My heart pounded. This was Mary Anne's family? She was the crow I'd seen in the school and on the balcony that night, but she wasn't the only crow. There were dozens. She'd never belonged in an orphanage or a foster home. It was all a set-up for this moment.
"Now that all of my descendants are here, we can finally begin," the ancient witch said. She held out her hand and a woman handed her an ornate silver cup with a red ruby encrusted on the side. The cup was tarnished. The old witch's fingernails scratched against the metal as she gripped it tight.
Fear gripped my chest and made it difficult for me to breathe. This couldn't be the end. There had to be some way to fight back.
The old witch held the cup high above her head and began to chant in an ancient language. I didn't understand what she was saying, but I knew it couldn't be good. My skin erupted in goose-bumps.
"Alocuskah. Migdalian. Beshka locutar singestra." With these last words, she held up a single fingertip and pressed the sharp nail against her wrist. She cut a sharp, jagged wound into her flesh and let the blood flow into the ancient cup.
The witch passed the cup around the room and one by one, each member of the family spilled her blood into the cup. I watched, unable to move or do anything to stop this crazy ritual. When the cup passed back to the old witch, she lifted my blue pendant high into the air, then dropped it into the blood.
A sharp pain pierced through my heart. I cried out, and the old witch laughed. "It hurts, doesn't it?" she said. "Your demon will be cut from you and it will feel like I've ripped your poor heart from your chest."
My muscles tensed, and I tried to break free. I wanted to lash out at the woman. To fight for my life. But I was bound too tightly by her magic. I couldn't feel my own power.
She turned to the women in the room. "When the last of her blood runs into the portal, we have only moments before her spirit leaves her body. It's at that precise moment that we must transfer the bloodline from her family to ours."
"Wait." Mary Anne's small voice rang out in the cave-like room.
"You have wasted enough of my time," the old woman said, her eyes flaring bright red. "Keep your mouth shut and do as I have taught you."
"You said we weren't going to hurt her," Mary Anne said. Her blue eyes were wide with panic and fear. "You told me the transfer would be painless. That it would just suck her power from her body and she would be fine."
"Don't be stupid," the old witch said. "This is not a child's game we are playing at here. The girl must die in order for the spell to work."
The energy in the room shifted. I could feel the fear and anxiety in the air, thick as smoke. It was obvious the family wasn't used to anyone speaking up to their leader. What was Mary Anne doing? Didn't she see the hopelessness in this situation? There were too many to fight. They were too powerful.
"I won't do it," Mary Anne said, her voice trembling.
"Nonsense," the old witch shouted. "The entire bloodline must participate in order to create the transfer."
"I can't let you kill her," Mary Anne said. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her lip trembled, but she stood her ground. She was risking everything to save my life. A small flame of hope ignited somewhere deep inside of me.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus my power. I let all of the images fall away from my thoughts and concentrated only on a single blue butterfly. A drop of power trickled through my veins.
"You must participate," Mary Anne's mother said, stepping forward from her spot in the far corner. "I know it's difficult to make such a sacrifice, but it's the only way."
"Mother, I can't," she said.
"Participate in the ritual, or I will see you dead, purged from the bloodline," the old witch said. "This moment will not be stolen from me again."
Mary Anne held her hands out beside her body, a blue energy radiating from them. "I've seen enough death in this town to last a lifetime," she said through her tears. Her hands were shaking. "And I don't want to become a murderer."
I closed my eyes and breathed in and out slowly. I pushed the room from my mind and concentrated only on my own inner power. The butterfly danced in the blackness, and I felt stronger.
"Alexandria, don't hurt her," Mary Anne's mother said. "Please. She's my only daughter. Let me talk to her."
The old witch turned at the sound of the name. "From this day on, you will never call me Alexandria again," she said. Her eyes blazed and her fingertips flared with heat. "Today, I become the Prima."
The old witch shifted into crow form and swooped toward Mary Anne, liquid fire streaming from her beak.
