Rebel Witch

  Rebel Witch

  Twin Rivers Captive #3

  September Stone

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Also by September Stone

  Copyright © 2019 September Stone LLC

  Cover Art by EmCat Designs

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition: May 2020

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For information:

  www.septemberstone.com

  A broken curse, fractured relationships, and the return of an old enemy…

  A brief moment of victory is overshadowed by the resurgence of an old foe seeking Bryn’s help. But sudden losses have shattered Bryn, and she must take solace in the men who haven’t abandoned her.

  Her hope to start a new life with her remaining lovers is dashed when a dangerous supernatural drug makes its way to the streets. She can’t begin again when the poison that ruined her life is left unchecked to destroy more families.

  But stopping the spread will force Bryn to make uneasy alliances—and lie to the men she loves. Her crusade could cost more than she’s willing to pay, but backing down will spell disaster for supernaturals and non-magical people alike. Bryn must choose between her own happiness and the fate of the world.

  Chapter One

  Bryn

  Gold and green strands of magic twist in my core, waiting for the barest hint of intent—the tiniest whisper of a command. They coil like a snake, ready to spiral out through the diner’s foundation and coax life into the vines, roots, and limbs lurking just beyond the large pane windows.

  It would be so easy to kill the woman sitting on the bench opposite mine—the one who held me prisoner for a decade and used my magic to suit her dark purposes. It would take little effort to circle writhing vines around her neck until she can never draw breath again.

  And yet I sit, frozen and mute, as Mona Ward clutches a chipped off-white mug of steaming coffee.

  “How did you find Bryn?” Silas asks from his spot at the end of the table where he pulled up a chair after Mona’s arrival.

  The question is so simple, so obvious—but it’s one that hasn’t entered my mind since Mona’s appearance. I’ve been so consumed with the why that I haven’t considered the how.

  “A locating charm.” Mona’s fingers flex around her cup. “Years ago, I had another witch in my employ make a charm with Bryn’s DNA. An insurance policy should Bryn ever try to run off.”

  Although she doesn’t give details on just how many years ago, I can’t help thinking I already know the answer—four years ago when she sold Calder off. She was afraid I would try to follow him.

  “Charms like that are strong—and precise,” Silas says. “Why are you only finding us now?”

  “Because I’ve been a prisoner!”

  Mona’s exclamation draws the attention of a few nearby patrons, but they all look away quickly, as if afraid to intrude on a private conversation.

  “It felt like months,” Mona continues, her tone subdued. Although she specifically asked for coffee when the waitress passed by a few minutes ago, she has yet to take a sip. Instead, her once dazzling turquoise eyes scan the room warily as she speaks. “The psychics Lillian employs are powerful. I was convinced she had me locked up much longer. And the things they made me believe I lived through.” A shudder rips through her so violently that coffee sloshes over the side of her mug.

  “Like being locked away in solitary confinement and forced to brew toxic potions?” Calder’s voice is low and dangerous, and the words send a shiver along my spine. His tone drips with venom, though whether it’s wholly due to Mona’s treatment of me or if some is pent up from his own time in her collection, I can’t be sure.

  Mona cuts her gaze to him. For the first time since she arrived—disheveled and wearing ill-fitting sweats—I detect the haughty, self-assured siren whose criminal empire reaches across the continent. “No matter what you think of me, Calder Ross, take my word when I say neither you nor your contemporaries suffered at my hand. Were you prisoners? Yes. But never were you tortured the way I was.”

  “The way you thought you were,” Silas says pointedly. “According to your own story, Lillian’s psychics just made you think you were suffering.”

  Although he was poised to leave before Mona’s arrival, her presence has proven enough to make him stick around—at least for now. He swipes a lock of too-long black hair off his forehead, but the flash in his dark brown eyes belies the casual gesture. Silas studies her shrewdly, checking for any sign of weakness.

  Or deception.

  “But why just pretend to torture you?” Taj asks, his expression thoughtful. Leave it to Taj to consider all angles, despite his months undercover in her organization where he learned just how cruel Mona can be. While it’s clear Silas isn’t taking the siren at her word, Taj is willing to offer her the benefit of the doubt.

  Mona draws back her shoulders, visibly ruffling and clearly unused to her word being questioned at all. “I assure you, nothing about it felt pretend.”

  Silas leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Taj has a point. Lillian isn’t known for pulling punches. If she really wanted you hurt, you’d have the scars to prove it.”

  Mona’s shoulders slump and a wariness creases the corners of her eyes. I’ve never seen her so weak and vulnerable. It’s almost hard to recognize her.

