Thorns & Blood Read online

  Chapter Three

  I slumped against the backseat, shifting to ease the magical handcuffs from cutting into my skin, while the officer drove us deeper into downtown. Guilt squeezed my chest, and it felt as if I couldn't take a deep enough breath. What had I been thinking? How could I have let my spell morph and kill all those people?

  Tears pricked my eyes and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. The ASH car rumbled down the road toward headquarters on the other side of town. I couldn't tap into my zenyar with this enchanted metal snapped on my wrists. Here I was, half-witch and half-wizard, and unable to break out of a confinement. Headquarters would book me, find a lawyer for me if I didn’t have one, and set a date for my trial. Somehow I would have to convince the judges of my innocence. What if they ruled it as involuntary murder? Sure, it was an accident and I had been defending myself, but I still killed all those people. Sorrow swam in my stomach and I swallowed back the bile that burned the back of my throat.

  How was I going to get out of this mess?

  If my baton hadn’t been confiscated, I could’ve merged both halves of my magic and escape that way. But that was like mixing lightning and oil and napalm. They just didn't play well together and honestly, I had no idea if I'd survive it, much less whether it would level the entire city to a crater. Which is what my mother told me would happen if I ever let the swirling zenyar inside me come together.

  Last time a witchard had done that was 50,000 years ago near Winslow, Arizona. It had wiped out a metropolis city, leaving a hole two miles across and over five hundred feet deep. Some people said it was a meteor, but I knew the truth. My folks had taken a trip out there when I was ten, before puberty struck me, and the remains of zenyar even thousands of years later itched along my skin. Feeling that sticky Black Death crawling through the dirt helped me keep my magic separate inside me during the chemical and biological changes during my teens. Because I didn’t want to cause that kind of damage nor feel that kind of darkness and evil again.

  The ASH vehicle jerked to a stop, and I slid forward, nearly crashing into the clear plastic divider.

  “Watch it,” I grumbled.

  Stern-face officer didn't even blink. “What's it matter to you? As soon as the council finds out what you've done, you be lucky if you can get a job scrubbing toilets much less having any zenyar to float a dust bunny.”

  He laughed at his own joke, and I kicked his seat while he gunned the engine and we tore down the road.

  “It wasn't me!” Goddess why would no one listen? I had to get out of this and return to the scene before the Terin’s residue was gone. With it, I might figure out what went wrong and not have it happen again when I caught the bitch's grandson. “A Terin trapped me and my zenyar backlashed.”

  “Bullshit!” He jerked the wheel, and I went sailing into the side door. “Never heard of a Terin and nothing but your tainted dual magic as a witchard could do what happened back there. Keep this up and the judges will send your ass to the electric chair.”

  And I bet the guy would happily flip the switch and fry me. Let him try. The execution method had safeguards to control the most powerful witch or wizard so they wouldn’t have to worry about my magic spiraling out of control.

  We swerved onto the freeway, and I sat back against the seat. No way would this guy believe anything I said, but I had to convince the three judges who would rule during my trial. What if there were more Terins out there, sucking up magic users? At best, they were a magical parasite. At worst, if someone didn’t get away, like I had, how many more people would die in the process since no one seemed to believe Terins existed? Had all others before me not been so lucky and died?

  We pulled into ASH headquarters, a blue and grey warehouse building. The officer parked, opened my door, and hauled me out of the car. He shoved me up the ramp and inside.

  “Hey, I can walk on my own.” I jerked out of his grasp, but he snatched me back, his grip squeezing my arm harder this time. “I've got these,” I held up my cuffed hands. “Can't go anywhere with these clunky things.”

  “Not gonna risk you trying to escape.” He led me to a long counter where several officers checked people in.

  My handcuffs, well, one of them, was removed so I could be fingerprinted, and then it clicked back into place immediately afterward. My mug shot was taken, and I was given a nice bright blue jumpsuit.

  “When can I speak to my lawyer?” Not that I even knew one but figured in this situation, exaggerations were better than the truth.