Mary Anne screamed and jumped away, the bottom of her robe bursting into flame. She frantically pulled the robe from her body and stood, blue energy shining from her hands. She raised her hands toward the flying crow and released a ray of energy, but the crow swerved.
The old woman's cackle filled the room as she landed in the corner and switched back to her original form. I seized the moment of chaos and focused all of my thoughts on the ancient cup left unguarded on the stone altar. My power was so weak, turning the cup on its side was like trying to lift a van off the ground with my bare hands.
I focused my energy into as bright a butterfly as I could imagine, letting my body fill with the vibrations of my power. The cup tumbled over with a clang. Red blood from every member of the family spilled down the stone altar and onto the floor of the ritual room.
The old witch shrieked in anger as my necklace slid from the cup and landed in a bloody heap on the floor.
Power surged through me. I took control of my own body, breaking the spell that held me suspended in the air. I fell hard to the floor, my back against the cold sapphire that held the closed portal. I disappeared and scrambled across the floor.
"Block the doors," one witch called out.
Another witch surged forward, reaching out to grab me, but with my invisibility glamour up, she couldn't see me.
"Find the girl," someone else said. "She's gone."
I dodged hurried footsteps and thought only of the necklace. With Aerden's help, I might survive. My fingers closed around the silver chain of my necklace. It appeared to float through the air as I clasped the necklace around my neck.
"There!" Someone shouted, spotting the necklace.
A bright blue flash of light passed through the air. I ducked, but the edge of the light slid across my skin. My body turned ice cold, and I froze in place, unable to scream or move or even blink an eye. I became visible and stood like an ice sculpture in the center of the ritual room. The witches circled me like vultures.
Somewhere up above, the ground rumbled. I could feel my connection to Aerden strengthen as he emerged from the marble statue. All eyes turned to the entrance as a dark, swirling shadow swooped down the stone steps.
Aerden!
My heart rose up high in my chest. I summoned the core of my power and thawed the ice around my form, breaking free and sending shards of ice flying. Witches screamed. Some cowered in the corner, while others stood to face the powerful demon.
One tall witch shot a green burst of energy at Aerden. He easily dodged and the bolt of green light hit the stone wall behind him and exploded in a burst of goo that oozed to the floor.
"Don't kill them," the old witch said. "Try to contain the demon and get the necklace from the girl."
Five witches circled the demon, trapping him in the corner closest to the door. I could feel his confidence and anger coursing through my own heart. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my pulse hammered. Could we survive this?
I reached deep inside of myself and conjured a storm, feeding off Aerden's presence. Lightning shot through the room and rain began to fall in heavy, pelting sheets. All of the candles went out, drenching the room in darkness.
That's when the screams began. Aerden morphed into slippery shadows in the pitch darkness. Bursts of light shot forth as witches tried to defend themselves, but shadowy claws ripped through the black room, sending witches to the floor, sliced and bleeding.
I felt a small hand grab my own and pull me toward the doorway. At first, I fought against them, trying to pull away, but then I saw the blue of Mary Anne's clear eyes in a flash of light. I followed her toward the stairs as the screams rang out behind us.
Together, we ran up the stone stairs, but just as the night sky came into view, a large crow swooped in front of us.
The old witch hovered in the doorway, her red eyes fierce with power. She shifted back to human form, then created a giant wall of flames, blocking any hope of going through. I lifted my hands to shield myself from the heat. She started down the stairs toward us and we both backed down.
Bodies littered the floor behind us. One witch tried to crawl across our path, then collapsed, hand outstretched.
The old witch lifted her hand in the air and Mary Anne's feet left the ground. She rose up, her boots kicking the air. Mary Anne's hands went around her neck as if she were being choked. Her face turned red and she opened her mouth, struggling for air. I lunged toward her, trying to pull her down, but the old witch used her other hand to throw up a wall of fire in my way.
Through the flames, I saw Mary Anne's legs go still. Her body limp. She fell to the ground like a ragdoll.
Then, the witch turned her blazing eyes on me.