Page 7 of Of Flame and Fury
“Celia is here?” Bren asks slowly. He watches Emme walk away, appearing confused and unsure how he arrived here.
Like me, he seemed to forget all about Celia. He shakes his head, trying to clear it. I feel the need to do the same. It dawns on me I left the party specifically to meet Celia and make sure she was okay. As alarming as it was to find Emme and Bren alone, their presence shouldn’t have distracted me so profoundly.
“Like I said, T,” Bren begins. “The witch mojo is really sinking its teeth into us.”
He means the disorientation spell, but there seems more to it than mere magic. There’s a familiarity threaded into it, not witch, exactly, but something or someone else I know.
I rub my eyes, feeling tired and too distracted to care how much it smears my makeup. “You may be right,” I say. I walk to him, stopping in front of him and jabbing my finger into his chest. “That doesn’t mean I’ll forget what I saw here.”
I shoot him one last glare before I hurry after Emme. Bren follows, his large feet stomping behind me. He’s worked up, and so is Emme. I hate it and hate the wedge it’s driving between us even more.
Emme used to tell us everything. In her own quiet and shy way, of course, but she never hid things from us. Now, she’s so tight-lipped, I couldn’t pry her mouth open with a crowbar. I may end up talking to Bren alone. Maybe he’ll be the one to crack.
“Emme,” I call out. I frown when the hall darkens, and she appears to flutter farther and faster away from us. “Emme, don’t go without us.”
She takes off, running.
“Em,” Bren hollers. “God damn it, wait!”
Emme rounds a corner and disappears into yet another hall. I pick up my pace, passing a small meeting room. Emme is moving fast, too fast. What’s happening to her?
My steps falter when the light sconces dim further. I turn around, the rooms we passed are gone. There are no doors or windows, only a long corridor with dark paneling remains.
Everything feels off, and I can no longer hear the gentle strut of Emme’s feet.
“Bren?” I say.
“She’s gone,” he says.
“I know, but—”
“She’s been gone a while,” he interrupts. He takes a long whiff. “That wasn’t her.”
“Excuse me?” I look back to where I thought I last saw her. “Then, who was that?”
“Not Emme,” he says, the muscles along his jaw tensing. He clasps my left arm. “Come on. We have to find her.”
I double back and into a wall.
“What the fuck?” Bren snaps.
The hall narrows, and darkness swallows what used to be the way out.
Bren’s head jerks up. “Did you hear that?”
“I don’t hear anything,” I respond.
It’s the truth. There is no sound. Just me and Bren and our increasing breaths.
“What do you hear?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
He closes his eyes, listening hard, the rise and fall of his chest growing more pronounced.
A light whisper of wind rustles from the darkness, intensifying into a pained moan as it reaches us.
“Aw, hell,” Bren says. “Stay with me, okay?”
“Ah, sure,” I say, trying to remain calm and more than failing. I can’t see well in here, and I’m not certain Bren can either. I turn around when I feel something stir behind us. “Do you think the spells are just surging now that Celia has arrived? They’re meant to keep her safe. Maybe they’re reacting to her presence.”