  “Sure, we'll call your lawyer for you while you clean up and dress in your new uniform.” A thin officer with an eye patch smiled, but her gaze said she'd rather rip my heart out.

  I was pushed and prodded along with six other women into a public shower area.

  “Strip!” the officer belched.

  A hose blasted us with soapy water. I shivered, the cold making my bones hurt. Dressed in the baggy jumpsuit, I was escorted to a cell.

  “Hey wait, I didn't get my phone call.”

  A hand jammed against my back, knocking me forward inside my jail. I leaped up and charged to the opening, but patch gal slammed the cage shut, nearly slicing my nose off with it.

  “Enjoy your stay.” She grinned and walked off.

  “Hey!” I banged the cage and a bolt of electricity zapped me for my trouble. Figures they'd put me in a magical cage. The bars were enriched with all types of zenyar to prevent anyone from using their magic to escape. Damn it, I was innocent. No way would I have done what I’d done if I’d known it would cost others their lives. And now I was facing trial, where they might just decide I was too dangerous not to kill. I shook from a mixture of rage and fear, and I sat down on the metal-framed bed. My cell was four by four feet. A thread-worn cot that smelled of urine and vomit shared the space with me. Two other cells connected to mine stood empty.

  I tapped my bare heels while I ran a hand over my face. Somehow I had to put this right. Not just my arrest, but I had to fight for justice for the victims’ families.

  A short time later, Eye Patch strolled in carrying chains with two sets of handcuffs.

  “Sorry, I'm not into kinky things like that. And you're not my type.”

  “Time for your trial.” She rattled the leg irons at me.

  “What?” I stood and clenched my fists. “No! I didn't get my goddamn phone call.”

  She whistled and an officer that looked like a shaved white gorilla marched forward. Patch unlocked the door with an expression like a kid who has just been told to smash all the glass in a China shop for a prize.

  I squared my shoulders and lifted my fists. “I'm not going anywhere with you until I've spoken with my lawyer.”

  Gorilla man grabbed me. His steel grip locked my arms at my sides. I kicked his shins as hard as I could, but with bare feet, I only succeeded in bruising my heels.

  “I'm going to enjoy watching them fry you.” Patch whispered in my ear and I tried to knee her, but she snagged my ankle instead. I kicked, squirming to get away, but she fastened the metal around one leg then the other. “Give me one of her arms.”

  With a grunt, Gorilla spun me, wrenching one of my arms out. The cuff clicked into place.

  “Me and my lawyer will sue everyone here. I have rights!” Despite my struggling, my last free hand was cuffed. A chain connected the leg irons on my ankles with my wrists. It was spelled so that not only wouldn't my magic work, but I couldn't physically move my arms or legs unless instructed by the officers the chair was attuned to.

  “Let's go, witchard.” Gorilla man shoved a hand against my back and I stumbled forward.

  Dread coiled in my stomach. Would they bypass the council like they had my phone call, and electrocute me without any trial?

  As we walked down a cemented hallway, I hunted for a way to escape. We turned down a dark corridor and my nerves went into overdrive. “Listen, we can talk about this. I won't tell anyone what you've done. Back in my cell we can have a nice laugh while you let me ring my—”

  An eeriness flickered over my skin, like spider webs brushing across my flesh... everywhere.

  “Shut up and keep moving,” Patches barked.

  The chains forced me forward, controlling my steps, and I shuffled against the tethered restraints.

  Gorilla opened a steel door that was at least three inches thick.

  Darkness lay beyond and there weren't any windows. Fuck! This must be where the executions take place.

  Not being able to do anything else, I yelled, “No! I haven't seen the council! Help me.” My insides twisted as I fought not to move into where I made out the silver gleam of a chair in the middle of the room. It was made of silver, so even shifters wouldn’t be able to change and escape.

  Wires poked down from the ceiling. Straps hung from the chair, ready to fasten the head, neck, chest, arms and legs together while the electricity and wizard lightning fried a person so bad that even their mother wouldn't recognize the charred remains. My throat tightened at the thought.

