We were in a circular chamber with a domed glass ceiling. The sun shone, liquid light, down into the room through a gap in the angry clouds. A gap that looked like it had been punched into the sky by a ginormous fist.
Thirteen women sat at a long table in the center of the room, faces tipped back to soak in the sunlight. Their hands were on the table in front of them.
They dropped their chins in unison as we entered the room. Sloane stepped closer to me in a protective gesture. God, she was sweet, but I could handle myself. Just fine.
I scanned their faces, dark-haired, pale, brown-eyed, all except one—a redhead with startling green eyes that looked unreal. She locked gazes with me and then raised a hand to beckon me forward.
“Go on, cupcake,” Sloane said softly.
I walked toward the table and stopped a meter or so from it. “Hey. How you doing?”
Silence greeted me and then a tingle spread across my body. “What are you—"
An invisible hand gripped my throat, cutting off my breath and my words with it.
“Cora?” Sloane’s voice was a distant thing, and then I was no longer in the room.
The world was gray and silver mist rose up around me, thick and viscous.
I turned on the spot, scanning the thick mist. “Hey? What the hell?” The air was thicker, heavier, and my body felt detached and grounded at the same time. “This is the kind of shit that makes me stabby.”
And then the sound registered—moans, screams, and shrieks of pain. They rose in volume, tearing at my senses and battered mind.
“No more.”
“Make it stop.”
“Please…”
The crack of a whip, the whirr of cogs, and the wet sound of metal piercing flesh spawned images of torture. My pulse hammered in my throat, fear a lump of ice in my belly.
Figures stepped out of the fog—the silent sisters. The horrific sounds swelled and then cut off as if someone had flipped a switch. The fog pressed in as the sisters surrounded me, circling me.
“What the hell is this place?”
An invisible pressure exerted itself on my body.
Hell no!
My power surged up, hands fizzing in response to whatever they were doing. The tingle intensified as they pushed further, searching for something. Yeah, I didn’t like this.
Darkness whiplashed out from my solar plexus and the hold they had on me snapped.
I staggered back, lip curling as anger flared in my chest. “Take me back. Now.”
She is not of the bloodline.
What the fuck were they on about?
This cannot be possible.
And yet it is.
Which means it will come to pass as she foresaw.
Do you see it? Do you see the residue?
Hush now.
Not now.
The redhead stepped forward.
“There are trials ahead, child.” Her voice filled my head, but her mouth didn’t move. “So many trials. You will be tested, and you must pass if we are to reset the balance.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The balance must be restored. The power that was taken must be returned. It is almost time. You must see him for what he is before you can save him.” Her mouth turned down. “We were wrong, and we pay the price.”
“The price for what?”
“For taking what we should not. For stealing from the well.”
Low moans filled the air. Pained moans that made the hair on my nape stand to attention.
But can you taste it?
Can you feel it?
The redhead closed her eyes.
The connection. We could have it. We could have it, if we keep her.
What the fuck?
The redhead’s eyes snapped open, vibrant like a lush forest dappled in sunlight. “No!”
Her hand shot out to punch me in the chest.
Forgive…
The fog melted and I was back in the domed room with the silent sisters watching me innocently from behind the table as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn’t just yanked me into an alternate plane, talked gibberish, and then punched me in the chest.
“Cora!” Sloane’s arms were around me, her chest to my back. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I shook off the sense of displacement and fixed a glare on the silent sisters. “What was that about?”
Silence greeted us.
“Hello?”
Sloane’s grip on me tightened. “Give us the glamour we came for.”
One of the witches stood and walked toward us with a box. She held it out and Sloane took it.
“The glamour?” Sloane demanded, her tone tight with anger.
The silent sister nodded.
Sloane kept her arm around me and pulled me back with her. “Portal home, please.”
The witch pulled a coin from her pocket and threw it into the air. This time instead of a door a shimmering oval rupture appeared.
Sloane maneuvered me toward it. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
But the silent sisters’ warnings were ringing in my ears. I glanced over my shoulder and locked gazes with the redheaded sister just before Sloane propelled us through the portal.
My blood ran cold at the look in her eyes.
Hunger.
Tear your skin off and eat your insides hunger.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What the fuck?” Sloane paced Anna’s office.
I’d filled them in on what had happened with the sisters.
Anna sat silently behind her desk. “I was afraid that might happen. There are rumors about the sisters. I think I mentioned that the silent sisters draw power from an unnamed source, but that isn’t strictly true. They drew from it once in order to create Croatoan’s prison.”
“I thought the elder witches did that using celestial power from the Sons of Adam.”
“The Sons of Adam were one of the ingredients. The stories say there is always a cost to using this fourth power. A sacrifice the silent sisters made. They were changed. Left with a residue of this power forever inside them but also left with a void for more that can’t be filled. But the prison provides some relief.”
Relief. The screams of torment… “Wait, they feed on the prisoners’ pain, don’t they? They’re not in their
