Chapter 23
Rage boiled through my veins, giving me a sudden burst of power, which heavily fueled my adrenaline. I crossed the empty street and flung the bar door wide open, stepping inside only to see the bartender cleaning after he closed.
"We're closed," he said automatically, before looking up.
I was next to him in a flash. "Where are they?" I said, grabbing him around the neck with my hand and lifting him off the floor with a little push of power.
"I can't," he choked out, his face reddening under my grip. "They'll kill me if I tell you."
"And I'll kill you if you don't," I snarled back at him, feeling angry enough to actually do it.
His eyes darted away from me, and I followed his quick glance toward the back of the bar. I butted his head against the shelves, and he sank to the floor. Quickly, I made my way toward the storage area and peeked around the corner.
I could see one of Shelly's groupies leaning against a door, smoking a cigarette. He hadn't heard me because of the ear buds he was wearing. I could hear the music from here. Since he was facing away from me, I snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, I punched him right in the face with all the magical force I had. I felt bone crunch beneath my fist, and he sank to the floor.
Pushing him out of the way, I opened the door to reveal a wooden staircase, which descended into the black earth. I couldn't see any kind of light, and I had no idea what was down there. Quietly, I tiptoed down the stairs, making as little noise as possible. I levitated over three stairs at a time and pushed off the fourth. Finally, I reached the bottom, finding myself in a dark, narrow hallway.
I walked toward a dim, glowing red light I could see coming from what looked like the crack at the bottom of a door. When I reached it, I stopped and listened, holding my breath.
I could hear nothing.
There were only two choices left for me now. I could go through the door or go back the way I'd come and call for help. Slowly, I turned the handle of the door, and silently swung it open. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, and then I gasped at the sight before me.
Vance was sitting in the middle of the dimly lit room under a small red light bulb hanging from a string. He was bound in irons and strapped to a chair. The manacles holding him in place were obviously magically reinforced, a slight greenish glow emanating from them. Stripped to the waist, his head drooped against his chest. Slashes and bite marks covered his arms, and his veins were pitch-black, running up his neck toward his face.
"Vance?" I called in a choked whisper, repulsed by the damage.
His head slowly lifted toward mine, and his glowing, blood-red eyes stared straight into my soul.
"Run!" was all he said, and I covered my mouth with my hands to stop the scream that threatened to escape.
I did run—toward him, throwing myself at his feet and trying to find a way to loosen his bonds. He slumped over in the chair again.
"Hang in there, Vance," I said frantically, hoping no one could hear the noise I was making, but then I heard a sound behind me. I jumped up, swinging around and coming face to face with Shelly.
"He's mine now!" she spat viciously.
"I don't think so!" I flung my hand out with a burst of magic and sent her flying across the room.
YOU ARE READING
The Trouble with Spells
Teen FictionWhat does every young girl wish for on her sixteenth birthday? Not to be told she's a witch, that's for sure! But what if it comes with powers, a hot romance, and exciting adventure? - Of Witches and Warlocks Series Book One, The Trouble with Spells...