Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Headmistress, what you felt was a prophecy coming true,” he began and then told about how he and I had sneaked into the South tower to read Corinne Latimer’s grimoire and what we had learned.
Headmistress Nightworthy’s eyes got wider and wider though she didn’t say a word. But when he came to the part about Winifred Rattcliff capturing us all and bringing us to the Hallowed Glade where she shut Griffin and me into a sack, expecting him to kill me, the Headmistress held up a hand to stop Avery.
“Wait a minute—are you actually telling me that a senior witch—the leader of the most powerful Coven in the entire South Eastern Territory, was plotting to have two of my students killed?”
She sounded extremely skeptical, one eyebrow raised, as though this was just a step too far for belief, despite the strange things she saw all around her.
“Ask her yourself,” I said, joining the conversation for the first time. I looked at Griffin. “My thumb has stopped bleeding—can you help me?”
“Of course, my little witch.” He took my hand in both of his and brought it to his mouth. This time I let him bite me instead of just cutting myself on his fangs and to my surprised pleasure, it worked—maybe because we were now Blood-Bound. For whatever reason, the moment I felt his fangs sink into my wrist and the rush of pleasure that accompanied the sharp little pain, I also felt my power flowing at the same time.
Pointing at Winifred Rattcliff, I said, “Veritas!” using her own spell on her. For good measure I added, “Tell the truth!” which I hoped would cover everything.
Headmistress Nightworthy frowned at my obvious use of Blood magic—not to mention the fact that a Nocturne biting a Witch intimately was probably really against the rules—but she didn’t say anything about it. Instead she turned to Winifred Rattcliff, who was still frozen in place and asked,
“Winifred—is all this true?”
I saw the senior witch’s mouth working and knew she wanted to lie—or at least twist the truth to her own ends. But in the end the spell I had cast on her was too strong and she was forced to answer truthfully.
“Yes,” she said, frowning. “The girl is the answer to the prophecy—the curse—that Corinne Latimer, her ancestor, laid on our coven many hundreds of years ago. Megan Latimer is the reincarnation of the Witch Queen and this Nocturne whelp is her Blood Knight!”
She spat the words angrily, as though it pissed her off to have to say them—to acknowledge our new status—and then glared viciously at Griffin and me. If looks could kill, we would both have been stone dead but thankfully all she could do was stare.
If Headmistress Nightworthy was surprised by this stunning revelation, she only showed it by blinking and shaking her head a little.
“That is…most illuminating, thank you, Winifred,” she said formally. “But when I asked if everything Mr. Connor here,” (she nodded at Avery) “Has been telling me is the truth, what I was asking is—did you really hatch a plot to kill two of my students and then drag them out to the Hallowed Glade—or what remains of it—to carry out that plot?”
Again the senior witch’s mouth worked and she looked so angry I thought she might almost start hissing and spitting like a cat.
“Yes!” she nearly shrieked, at last, when the truth spell finally forced her to talk. “Yes, I was going to have both of them killed! First I was going to force the Nocturne to drink her blood and drain her dry and then I was going to have him brought to trial and put to death for his crimes.”
“Speaking of those alleged crimes,” Griffin said dryly, “I believe that the ones I have been punished for these last fifteen years are due to your account, not mine. Why don’t you tell the Headmistress about that?”
Headmistress Nightworhty’s eyebrows shot up.
“Winifred?” she asked, staring at the senior witch.
“I…I…”
Winifred’s face twisted and contorted. This time she was really fighting it. I could see her mouth working almost as though she was having some kind of fit. But the truth spell seemed to work on her almost like a magical case of Tourette’s Syndrome so that she finally started spitting out the facts like bullets.
“Yes, I did it!” she finally shouted. “I found two young Norms hitchhiking along the road and I took them to the woods where I knew their bodies would be found. Then I put a sleep spell on Darkheart and killed both the girls. I drained their blood and smeared plenty of it on his mouth and hands. When he was found, it looked like he had killed them. I tried to have him put to death, but that damned Fae attorney his father hired got him off. So instead I had to be-spell a magical lock to put around his neck and keep him from drinking any blood. I threw the key to the lock into the ocean and I thought he would be unable to drink blood forever! But then that little bitch found it—found it and brought it right into your school!” she snarled, glaring at me.