all the way free of the car.
“Lennox, run,” Rogan grunts out. He suddenly starts to push me away from him.
“What the—” I object as I pull on him even harder, confused.
“Run,” he orders more adamantly. “They’re trying to surround us.”
Panicked, my head snaps up, and I look all around us. “Who is?” I demand when I don’t see anything there.
“Circummancers!” he snaps, the word filled with fury and alarm.
Vicinal Witches, my mind supplies, pulling the name from lessons I didn’t think mattered as a kid. And then it all dawns on me. The freak wind that shoved us off the road, the strange current I can feel vibrating in the ground, the sense that I’m running out of time. We’re being attacked by elemental magic users, and they’re about to lock us into a grid.
“Fucking hell!” I grunt, yanking hard on Rogan and freeing him from the car the rest of the way.
The lesson from my early teenage years comes rushing back. I can hear my Grammy’s voice explaining to us the history of witch battles and how they were fought. I remember pretending to be as into it as Tad was as she detailed how groups of witches liked to fight.
“One on one, the odds are more even,” Grammy agreed when Tad asked why witches didn’t duel like they did back in the olden days. “But no one likes to lose, Tadpole, which is why magic users prefer strength in numbers,” she explained, as if it were the most riveting story she ever told.
“Witches like to surround and attack, creating a force, a grid, where magic bounces off of other witches. That way the magic becomes stronger and more lethal,” she declares as she mimes a sword fight. “In a grid, it doesn’t matter if your magical blow or attack misses its mark. The magic bounces around inside the circle until it hits someone, or a partner-witch takes it and combines the force with their attack, until BOOM!” she shouts, and it makes me and all of my cousins jump in surprise.
Her voice fades as our childish giggles fill my mind, and loss constricts around me, so tight that it all at once makes it hard to breathe. I recall her telling us that normally witches can’t feed off of each other like that. That our magic is usually only our magic, but witches and covens have found ways around that. I learned that day that amulets that protect and temporarily link witches to a partner in a group have been a game changer when it comes to fighting, and now Rogan and I are about to experience firsthand why you never want to be in the center of a grid.
Fear rushes through me. I feel like cornered prey that needs to frantically look for a way out. Rogan and I aren’t completely defenseless, but in order to even the odds and level the playing field, we have to destroy the protective amulets the witches are wearing before our magic will have any kind of impact. When you’re being attacked from all sides, shit gets complicated and deadly, fast.
I want to ask who they are and why they’re doing this to us, but it doesn’t matter right now. Whether they’re linked to the kidnappings or a rogue coven that we just happened upon, who and why will be left to sort out after we survive.
Now, to keep them from getting into formation.
The starting beats of Beyonce’s “Formation” sound off in my mind, but I don’t have enough time to high-five my weird sense of humor; I need to come up with some kind of plan.
Rogan reaches over from where we’re both sitting in the dirt just outside of the mangled car. His breathing is labored as he places a warm hand on my forearm, and I know that his lung is messed up from the rib bone I pulled out and fixed before he woke up. The distinct tingling sensation of magic being pushed into me spreads throughout my body.
The blood magic seeps into my veins, swirls through my stomach, and clears my head. The throbbing in my temple and behind my eyes disappears, and I pull in a deep, grateful, pain-free breath. The bruises that peppered my body vanish, taking with them even more hurt and stiffness. The slow steady flow of blood that’s been trickling down the side of my face ceases. My cheek cools, and it’s as though I can feel Rogan putting a stopper in