Spell Bound Page 2

  How was I going to do this when everyone was staring at me like they wanted to murder me? This was not a good energy for any sort of magic.

  The altar was laid out before me. The simple table held my wand, candles, a cup of wine, a ceremonial sword, and a basket of bread.

  The fire crackling disguised the rustling of the paper that I shoved up my sleeve just in case I forgot the Latin. If I was assisting, I would have been able to sneak a peek. Not anymore. I was on my own. It was time to do or die.

  I glanced at my mother.

  She gave me a reassuring nod.

  For a second, I actually believe in myself. I took a deep breath before plucking my wand off the altar. I held it high, letting the power within me surge forward and extend outwards.

  Step one, raise energy. I thought to myself. I closed my eyes, the collective strength of the witches and warlocks in attendance made this part simple. The power flowed around us like waves.

  Step two, cast the circle. I gripped my wand tighter and used a sweeping motion over the heads of the others to cast a circle. The white light was weak at first but soon grew brighter. The glowing ring hovered above our heads, flickering and pulsing.

  Ok, not doing so bad. I thought to myself. Maybe this will go off without a hitch. I continued to chant and draw the sigils of power, just as I had rehearsed. Once the circle was cast, we would be encased in magical protection, and the real work would begin.

  Suddenly, the glowing circle turned red. "What?" I gasped. Did I mess up the Latin? What happened?

  Others, upon noticing that my chanting stopped, open their eyes. We all stared up and the red ring. My hand trembled. I fought to remember where I had left off in the incantation. What was happening? Was the magic tainted by the negative energy? Had a demon locked onto our location?

  Mama Moon threw up her wand and began speaking in tongues. The ring's red glow faded back to white for a second, before a wave of power knocked us back. The light burned an angry red and then exploded in a wave of heat and darkness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I couldn't remember what happened after that. One moment I was looking up at a magical circle of light, the next thing I knew was waking up in a cold, sterile room. I bolted upright, clinging to the white polyester sheet.

  "Hello?" I called out.

  No answer.

  I fumbled as I tried to get out of bed. It was then that I noticed one of my ankles was handcuffed to the railing.

  Panic set in. I pulled against the metal unsuccessfully. I kicked and pulled until my ankle was sore and bleeding. "Shit," I gasped. "Hello!" I screamed. "Anybody?" My voice echoed off the walls.

  A minute later, the metal door opened with a bang. Two men strode in with a nurse behind them. She was dressed in pink scrubs, and then men were in uniform. MCS uniforms, I knew them as well as any other magical person in this world.

  I cringed, shrinking back and smearing blood on the sheet.

  The nurse grumbled under her breath and brought a bag of bandages and cleaning supplies out.

  "No, don't touch the witch," One man said. He took off his hat and stared down at me. He had a square face with a broad nose and curled mustache. "What's your name?"

  "Who are you?" I demanded, ignoring his question.

  "Answer me first," He said.

  "Harper Valentine," I said through my teeth.

  The other MCS officer sucked in a breath. "So it was the Valentine coven." His partner silenced him with a look. He cleared his throat and looked away.

  "So, Miss Valentine," The first officer continued. "I need you to tell me what you remember from the night of the incident."

  "The incident?" I repeated.

  "Sir, you should not question her. She just woke up from the coma," The nurse interjected.

  "Did I ask you? Are you a doctor?" The officer shouted. "No? So stay out of this. This is an official investigation."

  "What?" I gasped. "A coma? What is going on?"

  "You can have your answers when I get answers, witch," The officer barked.

  My lips trembled. I would not cry in front of this jerk. "I don't remember anything," I said.

  "You sure?" He glared at me.

  The incident? To be honest, I wasn't sure what he was talking about. The last thing I could remember was the circle changing to an angry blood red. The explosion of energy. That was it. "The night of the ritual?" I asked.

  "Of course!" He shouted. He ground his teeth together furiously.

  "I don't remember," I repeated. "The last thing I saw was this red ring. Then, I woke up here."

  The MCS officer grunted and walked away from the side of my bed. His partner looked at me. Was he the good cop? Would he be nicer? Probably not.

