Chapter 2263

Roger gave the girls some credit. For new witches they had reacted far quicker than he thought they would. The snarled evil words that caused blood to spew from their mouths along with the white of shattered teeth erupted as a tangible presence and a vibration you felt in your bones. The evil and hatred on the faces of the women was a sight most people would see as their last. The blood pouring down their chins made it all so macabre. But Roger grinned as he drew his bow to its full extension. He put his mind on the arrow and willed it to be what he wanted it to be. He had done this countless times before.

Glenda was faster than the girls, of course. She created a shield he could barely see around her as black oily smoke shot from the witches toward her. The shield seemed to make Roger sense and love Glenda all the more. Glenda winced hard. Then the witches'spell splashed uselessly against the shield and a loud male moan was heard from the grimoire.

Roger released his arrow. It flew toward the four girls and then immediately split into four bright

streaks of light. Roger felt the arrow take from his own strength and he staggered. The light arrows struck the girls in the sides of their heads and exploded out the opposite side of their skulls in a spray of blood, bone, and brains.

The four girls dropped lifeless to the ground. The grimoire screeched in his mind with anger and hatred.

Now they surely burn in Hades. By the gods,I wish I didn't know they did, but they do, and I know. Those poor bastards.

Goosebumps rose on his skin, and Roger grimaced and looked around the room. Glenda nodded at him signalling they were clear. The witches were gone. The bow in Roger's hand returned to a small piece of wood and he put it in his pocket.

Glenda helped Roger pour lantern oil over the bodies in the town hall. Roger kept glancing at the grimoire, still sitting open on the lectern. A shimmer was the only thing that gave away that Glenda had locked it inside a field of immense power.

Glenda had been shocked at the power behind the witches'single desperate attack. They had cast it far too quickly for her liking. The spell would have sucked the soul from her body. Of all the shields she could have selected at the moment of their attack, she had thankfully selected the one that would block the spell they had used. She had formed her shield with a tiny piece of her soul, and it had hurt beyond words. Her soul would replenish but it would take years. She hadn't hesitated. The grimoire was a deadly thing; boosting the power of witches beyond what should be possible. She could hear it whispering at her, even now. Begging to be picked up. Then demanding it. Then begging again. It was unrelenting and insidious.

Once the oil was poured, Glenda stood up tall and stretched with her hands pressed into the small of her aching back.

"You got this?" asked Roger.

"Yes, love," replied Glenda and pulled out asmall, seemingly ordinary dagger.

Roger nodded at her."Okay."

Brian and Jennifer had given her the blade unexpectedly before she had left Whitehaven. They said Syn had blessed it for one purpose. Glenda walked over to the grimoire and glared down at the open pages. She avoided trying to read it. It looked evil and the words moved on their own on the yellowed pages. Pages made from human skin.

The seductive whispers increased in speed and intensity. She was promised power, wealth, beauty, and immortality. The adoration of thousands would be at her beck and call. She only had to reach out and claim the book for herself. It wanted her to. Welcomed her. Encouraged her. Images of cheering and loving fans came unbidden to her mind. Strong men who would pleasure her.

"Sorry,"she smiled at the book."I already havemy Roger. His love and adoration are all I will ever need. I don't want for anything else."

She raised the dagger, whispered a few words to Syn just in case it helped, and plunged it deep into the pages of the book over and over. A psychic scream erupted, and Glenda flinched at the painful sound. She glanced at Roger and saw

him crouched down covering his ears and screaming. Glenda felt warm liquid fill and pour from her ears.

Blood, thick and smelling of the worst kind of decay, sprayed out of the stabbed pages. Glenda forced her mouth shut as the blood sprayed across her. Thirteen stabs per side of the open book completed, Glenda then used the dagger point to flip the book closed and drove the dagger down into it to the hilt and left it there. The screaming grew quieter, and the blood stopped pumping. Soon it was nothing more than a book. Blood dripped from the lectern to the stage.

Glenda felt a presence suddenly appear within the townhall. She looked about quickly, her hand darting into her component bag. She could see Roger pouring oil over the corpses of the town's people. The presence was hidden. Like when she travelled out of body. But this presence was old. Very old. Not human. Angry. Suddenly, she knew who it was.

