Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A woman entered the room behind Catriona. She appeared to be of Haitian descent, but I couldn't tell her age, seeming both young and old at the same time—or maybe perhaps younger in appearance . . . yet with an air of knowledge. Her black hair stood wildly out from her head in some sort of long, untamed afro, and a loose flowing, light blue calico dress swirled down her slim frame, stopping near her ankles and revealing her bare feet beneath.

The fact she was carrying a headless chicken in her hands, letting the blood drip across the floor as she moved through the room, wasn't the most disturbing thing to me.

Her eyes were. They were solid white—no irises or pupils—yet, she looked at me with an unnervingly, blank stare.

"This is Mayla," Cat said with a smile as the woman approached my side. "She's a Hoodoo Priestess. Her coven has been helping me."

Watching Mayla with wariness, she raised the dead chicken, letting its blood run over the top of me, and if I could've moved, I would've flinched in disgust. In a low voice, she began to mutter in a language I couldn't comprehend. Demon features suddenly flashed across her face, turning her grotesquely white eyes, completely red in the process.

Great, I thought. It wasn't bad enough these people dealt in black magic; they were demons too.

Moving away, Mayla went to one of the many well-stocked shelves, and reaching high, grabbed a wooden bowl of some sort. She placed the dish on a small table and drained the rest of the chicken blood into it.

When she was finished, she tossed the carcass to the side, and then removed several bags of herbs and began placing a pinch from each into her bloody concoction. She mixed the ingredients together by dipping her hand in and letting the liquid run through her fingers, before carrying the dish back to me. Commencing her mutterings once more, she submerged a finger into the bowl, and then started marking my forehead, wrists, and ankles.

Catriona ripped the neckline of Vance's t-shirt, the only thing I'd been wearing when she kidnapped me, until it was just an inch above my breast. Mayla reached inside and placed a blood mark over my heart.

Cat adjusted my I.V. tubing so it flowed faster, and immediately the weakness seeped through me again. "Open your mouth, Portia," she instructed harshly, and I couldn't help but notice the wicked glint in her eye.

"No." Clamping my jaw tightly shut, I realized with queasiness they intended to make me drink the grotesque mixture.

Cat moved to my head, using her hands to force my mouth open. I struggled against her and Mayla joined her, tipping the dish to begin pouring the blood concoction down my throat. Frantically, I fought the invasion; spitting and coughing the vile fluid back out, not wanting to swallow.

Quickly, Cat slipped into my mind, giving me an illusion of something sweet tasting, and making me feel like I wanted to drink, but I still fought against it. I would've screamed, had I been able to, but they were drowning me with the potion.

"Drink it, Portia!" Cat yelled over Mayla's chanting as I struggled.

Mayla kept pouring, and my lungs seemed like they would burst from lack of oxygen. Involuntarily, I gasped for a breath of air, instead sucking the mixture thickly into my airways and down my throat.

A sensation of fire shot through me and I did scream this time, spraying the blood Mayla still poured into me all over her and Catriona. The spots on my skin that had been marked began burning with an intensity I couldn't stand, and it felt as if I were being ripped into two pieces.