  The nurse cleaned the blood away from the scratches on my ankle. She gently patted my skin dry and wrapped a bandage around the wound. "You should take this handcuff off of her, it's barbaric," She said to the MCS officers.

  "What if she tries to escape?" The angry officer spat. "Are you going to be the one responsible for a murderous witch on the loose."

  "Murderous?" I squeaked.

  The officer glared at me. "Right. You heard what I said. Apparently, you forgot that you murdered half your coven last week?" He sneered.

  My eyes went wide. The room became incredibly small as I fought to breathe. "I murdered my coven?"

  ***

  I was strapped to a chair in a tiny dark room. The MCS had been unceremoniously quick about getting me out of there and into a jail cell. I didn't bother fighting against the straps that held me to the cold metal. There was no use anymore.

  I had no more tears left to cry. I couldn't remember anything that happened the night of the incident, as they called it. I was being treated like a psychotic killer. I was guilty until proven innocent, but I had nothing to prove my innocence. I couldn't even remember what happened.

  My throat was raw from screaming and crying. How long had I been strapped here? Was someone going to come and get me?

  I let my head fall down and rest on my chest. I was still dressed in the white gown from the hospital. It smelled like sweat. The MCS had treated me like a dog from the moment I was out of the doctor's care.

  A short while later, the door opened.

  I looked up, blinded by the fluorescent light as it was flicked on. I flinched as the door slammed shut.

  "Valentine?" It was a man dressed in a black suit. He had sunglasses clipped on the front pocket of the jacket. His hair was cropped short, and his eyes were so dark they looked almost black. Just by the look of him, I could tell he was a powerful warlock.

  "Yes?" My voice barely sounded like myself anymore.

  He slapped a thick folder of documents on the table beside me. "My name is Agent Powel," The agent said. "I want to know about the night of the incident."

  I winced. "I know. That's what everyone wants to know. I've already said it all. The last thing I remember was the magical circle getting all screwed up. It went red, and then everything exploded."

  Agent Powel sat down and leaned closer to me. "Do you really think that we believe that? The curse that befell your coven that night was one made of pure hatred."

  "Why would I hate my coven?" I asked.

  "We searched your room, looking for evidence, and we found a lot of applications for mundane schools. Those applications, among other things, point to the fact that maybe you don't want to be a witch."

  "That's not true!" I exclaimed. "Not true," I said in a quieter voice. "I love being a witch. I just wanted to go to art school."

  "Why would a witch from the prestigious Valentine family want to go to a normal college? You're gifted in magic, your parents told me so."

  "My parents," I whispered. "Please let me see them, they'll tell you the truth!"

  "I heard everything I needed to know already. They are in shock that you would do such a thing. Your mother told me you hadn't wanted to take part in the ceremony. She didn't think your obvious disdain for cove
n rules would drive you to murder."

  "I didn't do anything. There was no curse. I was just trying to cast the circle," I whimpered. "I didn't want to kill anyone."

  The agent sighed. "You are so convinced of your own innocence, it's sad," He said. "There is so much evidence against you, and yet you still argue with me. Just admit what you did. If you plead guilty, perhaps there is some way to lessen your punishment."

  "I'm not lying," I protested.

  Agent Powel shook his head and pulled a wand from his belt. "I didn't want to have to hex the truth out of you, Harper Valentine. This is your last chance to come clean."

  I sat silently in defeat. There was nothing I could say to make him believe me.

  Agent Powel's lip curled in disgust. "How can such a powerful witch have such a weak personality. You're flimsy, like cardboard. It's disgraceful. Especially coming from a coven like yours. I guess when everything is handed to you, you don't have to try hard to be likable."

  If he was trying to get a rise out of me, it wouldn't work. I didn't have an ounce of energy left.

  He opened the folder of documents. On the top was a pile of photographs of the crime scene. Charred bodies lay between yellow markers. I flinched and shut my eyes.

  "It was the human cops that found the place. Clean up took forever. It was a fucking mess. So many witches hauled away in ambulances."

  "Stop it, please," I whispered. "I didn't do it."