  But maybe that’s exactly what she wants. Mona is a siren and accustomed to manipulating people into getting what she wants. Maybe Lillian’s psychic torturers did something to keep her song from working, or maybe she doesn’t want to chance using it in case we can see through her deception. Every siren—even one as powerful as Mona—has a limit on how many people she can control at once, and I’m not the same weak girl I was when last we met. I was able to break through the deception Casek’s apparition attempted to use, and I’m confident I could resist anything Mona throws at me.

  “I believe killing me was her eventual plan,” Mona says, nodding deferentially to Taj and Silas in turn. “But first she wanted information out of me. I didn’t realize until it was too late…” She covers her face with her hands.

  Instead of the move evoking pity, revulsion pools in the pit of my stomach. After everything she’s done, Mona doesn’t get to play the victim now. I don’t care what she experienced during her laughably brief captivity. Whatever it was, there’s no way it could have made up for everything she’s done.

  Silas’ brow furrows as if he’s bee
n presented with a puzzle. “What exactly did you figure out too late?”

  “They left me alone,” Mona says in a low voice, her eyes unfocused. “I had passed out during the latest round of torture, and I suppose they didn’t expect me to wake as soon as I did. Lillian came into the cell to check on me.” A shadow passes over her face and her turquoise eyes darken. “She wasn’t interested in the money I have stashed in offshore accounts or which associates would be most likely to turn against me and take out loyalists. She wasn’t interested in me at all—except to make me pay for keeping her businesses in check all these years. But even then, revenge isn’t what she’s after. She wants an empire—and she’s nearly got the strength to make it happen. Somehow, she’s managed to siphon off the magic from three different witches, all who were especially strong in their affinities.” Her eyes clear as she fixed her gaze on me. “She wants to steal your magic.”

  The fierce and foreboding expression on Mona’s face elicits a snort from me. “Is that all?”

  Her eyes widen and she glances at the guys as if to gauge their reactions. “I should think it’s more than enough. Lillian is already immortal. If she can control all four magical affinities, she’ll be unstoppable. This is hardly a laughing matter,” she adds, glaring at Silas, whose raised hand does nothing to cover his snigger.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “She cursed me the night I escaped from you. The death mark was supposed to kill me and siphon off my powers on the night of the full moon. But we broke the spell. Lillian’s not getting my magic.”

  Mona raises her eyebrows incredulously. “And you think that’s it? That you’re miraculously safe now because you thwarted her once? My dear, nothing in life is that easy. She’ll keep coming for you.”

  “Let her try,” Calder growls, his fingers curling into a fist.

  She eyes him with mild interest. “Touching as your sentiment is, I can guarantee you’re underestimating Lillian—and how badly she wants Bryn’s power. She won’t bat an eye at killing you to get to her. Any of you.”

  Silas twists in his seat, but he keeps his mouth pressed shut. My fingers twitch, but I suppress the urge to squeeze his hand. Better than anyone, Silas knows just how brutal Lillian’s tactics can be. He was bound to her for nine months, and it was on her order that he marked me for death the night we met. Not that I would share that information with Mona.

  “Well, thank you for your concern, I suppose,” Taj says. “But we have the situation well in hand.”

  She pins him with a glare. “I can assure you that you don’t. The only way Bryn will ever be safe is if Lillian is taken out of the equation permanently. That’s why I’m here. I want to offer my assistance.”

  Calder opens his mouth to respond, but I place a hand on his forearm before he can get the words out. “Counter offer,” I say, pleased when my voice comes out strong. “We turn you into the elders to face the consequences for all the people you killed with my potions.”

  It’s what I should have done as soon as she appeared in front of me. Mona has caused so much pain and damage. Being Lillian’s prisoner for a couple of weeks isn’t enough. She shouldn’t be sitting here in front of me, free to make offers and craft deals.

  “Don’t pretend you’re here out of the goodness of your heart,” I continue. “Now that you’ve seen firsthand how strong Lillian is, you’re scared. You just want to kill her so you don’t have any rivals when you try to rebuild your empire. Hard pass.”

  Mona straightens the sleeves on her oversized hoodie, the fidgeting movement sending a stab of pleasure through me. But when she turns her gaze to mine, icy dread grips my stomach. “I was wondering when we would come to this. Know that if you try to turn me into the magical authorities, I have more than enough evidence to land you behind bars as well.”

  My worry ebbs. “Nice try, but the elders already judged me. They found me not guilty of killing Amos Cross.”

