Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

With a shriek of unchecked ire, Marita sent an animalistic stream of fire rushing at her sister, its body hissing and diving in attack. Marion easily deflected it with a mere swipe of her hand. “Is that all?”

Marita’s retort was a wall of fire that encircled her sister from head to foot. Heart pounding, skin hot from the roaring flames, Caia envisioned a waterfall that appeared over Marion’s head, obliterating the flames. Unfortunately, it doused Marion as well, and she threw Caia a bemused look, a look they shared in just enough time for Marita to use magik to suspend Jae in the air. When Jaeden screamed, Caia couldn’t work out why, until she realized Marita was scoring burn marks into her with invisible flames.

An untold fury took possession of Caia, refusing to let Jae experience one more second of torture after having survived it at the hands of Caia’s uncle, Ethan. She thrust out her hands and a tidal wave the likes of which she’d never conjured before towered over Marita like a python readying to strike. Caia gave a jerk of her head, parting a curtain in the wave so as it descended toward Marita, it bypassed Jaeden. A yell was muffled into a gurgle as the wave crashed to the ground, whooshing across the grass and taking a bedraggled and spluttering Marita with it. Her magik let go of Jaeden, and the lykan tumbled to the ground.

“My goddess, Caia,” Marion’s voice broke through and she looked up to see the magik smiling at her in wonder. “That was very cool.”

Brace yourself, because there’s going to be more! she thought as she strode toward Marita, who was pulling herself out of the water with a stream of curses. She straightened in time to see Caia heading determinedly for her, and her eyes widened.

Then they narrowed in hatred before she disappeared altogether.

“NO!” Caia screamed in frustration. She wasn’t getting away from her that easily! This had to end! It had to end now! And Caia no longer cared how.

She made the decision to travel somewhere she’d never been before … a feat that could only be performed by a Traveler, a magik with Vil’s particular gifts. Marion had told Caia that Marita was probably staying at a specific inn, a condemned building in a small village in central Scotland.

Take me there, she whispered to her energy, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing on every ounce of magik that belonged to her. The travel seemed to take forever, moving through a black tunnel at warp speed, flashes of colored lights exploding in her eyes as a sickening pain bubbled under her skin.

With a thud, she collapsed on gritty ground, pebbles poking her legs and arms as she heaved forward, the contents of her stomach decorating what looked like a short driveway. She shuddered and convulsed, her flesh and insides so raw, it was as if a butcher had taken a meat hammer to her. When at last she stilled, lying prone on the stone driveway, Caia looked up through her hair to see a Gothic-style inn perched on a small hill.

Breathing deeply, she pulled herself to her feet, swaying a little, and gave her surroundings a fleeting look. A road along the side of the inn led to a residential area; below the hill was what appeared to be a main road with another road branching off, leading to houses that were stacked behind a tall wooden fence some yards down from the inn itself. It was pitch-dark, and there was not another soul around.

Thank goddess Eliza’s family lived in England or Caia might not have survived a longer distance. She examined the inn carefully. It was old, its windows and doors boarded up with DANGEROUS KEEP OUT sprayed across the main door in red. She almost snorted. These people had no idea just how dangerous the contents of the inn were.

The thought of what she had to do next made her want to throw up again, but Caia braced herself. It was now or never.

With another forceful push of her energy, she transported herself to the inn’s interior. A sharp pain exploded in her upper thigh and she bit back a yelp, but her efforts were in vain as she tumbled against the obstacle that had thrust into her leg and undone her, sending her crashing to the floor with a muffled oomph. Damn table.

See, this was why traveling was for the professionals.

Flipping herself over, Caia lay on her back panting and let her eyes drink in her surroundings. The inside of the inn was like a palace, every inch decorated exactly to Marita’s Renaissance-inspired taste.

She wanted to burn it to the ground!

The sound of shuffling to her left seized hold of her heart, and she stiffened. A painful heat gripped her entire length and pinned her to the floor. She struggled against the magikal hold but there was no budging; every time she tried to pierce it with her own magik, she got nowhere. As five faces popped into view above her, Caia realized why. Five magiks, one of whom was Marita, had combined their powers to trap her. She sneered at that, feeling a little smug that it had taken five of them to best her.