  “If you kill me then I will haunt you in this life and every damn resurrected one you both have,” I seethed. But my heart pounded so loudly that I thought my body would save them the trouble by giving me a heart attack. No such luck though as they dragged me toward my execution. I screamed. This wasn’t my time to die.

  Chapter Four

  The metal vibrated as Patches and Gorilla latched me to the electric chair. I couldn’t move my legs and arms, which were trapped by the zenyar-enchanted cuffs and ankle irons. Gorilla guy pushed against my shoulders, while Patches secured the chest restraint strap. I head-butted him in the temple and he recoiled, pressing a hand to his forehead.

  “Stupid bitch.” He backhanded me so hard my teeth buzzed, and I tasted blood.
I spat in his face.

  “Patrick, stay calm.” She laid a hand on his arm. “She'll get what's coming to her soon enough.”

  My teeth still ached along with the side of my face. “Listen, I didn't kill those people. It was a Terin.”

  Not listening to me, Gorilla forced my head back, his iron fingers pressing into my skull, but I strained against him. He wanted to have me unable to move at all. Panic swelled under my breastbone.

  “You’re not listening to me,” I bellowed. “It took my zenyar and twisted the magic all up.”

  “Save it for the gods,” he grumbled.

  “No, you can't do this.” There had to be something I could say to make them stop... make them realize they were going to kill me, and I was innocent, damn it! “You're making a mistake. Where’s my judgment hearing?” My voice echoed through the chamber. “My lawyer?”

  Patches chuckled. “She thinks everyone gets a fair trial and counsel to help them out.”

  “It's the rule,” I said and clenched my teeth.

  “Maybe for law-abiding citizens.” She shook her head and fastened the buckle around one ankle, then the other. “But not with you wiping out over a dozen people in broad daylight with twenty more witnessing you using your magic to kill those around you.”

  Just thinking about what happened to all those innocents made me nauseous. “And the Terin, the old lady siphoning my magic, don't forget to add her to your list.”

  She removed my leg irons, tugged at the straps holding my ankles and thighs down, then nodded for Patrick to take off my handcuffs. As soon as the magical metal was gone, I could move again voluntarily. Well, as much as the restraints holding me to the chair would allow. I jerked and kicked, thrashing to get away. But the locks only tightened. I drew on my zenyar, focusing the energy in my chi to saw through the bonds. Again, the straps tightened, and my skull pounded.

  Fuck! They hadn't skimped on my execution. A state of the art zenyar-blocking electric chair. I should feel privileged. Instead, terror clawed at my insides. “I curse you both with wizard's fire to eat you alive from the inside out.” I kept my voice as neutral as I could despite the tremors running up my legs. “Unless you let me go.”

  “Go? Just set you free?” Patrick puffed out a breath. “No fucking way, bitch. I just wish this thing had a reset button so I could watch you scream over and over ag—”

  “That's enough, Patrick,” a male voice boomed. “Wait outside the chamber until we call you.”

  Since I couldn't move my head because of the bar going across my forehead and the chin strap holding me in place, I strained my eyes to see who had just spoken, just out of range of my vision. The straps cut into my neck and forehead.

  Patches gave me a smug look as she and Patrick left. Their heels marched in sync across the linoleum floor until the echoes faded.

  “Hello, I'm Regan Ashworth and there has been a mistake. A Terin, some type of magical-eating monster twisted my zenyar and it backlashed on all those people.” My words tumbled out of me. Whoever was left in the room had to listen. He or she had to know it was an accident. “I haven't had my phone call or a trial.”

  “Oh, but your trial is right now,” a man with a thick Native American accent said, and stepped into view. Grey hair swept along his sideburns and his dark hair set off his too pale face.

  I inhaled sharply, and the scent of graveyard dust, like mold and decaying flesh, blood and power, rolled into me. Vampire. Legal to be and become one, provided the licensing board approved their visas, which had to be renewed every six months. Every vamp had to undergo a magician’s testing to ensure they weren’t feral or had taken blood not offered. Somehow, the government-paid zenyar weavers were able to discern that. Any caught taking blood without a permit or permission was staked on the third offense.