  A smirk curves the corners of Mona’s lips. “Dear girl, are you under the misapprehension that Amos is the only important figure your potions were used on? Now, the elders may not be entirely accurate in where they place their ire, but they are at least fair in their judgments. Many others are not as understanding and tend to… What’s the phrase? Shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Despite not trusting Mona as far as I could throw her, I don’t for a second doubt her words. Of course Amos Cross isn’t the only person my potions have killed. Although I had no knowledge of what purposes my creations would have—let alone their intended targets—not everyone concerns themselves with such intricacies. The elders didn’t care that I’d been forced to make deadly potions. As far as they were concerned, I was as guilty for crafting them as Mona was for ordering them to be made. I escaped punishment at their hands only because something in my magical signature shifted enough to keep them from pinning the crime on me. But I can imagine how some others might not care so much about proving my guilt before assigning blame.

  No matter how much I’d love to shove Mona into the back of our rental car and drive her to the elders’ mansion myself, I can’t run the risk of her turning me in to some shady underworld figures. She’s alone, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t in contact with loyalists somewhere who have orders to blast my location to anyone who might be interested in knowing it if she doesn’t check in at intervals. There’s only one thing I can do.

  “We’re leaving.” I nudge Taj in the arm and he slides off the bench beside me. Calder and Silas stand as well. “If you want to go up against Lillian, more power to you. But we’re not going to help. In fact, I never want to see you again.”

  I stalk toward the door, a weight lifting from my shoulders with each step I take. I can leave my past behind me and start a new life. Who I’ve been doesn’t have to influence who I will become.

  Taj edges ahead of me to open the diner’s door. I’m about to cross the threshold when fingers circle my wrist, giving my arm a firm tug.

  “In time, you’ll see I’m right,” Mona says, her eyes wide and a little wild. She presses a crumpled piece of paper into my hand. “And when that time comes, call me.”

  Calder and Silas round on the woman, but before they can get a word out, Mona releases me and slinks back into the restaurant.

  “Are you all right, love?” Taj wraps an arm around me as we step out into the sunshine.

  I crumple the piece of paper and almost throw it to the ground before stopping myself. Anger at Mona is no excuse for trashing nature. Instead, I tuck it into my pocket to dispose of later. “I’m fine,” I say at length. “I just… let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Two

  Bryn

  My blood boils with such intensity as I stalk down the street that I fear my skin will begin melting at any moment. I keep expecting peace to overtake me by degrees as I put distance between myself and Mona, but my body doesn’t relax. Every atom in my body vibrates with potential energy, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

  It’s not until I glimpse a familiar shop a few doors down that a plan begins to take shape in my mind. Quickening my pace, I head directly to the spell supply store I visited on my first foray into downtown Twin Rivers.

  As soon as I cross the threshold and inhale the sweet and savory mix of herbs perfuming the air, my heartbeat begins to slow. In the days I’ve been in contact with my element and no longer forced to twist pure, natural components into vile brews they were never meant to create, the plants and stones I’ve spent countless hours among in my lifetime finally feel like friends.

  I’m already carving a path down the center aisle when the door opens again, and I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know who followed me into the building. I’ve become so attuned to Taj and Calder—and even Silas, to a lesser extent—that I can feel the way the air changes when they’re around.

  Taj’s strong hand cups my shoulder as I pick up a bunch of basil and sniff it. “What’s on your mind, love?”

  I replace the herb a
nd pick up a second bouquet. Before I bring it to my nose, I can sense these leaves are more potent than the first. Good. I’ll need every ingredient as strong as it can be. “I can’t chance Mona or someone else like her finding me again. A locating charm? I can’t believe I didn’t think to ward against something so obvious.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Silas says. “Taj and Calder were the ones sent to protect you. They should’ve been the ones to think of it.”

  “Nice,” Calder mutters.

  I move from the basil, my hand passing over the tops of the adjacent plants, seeking the other energies necessary to craft a protection charm. “Their plan was to get me to the Liberation Front right after the raid. I’m guessing they’ve got tons of protective charms guarding their headquarters. It makes sense they wouldn’t have worried about getting me something for the interim. Besides, if they had, we never would’ve met.” I glance at Silas and offer a wink, but the attempt at levity falls flat. Silas meets my gaze only briefly before turning and studying a bundle of rosemary as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

  For the next thirty minutes, I comb the herbs and stones around the store, seeking just the right mix to accomplish my goal. Taj sticks close to my side, offering suggestions at intervals. But I don’t locate the last of the elements until Calder has the presence of mind to check one of the numerous spell books lining the walls.