Witch Born(90)
Her necklace. The necklace that allowed the two halves to always find each other. Somewhere, Joshen had the other half. Senna swayed on her feet. And now Cord was linked to her even more intimately. “Aware of me how?”
Ellesh shrugged. “He will be able to feel your location.”
“How?”
“Through the connection forged between your blood.”
She turned her fierce glare to Cord. “You knew!”
He stared at the floor.
Joshen. She was bound to a Guardian, and it wasn’t Joshen. She ran to the basin of water Ellesh had used before. Senna snatched the soap and scrubbed her skin. Bloody bubbles formed, turning the water pink. She clawed at her arm, trying to scratch the crescent off. Her skin welted and turned bright red, but the mark didn’t budge.
Cord’s hand closed around her arm. “Senna, it won’t come off.”
At his touch, something rushed inside her. A foreign awareness. A bundle of emotions. Dread and hope and a cautious longing.
She sagged against the basin, water soaking into the front of her tunic. She could cut her arm off, but it wouldn’t break the connection. It was in her blood. “I can feel you.”
The pendant felt impossibly heavy around Senna’s neck. Joshen’s ring on her finger seemed to tighten as if sensing the betrayal. “Why? Why would you do this to me?”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It was me or someone else. I couldn’t bear for it to be someone else.”
Her hands curled into tight fists. “So it was a kindness? To tether me forever to yourself?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. She felt his regret building inside her mind. It was a dim echo of emotion, a shadow of true feeling.
Somehow, she was going to escape. She was going to find a way to warn the other Witches. And she was going to free herself from this link.
“Cord?” Ellesh said.
He stared at the floor. “She’s plotting her escape.”
Senna gasped soundlessly.
Ellesh nodded. “Make sure she fails.”
She was as shackled as if she was gagged and bound. Shifting her weight, she hauled back her arm and punched Cord in the jaw. He saw it coming and he probably felt her intent, but he didn’t try to avoid the blow.
Pain erupted in Senna’s hand. Resisting the urge to cradle it against her body, she ignored the sharp pain echoing from Cord’s jaw and stormed past them. She paused at the door. “You’re worse than the Haven Witches have ever been. Both of you.”
Cord didn’t look up from the floor. Ellesh had the grace to look abashed. “It was necessary,” she said. “I cannot risk killing or harming a Creator-touched.”
Senna stormed out of the tree.
Their voices followed her out. “Cord?”
“She’s doesn’t have a plan. She’s just running.”
“Follow her.”
He came after her.
She knew because she felt him. As she felt the direction of the sun by the heat on her body, she knew Cord was three steps behind her and a little to the left. But that wasn’t all. Cord’s emotions seeped inside her. And right now it was so hard to tell where his emotions ended and hers began.
Her body. Her mind. They weren’t her own anymore.
She broke into a run to escape the horror, but how could she evade her own blood?
28. Blood Curse
Senna hugged her knees to her chest. Her cheeks felt tight where the salty tracks of her tears had dried. She looked down at the city of Lilette—part city, part forest. The setting sun cast a golden haze over the scene.
She felt Cord behind her, close enough to stop her should the sudden urge to jump off the cliff come to mind—his thought, not hers. Grunting, she stared at the drop a few paces away. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. She could launch herself off, feel the rush of the wind all around her, then nothing.
She felt Cord’s concern grow. With the scrape of gravel under his sandals, he sat within arm’s reach. Her body went rigid. Her hand still ached from hitting him. She didn’t think it was broken, just sprained. Still it had been worth it. It might be worth it to do it again.
“No.” His voice sounded rough. “It still feels like you dislocated my jaw. And you need at least one serviceable hand.”
She glared at him, wanting so badly to hit him again.
“I won’t let you,” he said softly.
She winced—he’d read her thoughts again, while she was trying her best to ignore the hints of emotions and hurt seeping through. But if he could manipulate the connection, so could she. She concentrated on the small swirl of emotions mixing with hers like a drop of milk in hot tea. His jaw did hurt, right at the joint. He was overwhelmed and frightened, and so very sorry.