Saved by the Spell (Anna Wolfe Series, Book #2) (4 page)

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Cassie remarks.

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I respond as I continue to inspect every eyelash and piece of hair. I glide the palm of my hand down my strands, and feel astounded by its softness. “Wow, thank you, Cassie. I can’t believe
it.”

“Fairy dust can do many things, but nothing useful,” she giggles.
“Unfortunately, I am one of the few fairies who can create it with my own free will.”

“
Thank you.”

She flicks her wrist. “Ah, it’s nothing. It’s the least I can do,” she replies solemnly.

Before I have a chance to ask her about the origins of fairy dust and her exclusivity with it, a strong knock pounds off the stone walls. Cassie sighs as she makes her way to the door. I reach down and pat my boot, thankful at feeling the indentation of the bobby pin. Micah’s voice travels through her living space, and I stand, walking out to meet him.

His eyes are immediately transfixed on me. Red strings dance in delight as his expression changes from indifferent to passionate. “My love, you look… delectable.”

I recoil at his use of that word. I glance down, noticing my legs’ visibility through the carefully engineered high slits. I shuffle until they're safely hidden behind the narrow black strip of cloth.

“I knew that dress would look amazing on you,” Micah grins. His wolfy snarl enlarges as his eyes drag themselves up and down my body.

I wrap my arms around my chest, suddenly feeling too vulnerable.

“Enough already,” Cassie interjects. “Now, be gone,” she demands, staring at Micah.

He doesn’t respond or flinch. His undivided attention remains fastened on me… or should I say, the slits behind which my legs are hiding. He clears his throat finally.

“Yes, I will most certainly be leaving,” he says.

He takes two long strides towards me, grasping my upper arm tightly. He pulls me toward the direction of the door, without letting me say so much as a goodbye to Cassie. I frantically peek over my shoulder at her. She silently mouths
good luck.
I nod in replacement of a heartfelt thank you. I snap my neck around to see which direction we’re going. To my surprise, we are still in the same tunnel, walking towards empty space.

Micah stops, and turns to me. “You are ravishing,” he states, sliding his hand down my cheek.

I wince, hoping he doesn’t try to explore anything lower than my chin. I gaze into his emerald eyes, surprised to see red burning brightly in their centers. There’s something captivating about how they flicker and dance. He slides his muscular arm around my lower back, gently pulling me towards him. He inhales slowly and deeply into my hair, tickling my ear with his breath. Chills explode on my skin as his other hand caresses my arm. He lightly grazes the bottom of my earlobe with his full lips, sending nervous waves of energy through me, straight into my stomach.
What the hell Anna!?
I scold myself for suddenly being attracted to the same person who abducted me. Inside, my alter ego smirks, warning me that my irrational attraction to him was always bound to surface… real or not.

Micah’s face is inches from my own, and I can feel his hot breath stroking my skin. His eyes are fully consumed in crimson as he moves closer to me. His lips press against mine, gently spreading them open. His thick tongue slides in, exploring the inside of my mouth. I try to fight him, but his magic is too powerful. It infiltrates my body tightly, becoming a part of me. My body reacts to him on its own, regardless of my brain’s
protests.
Damn it, Anna!
I plead to myself, but physically, my body erupts with desire. I rake my fingers through his hair as he forcefully lifts me up, and wraps my legs around him. I can feel the thin material of my dress starting to stretch as he pushes his excitement against me. Moans escape my tightly closed lips before I whisper in his ear to take me. He slides his hand down my cheek, working his way to my chest when my brain unexpectedly shakes the fog off.
What am I doing?!
I try to pull away, but my squirming only results in him tightening his grip. His hand on my lower back presses me deeper into his embrace as he frantically shoves his tongue further down my throat. I attempt to lift my arms and push him off me, but I’m unable to. His free hand cups my left breast, squeezing it painfully, but sensuously at the same time.