  His features, though slightly pale, made me think of Native Americans with his high sculpted cheekbones and slightly hooked nose. He stared at my throat with crimson eyes, and I swallowed, wincing at the dryness there. Vamps could be as bad as shifters and pounce on their prey if they showed fear. Though it was hard to keep one's back straight and look them in their undead hungry eyes knowing they wanted nothing more than to rip out the throat and drink.

  “Wh—” I coughed and tried to lifted my chin against the strap. “What about the two other tribunal members?”

  “Three,” he said, still not taking his gaze off my jugular.

  I swear my pulse jumped along the side of my neck too. “Pardon?”

  His smile made me push my back as far into the silver execution device as it could go. Double set of fangs extended. Shit, shit, shit. That meant the guy was very old to have two rows of the sharp canines. Possibly a master vamp, even. Each master had a territory they ruled. Some a town or city, others a whole damn state. So why was this one here?

  “Your trial will have four members, including myself.”

  “Doubling up on the magic users?” Most trials had three judges: a shifter, a vamp, and a witch or wizard. Since I’m a half-breed, and the zenyar shouldn't have wiped out everyone within a fifty-foot radius, I would've felt the energy pulsing if there had been a leyline nearby.

  “No,” the vamp shook his head. His voice, even without compulsion, was like liquid cashmere with that accent; I could listen to him all day and night. “Our fourth will be a human. After all, in one act, you've wiped out a dozen of their kind and have threatened our alliance with them.”

  That was me. Killer and destroyer of peace. “All right. Let me out. I'll call a lawyer and we can have a trial.” There were no guarantees that I wouldn't end up back in this exact spot, but at least now I had a chance.

  “I am unable to free you from the execution chair at this time.” He scowled and ran a hand through his gray-peppered dark hair.

  “Why the hell not?” My heart sped into warp drive.

  “Because,” another voice, this one female and familiar to me, said, “In two hours, after your judgment, the chair will electrify with or without you in it, because it’s hooked up on a timer. And since a mob has formed outside ASH headquarters demanding your death, it would be premature of us to let you out.”

  “So then fry me now. Why wait and pretend justice with a mock trial and no attorneys?” Yeah, if they were going to kill me anyway then I was going to go out on my terms.

  “No.” The woman strode into view, her high heels clicking on the linoleum tile. She wore a pressed business suit with a cerulean silk top underneath. Her dark hair was a flattop that showed off her high cheekbones and her flawless espresso colored skin.

  Holy Fuck! “Madam President?” No freaking way... the human chief of command stood in front of me.

  “Let me introduce the other judges. You've met Stryker.” She waved to someone out of my view and my guess said it was the vamp. “And this is Sarah, a wereleopard.”

  A small dark woman with her black hair in Bantu knots drifted near me and after inhaling, snorted. “She has the tangy stench of cast-off zenyar magic and death on her.”

  Yay me. This was seeming more and more like I had already been sentenced; the judges had made up their minds and all of this was merely for show.

  “And Herbert, our wizard,” the president said.

  Shuffling forward was a man with dark hair and beard that didn't match his wrinkled skin. He gave me a nod.

  “And the fourth?” My gut said that it was the President, but that was ridiculous. People died every day and she didn't attend every suspect’s trial. Last month, a bomber had killed sixty-three people at a mixers bar, a place where humans could hook up with supernaturals. They could even become a vamp’s blood-slave for the night. The guy's hearing went on for days, and the president had been off shaking hands with foreign diplomats, so why was she here?

  “I am your fourth... the human judge.”

  Okay, so I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a really shitty one. But the way my luck was going today, it was gonna be atrocious.

  “Let's get this party started.” Sarah nodded. “I don't wanna be around when that chair goes off.”

  Yeah ‘cause a fragment of silver could pop off and hit her from the volts of electricity they’d pump through me. It was the one metal that could harm any shifter. Not many knew that, but a werewolf had let it slip centuries ago, so most humans thought it only applied to them. Kinda like how iron hurts the fae.