Maeve? she thought. Why is she here so far from the Wilds and so furious?

Just as quickly as the presence had been felt by her, it streaked away to the west. Glenda took a shuddering breath, feeling she had escaped something horrible.

What was that about? she thought as she looked down at the grimcire. It can't be, but maybe?

Glenda grabbed the bloody book with a silk cloth and walked over and dropped it on the corpses of the slain witches. It landed wetly in the oil covering them. She nodded at Roger, and when he rose, they walked holding each other for support to the exit. Roger paused, knelt down, and quickly struck a stream of sparks with flint and steel. The bright sparks flew and landed in the oil, most extinguished but a few burnt true, and a loud woof of displaced air was heard as the oil ignited.

The flames raced across the oil and engulfe d all the bodies and licked up the wooden walls. Curtains caught fire and the flames reached higher, hungrily devouring all within reach. Glenda nodded in satisfaction as the witches and the book erupted in flame.

Glenda and Roger exited the townhall and

closed the doors. They walked to the centre of the square and sat on the ground and held hands watching the flames shoot out the roof of the building. In time, the bell in the spire fell with a loud clang and clatter and then all that could be heard was the flames. Black smoke billowed high into the air and blew away from them with the winds.

Glenda smiled, not realising how horrendous she looked covered in spattered blood."Feel that?"

Roger nodded.

Glenda sniffed the air. "The evil is gone. What a relief."

"I'm glad that's over. That book has plagued usfor decades."

Glenda merely nodded and thought about Maeve before taking his hand in her bloody one. She stared down at, knowing every mark and scar on his hand like it was her own. She loved this hand.

"Where to now?" he asked.

"Back to Whitehaven. We must warn the othersabout my vision."

A lo ne gull cried out and flew over the harbour.

DANIEL WAS PLEASED about one thing. Sure, he was trapped in the lands of the Light fae, but he was trapped in a luxurious room with his witches by his side. Titania had relented with Grace on one thing and had removed them from the Pit. It was still a prison, just not dark and cold as the Pit.

He lay in the dark listening to the soft breathing of his girls. Jasmine was on top of him as usual, pressing him into the mattress, and drooling on his shoulder. Amy lay against his right arm, and Amber against his left. His manacled hands lay under Jasmine.

His mind churned with questions. Nothing seemed to follow logic or reason. The Light fae never seemed right in the head to him. He wouldn't call them evil, but he only felt death around them. With Grace he felt life and hope. Most people felt the fae were beyond human

understanding and whatever drove them was beyond instinctual to them and humans would never understand what was so clear to them. Daniel couldn't get past that they longed for war. They embraced it like children waiting for the harvest celebrations.

Grace had shrugged when pressed by him one day to help him understand.

"It is what it is," she had replied, playing with hisnipples as they lay in bed at the Academy so many months ago. It tickled like crazy, but he always welcomed her touch.

"What kind of answer is that?" he had replied.Grace had a way of dodging questions. He had learned to keep pressure on her until she relented. Sometimes it worked.

Probably only when she allows it, too, he thought.

Grace reached between his thighs and gathered up his semi-hard cock and rubbed a thumb viciously across the head, still slick from their recent love making.

Daniel hissed at the intense pleasure her action pulsed through him."By the gods, stop that!"

Grace giggled. That never got old to Daniel. Grace giggling could either be the worst thing you ever heard or the best thing. To Daniel, it made him smile. Alone, Grace and he had a special relationship. He loved his witches more than his own life, but with Grace it went beyond that into something he couldn't understand. Ever since he had laid eyes on her in that dingy Acron tavern, he had known they were destined to be together.

Well, maybe I never imagined lying next to her covered in sweat and tasting the lingering flavour of her sex in my mouth, but I knew she and I were connected somehow.

"I want a real answer, Grace. What drives you towar with each other every hundred years?"

Grace gently stroked his cock and Daniel felt himself harden under her expert touch. "Seriously, it is what it is. It's our nature. The faemake the cycles of life and death occur. Without our effort, life as you know it would cease to exist. Night fae magic touches all life and pulls it

toward the door to death as all life must one day end and pass through the portal. The Light fae reach into that darkness and pull life into creation."