He reaches
underneath my jacket, searching for the dress’s thin strap. Softly, he slips it off my shoulder exposing me. A moan of fear and pleasure escapes from my mouth as he slides my nipple between his teeth, pulling on it delicately. I yell for him to stop, but find only silence dribbling from my mouth. My voice and limbs refuse to obey my will. I slam my eyes shut, pushing away the longing collecting in my core. I visualize him flying off me and into the wall behind us. I narrow all my thoughts and invest the sum of my energy into it, helpless, hoping for something to happen. His exploration becomes more intimate, and he reaches for the thin cloth between my legs. A fire ignites inside me and I grab hold of his swollen biceps. Magic pulses through the tips of my fingers when I center my attention on him. Within seconds, Micah is hurled backwards, slamming into the wall with a loud thud. I shake my body, freeing myself from the remnants of his magic. I breathe in the humid air instantaneously, trying to wrangle the hundreds of thoughts skipping around my head. How did I do that? I look at Micah, who’s standing before me, seething in anger.

“H
ow did you manage to do that?” he spits.

That’s what I’d like to know.
“I don’t know, it just happened.”

He marches over to me, pointing his finger in my face accusingly. “What did you do? Tell me! How did you use magic!?”

I press my back further into the wall, wishing it would open up and swallow me.

“How could you possibly…?” he trails off. Then, stepping back, he rakes his sturdy fingers through his caramel hair. “This is impossible.”

Clearly, he’s thinking out loud. His shocked demeanor throws me for a loop. I don’t know how I summoned my magic, and from the looks of it, neither does he. I try to replay our situation, minus the intimate parts that now make me flinch with disgust. I was really scared and was physically touching him. None of this makes any sense! I close my eyes, trying to summon my magic without the slightest stir. How was I able to do that? I threw him off me like a feather! Maybe being a Grand Witch has something to do with it. I’m sure there are many other things I’m now capable of, and I just need to figure out what they are so I can get out of here.

“Let’s go,” he states angrily, snatching my arm and squeezing it.

We continue walking down the vacant tunnel at a fast pace. I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed or infuriated about what just happened. The tunnel ceiling begins to lift, terminating in an enormous grand room. I inspect my surroundings, noting the drab concrete benches formed in a circle before me, where I assume the spectators must sit. In the middle is one conspicuously pretentious throne, draped in red velvet. What's the deal with evil men and velvet? In front of the throne, an outline of a square is drawn in chalk. I assume that’s where the guilty party waits for sentencing. Micah ventures further into the room and I find myself staring in awe at the magnificent ceiling. Gigantic, blood-drenched crystal spikes dangle like a chandelier, all sparkling in the orange illumination, courtesy of numerous lit torches on the walls. It’s a beautifully disturbing room, reminiscent of a more medieval era. Micah pulls on my arm, urging me to speed up. He stops abruptly at the square before pushing me to the ground.

“On your knees,” he barks.

Obeying him, I’m suddenly nervous as to what’s in store for me. My eyes dart around the room, panic-stricken and hesitant. My heart thuds in my chest at the very thought of meeting Lucifer. Micah stands behind me, both his knees nestled roughly into my back. I glower, thinking of how much I abhor him. How can he harbor such hate for me, yet want me just as strongly? Micah is the vilest anomaly. A stampede of sharp voices ricochets off the walls as a mixture of disgusting creatures and humans begin filling the concrete pews. A being with jerky movements and nearly transparent yellow skin catches my eye. The vampire slides into the room, clumsily making its way to an open seat on the bench. It stares right at me, filling me with dread.

I drop my eyes, not wanting to appear more frightened than I already am. My heart pounds like a jackhammer, beating the inside of my ribs like Mike Tyson. An eight-foot tall, jacked up werewolf walks in next, gripping a shackle with its cumbersome claws. My eyes follow
the chain’s trail, stopping on two petite women with steel collars spelled tightly around their necks. They are identical twins, both with glistening, blonde hair pouring down the centers of their backs. Their gray eyes narrow, nervously inspecting the room and its occupants in abject terror. The wolf stops, turning to them in displeasure. He places his large hands on both of their shoulders, shoving them forcibly against the wall. A small squeal escapes from one as they take their stances, and become still as statues. Four gray eyes lock onto mine.

