wants to lose that bastard.”

“We have to open another doorway. We have to go back through and get him.”

He set her at arm’s length apart. “We can’t do that, Isabelle, and you know it.”

A small sob escaped her throat. She knew it. Only an Atrika demon could open a doorway, either that or a powerful, highly knowledgeable witch with the soul of a serial killer. Or maybe the Duskoff could do it. They’d be willing to murder to wedge the doorway open a crack.

She shook her head. No, they could do nothing to get Thomas back.

Thomas’s cousin, Mira, appeared on her right with tears brimming in her eyes. Mira placed her hand on Isabelle’s shoulder and Isabelle finally lost it. She turned into Mira’s arms and allowed the other woman to comfort her.

During the course of the next two hours, many of the witches began to trickle out — heading home or back to the Coven. Finally, only the core remained — Adam, Jack, Micah, Mira, and Theo.

“You need to get back to the Coven, Isabelle. Get some sleep and food,” said Micah. He sat a short distance from her on the cold concrete floor.

She shook her head and pulled the blanket they’d put around her shoulders a little tighter.

Micah sighed. “You can’t stay here all night.”

“Why not?” She continued to stare at the empty space that had been the doorway as if her will alone could bring him back.

“Because you need rest and food,” Mira interjected. “Without these things, you’ll get sick.”

Isabelle glanced at the pregnant air witch. She was beginning to get a lovely baby belly. “ You need to get back, Mira. Not me. I’ll be fine.” She turned her head and speared Jack with a hard stare. “Get her out of here. Get her home and fed. This dank building is the last place she needs to be. While you’re at it, take the rest of these witches with you.”

“We don’t want to leave you alone,” Jack answered.

“Do it anyway. Please .”

Silence.

Isabelle resumed willing Thomas back into this dimension with only the power of her mind.

Finally Micah spoke. “Tell me about that shirt you’re wearing.” His tone was downright covetous and she’d seen the way he’d been staring at it all evening.

“On the other side I used my shirt to wrap Thomas’s wound. Since they found me topless, one of the Ytrayi demons dressed me in this. It’s yours at first opportunity, Micah. I promise you I never want to see it again.” Sorrow sliced through her stomach like a surgical blade.

Micah opened his mouth, but Mira shot him a chilling look from across the room, and he closed it again. Isabelle would’ve bet every cent she possessed that he’d been about to ask more about the Ytrayi demons. She’d tell him all she could…later.

More silence. More staring.

Adam cleared his throat. “Listen. I’ll stay with her. The rest of you can head back.”

“I don’t need anyone to stay with me,” she responded woodenly.

“Please, shut up. You’re not as tough as you pretend to be,” answered Adam. “Now go on the rest of you. We’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

Isabelle barely noticed when the others left. She heard their low conversation, but understood none of it. It reminded her of the time she and Angela lived with Martha Newcomb, one of her mother’s rich friends, for the summer. Martha’s aunt had died that season and her funeral had been like that — low, hushed voices, slow-moving people, long faces.

Adam sat down next to her with a heavy sigh. He drew a random line with his finger on the concrete floor. “We all love him.”

She turned to look at him. “I just found him, you know? The horrible thing is that I thought I was going to have to let him go anyway, but I thought I was the one who was going to die.”

“He’s not dead, Isabelle.”

She chewed her lower lip. “No. You’re right. He’s not dead.” Isabelle stared hard at the empty air in front of her. “And he’s coming back soon. If he doesn’t return on his own, I’ll find a way to break him out.”

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He told them he’d stay willingly if they let me come home.”