I follow her directions, all the while getting more and more agitated that we were put in the position we are in now. As a firm believer in standing up for what you believe in, I don’t understand the mentality of ignoring a problem.
Yes, fighting back means being uncomfortable for a while.
It means living a life that may or may not be snuffed out in the next breath.
But it also means an existence knowing that you stood for something bigger than yourself.
“Turn left here,” Bella guides me into what looks like an abandoned parking lot. I swing into a spot, and immediately, l extend my magic out, searching for any sign that something is off. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I push my reach out, but still, I sense nothing.
No magic.
No living things.
Just complete emptiness.
Bella opens the passenger door and climbs out, moves around the front of the car, and waits for me to join her near the hood. As soon as I’m standing beside her, she begins walking toward an old outbuilding.
I follow, keeping my magic at the ready in the event of any kind of trap. Heart in my throat, I wait for the quiet to be severed with a fight. She opens the door, revealing a dark hall and a set of stairs that seemingly ascend into the ceiling.
“Glamour?” I ask.
She nods.
“It’s strong.”
“I told you, we’re a paranoid bunch.” Bella steps onto the first step, continuing to move up until she disappears into the ceiling.
I’ve seen some pretty crazy glamour—cast some wild ones myself—but this one takes the cake. “Here goes.” Boot on the first step, I turn my face up and take a deep breath. Then I continue up right after her. At ceiling level, I’m met with some resistance, but I push through, feeling a hell of a lot like a Looney Toon pressing through the WB barrier at the beginning of the cartoon.
It would be comical if I wasn’t already on edge.
I break through and emerge outside. Where it had been night only moments ago, now the sun shines brightly overhead, momentarily blinding me as my eyes work to adjust to the new light. As they do, a massive garden comes into view around me. Trees block out any distant views, while perfectly shaped topiary arranged in large pots dot the grounds. Brick paths weave throughout the space, each pathway leading to a different grouping of white café tables and chairs.
The entire scene is that of a fancy tea party, and while I want to be nothing more than intrigued, it just pisses me the hell off. The type of magic here, the same type that likely glamoured the building outside, it’simmense. Who the hell is this powerful? And why the hell did they not step up when Heather was ravaging the city? Lucy?
All around me, people stand huddled in small groups, chatting incessantly. As Bella guides me farther and farther into the garden, though, they stop and face me, clearly uncomfortable with my presence. Men, women, and, to my surprise—children—all watch my every move as though they’re waiting for me to sprout a second head and turn into a monster.
The air around me shifts, thickening as it grows heavy with power that’s alien, yet somehow familiar. In response, my own power flares to life, slipping down my arms and encircling my hands. It dances around me, unsure whether the newcomer is friend or foe.
“You’re going to get to meether,” Bella whispers in complete awe.
I don’t dare tear my gaze from the people in front of me. “Meet who?”
“Our leader.”
“Who the hell is your—”
The crowd standing before me parts, and a woman dressed in loose white pants and a tan shirt steps through. Her blonde hair is braided over her shoulder, the bright strands threaded with slightly darker color.
My heart slams against my ribs.
My blood hammers in my veins.
Her green eyes regard me with warmth as she folds her hands in front of her. “Bronywyn, it is lovely to finally meet you.”
I don’t breathe. Don’t speak. This can’t be possible. Thisshouldn’tbe possible, right? How— I shake my head and swallow hard. “How are you here?” I ask, remaining completely rooted in my spot.
The woman cocks her head to the side. “How do you mean?”