Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
But why?
I blink again and shuffle forward a few feet.
“Where are we?” I ask, coming to a stop.
“I think we’re in the garage behind the plaza,” someone else answers. That’s three different voices. I think. “I saw a lawn mower when she opened the door and brought you in.”
“Are you guys tied up too?” I ask.
“Yeah,” one of them replies, voice breaking. “With zip ties.”
“I’m Anora,” I go on, knowing that we all need to stay calm. This is exactly what I feared would happen but it shouldn’t have because Stuart has been banished. “Are you able to move? We can free each other.” I pull against the binds, tipping my head up and sniffing the air. The smell of gasoline is strong in here. Will the place go up in flames if I summon fire?
I still don’t know what would happen if I held fire in my hand and tried to melt something, but right now it’s a chance I’m going to take. Because if I don’t, we’re going to end up murdered.
“It’s going to be okay.” I slide my foot in front of me, feeling for obstacles before I take a step forward. “I’m going to get us out of here and—”
A side door opens and the women in here start screaming. “Help! Someone help us!” Their screams are drowned out by cheering coming from a crowd and then a new song starts up again, base thumping loudly.
Right. There was a new band playing. It’s an all-girls gothic cover band and right now they’re singing Paint it Black. I close my eyes, trying to center myself. That fucking bitch slipped something in my drink and if she thinks she’ll find me laying down powerless, she has another thing coming. I Might be drugged to hell but I will fight with everything I have.
Hunter, I call and reach out to my familiar. Something clicks in my head and I know he heard my call. It won’t be long before he’s here. There’s a scuffle to my left and someone screams in pain.
“Ariana McMillian!” I yell, pushing my shoulders back. “This ends now and you’re not going to get away with it.”
The sound of a body thudding resounds through the building and then suddenly, lights are turned on. I blink, eyes hurting. Ariana—the woman who introduced herself as Amy—stands only a few feet from me. She took off the coat she had been wearing and has a utility belt around her waist with a knife, handcuffs, and night vision goggles hanging from it. I take a quick moment to look around. Two women who I recognize as the organizers of the event are huddled together. Another is only a few feet from Ariana with her back up against a garbage can. And a fourth woman is on the ground, purple hair over her face. She’s not moving.
“I already have.” She reaches down, hand going to the knife.
“Your dad thought so too. For nearly forty years. But I found out his secret and now the world knows what he did.”
“I know you did, bitch. I saw you sniffing around his grave. People like you…you’re unnatural,” she sneers in disgust. “My father was right. We need to purge the wicked.”
“I’m wicked? You’re the one killing people you fucking psycho!” I carefully gather heat around my fingers, trying hard not to nervously glance at the gas cans only a few feet from me.
“I’m doing God’s work. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. I’m doing what needs to be done before you can corrupt more innocent souls.”
“Okay, Ms. Exodus.” I rub my thumb over my index finger, summoning a small flame. I swallow hard and wait a few seconds. Nothing explodes, thank fucking god. “Then let the others go. They’re not real witches. Not like me. I get down and dirty with Satan every night. Sometimes in the morning too. He’s just so needy…like can’t a girl get a break? I’m chafing down there!”
“You think this is a fucking joke?” She pulls the knife from her belt. “I’ll see how much you laugh after I cut your tongue out of your mouth.”
“Trust me,” I say and feel flames surround my hand. I grit my teeth, prepared to feel the burn of melted plastic on my skin. I haven’t gotten my nails done since I discovered that I’m a witch with the power of pyrokinesis in fear that the acrylic would melt and burn me. I’m going to find out if that’s going to happen tonight. I command the fire to creep up my arm, able to feel the heat. It doesn’t hurt. “I will be getting the last laugh.” I pull my hands apart, breaking the weak plastic, and throw my hands out in front of me, fire balls hovering above my palms.