"
Can you hear us?"
two voices ask simultaneously.

Out of instinct, I glance feverishly around the crowd, wondering to whom these voices belong
to.

“
Don’t be so obvious… over here,”
one voice instructs.

I crane my neck, resting my eyes on the twins.

“Yes, we’re talking to you,”
the other speaks, her eyes filled with expectation.

“
I… Uh… yes,”
I reply hesitantly.
“Am I going crazy?”

Elated giggles erupt, but their faces remain devoid of any emotion.
“Can you hear me?”
I question in my mind, hoping I’m not leisurely walking off the cliff of insanity.

“
Yes, we can hear you. I’m Hannah… to your right… and this is Corrah… to your left
,
”
Hannah states without the slightest indication of movement.

“
Hello!”
Corrah exclaims.

They
sure seem bubbly, taking into account their dire situation.
“Hello, I’m Anna.”
They both gasp at the same time and I’m guessing what comes next.

“
You’re her… the Witch
…
”

“
That’s me, the one and only,”
I sigh. My name is starting to sound like an irritating slogan.

“
Wow, we really didn’t think you existed,”
Hannah replies glumly.
“Micah talked about you all the time, but no one ever thought you were real,”
she finishes.

“
I know, and yet, here I am.”

“
Wow! A real Grand Witch. This is beyond amazing!”
Corrah exclaims.
“Oh no… Anna, you have to focus now, Micah is watching you. You can’t let on that we can communicate this way.”

I avert my eyes, careful not to appear too anxious
. I haven’t communicated with someone telepathically since Janie, if you can even call it that. I was walking on the thin border of consciousness and slumber when we reached out to one another. I sigh heavily. My Grand Witchiness status has become more of a detriment than anything else. People presume I’ve won the grand prize in life, when in fact, the title has brought me nothing but disaster. Sometimes, following your destiny isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I twist my head forward, gazing at the tacky throne yet again. I have the sudden impulse to run up and kick it until it shatters. Out of nowhere, the roar of
deafening horns being blown encircles the chamber, assaulting my ears before a brain-numbing ringing takes over. Everyone stands, but I remain on my knees, unsure of what the proper protocol in Hell is. Micah slides his hand under my arm, hoisting me up roughly. I snap my neck towards him, narrowing my eyes into slits. He returns my death stare with a cocky smirk. My hands ball into fists. I wish I could punch him in his face, just once. He nods his head in the direction of the throne and his playfully arrogant smirk disappears. I remind myself of the need to choose my battles, for fear that I’ll fade within a week’s time. I survey the crowd, cringing inwardly at the various nasty beings seated behind me. My eyes halt in a standstill when they lock onto Cara’s vacant stare. Fury boils inside me and it takes all the energy I have not to jump over the creatures and pound her face in. Naturally, she would sit and watch her own sister on trial.

The steady rhythm of boots thumping against the solid marble steals my attention. A towering shadow climbs up the wall behind the throne, growing larger with each hefty step. I slouch unintentionally, feeling smaller with every passing minute. The annoying horns stop as a grotesque man
finally emerges from the shadows. His brawny body is the color of brick dust—red and darker within each muscular crevice. He uncurls his back, standing at least nine feet tall and easily as wide as an elephant, probably just as strong too. I glance at his enlarged hands hanging from his sides awkwardly. His palm is perhaps as large as my face. Just the thought of his physical strength causes me to recoil. His pointy chin is elongated, with a tuft of hair at its end. His beady, jet-black eyes warily judge me. Micah shoves his knees into the back of my legs, causing them to buckle before slamming me hard onto the ground. What is it with this sonofabitch! Can’t he just ask me to do something?! I lower my gaze, staring at the slick, onyx marble my knees are forced to rest upon.