  "You were holding the wand that cast the curse, Harper." He flipped to another page. There was a photo of my wand. The wood had literally burst open like a firecracker. "Is that your wand?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Then, you cast the curse."

  "No, I didn't!" I screamed. My voice cracked and went quiet.

  The warlock held his athame to my forehead. "We will get the truth out of you one way or another, Harper Valentine."

  As he chanted, a searing pain grew in my head. He was trying to pull the memories out of me. Just because I couldn't remember, didn't mean the truth wasn't locked away in my unconscious. Let him find the truth, I thought. If he could see these memories, even if the pain made me want to faint, then at least he would know I was innocent.

  Agent Powel jerked away. "I don't see anything. How did you hide the truth, witch?" He spat.

  "I didn't!" I shouted back.

  He shut the folder and let out a long breath. "You will pay for lying. The courts will be merciless. I hope you enjoy the fate that you have designed for yourself."

  ***

  I stood before the judge, my hands locked at my waist and my feet secured to the floor. I was shivering in the thin black jumper I had worn since leaving the temporary holding cell.

  There was no jury, just a brooding judge and two guards to either side of me. The prosecutor, Agent Powel, was doing most of the talking. I had no lawyer to defend me. I was on my own. The magical justice system was not very just.

  "Miss Harper Valentine," The judge spoke with a booming voice. "You stand before us today, accused of killing twelve of your coven members. Their names will now be spoken aloud."

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Hearing their names made me sick.

  "Elsie Greenbrook, Rebecca Greenbrook, Cathy Woods," The list went on. My only reprieve was that both my parents had been spared. I didn't want to think about it. The energy blast had burned them past recognition. Whatever happened that night was a powerful magical curse, nothing I was able to produce with my ceremonial magic abilities.

  "Your honor," Agent Powel said. He had pictures of the so-called crime scene in his hands. I didn't want to look at them anymore. "We have attempted to glean the truth from this witch and were unsuccessful. However, the evidence against her is undeniable. She is the one who murdered twelve coven members in cold blood. It was her wand that cast the terrible curse."

  "Are you sure that it is her wand?" The judge looked up from the photo.

  "She claimed ownership in front of my own eyes."

  "If she were casting the curse at such a close distance, how is it that she had no injuries while others were burned to death?"

  "She is a very powerful witch, your honor," Agent Powel said.

  The judge considered the prosecutor's words as he flipped through the folder of evidence.

  I stood silent. What else could I say at this point? Agent Powel had sealed my fate. They had too much evidence against me, or so they said. I hadn't seen it all, but my opinions hadn't mattered since the moment I woke up in the hospital. I was doomed.

  "The precedent for cases like this are quite … severe," The judge said. "Never has a witch this young been put on trial for mass murder."

  "Your honor!" I protested. "I'm twenty, not legally an adult in the magical world. Am I not able to get some sort of sympathy? I didn't do it. Please!" My voice cracked.

  Everyone paused and looked at me. The judge adjusted the papers and cleared his throat. "As you are technically not of independent legal age, we do have limits, Miss Valentine," He said. "However, these crimes are so heinous that I do not believe you can be reformed at a juvenile detention center."

  My hands started to shake. What did that mean?

  "Due to your age, I have decided to have mercy on you. You will not be sentenced to death. However, you must pay for your crimes." The judge pushed his glasses up and tightened the grip on his gavel. "With the evidence that has provided to me, I hereby pass judgment. Harper Valentine, you are sentenced to life in prison with no parole."

  The sound of the gavel rang out, sending echos through my head.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Was I really innocent? Or was I a criminal?

  How could I even trust my own thoughts anymore? The hex had revealed that my mind was as empty as my memories. There was no proof of my innocence, but there was a mountain of evidence against me. What did it matter anymore? It was done. I was lost to the world. I would be remembered as a horrible murderer and nothing more.

  The minute after the gavel fell, I was carried away and brought to the prison where I would rot for the rest of my life.

  Right now, I was in a room waiting for inspection. I hadn't slept in at least two days.

  Finally, a large, trollish woman came in and tossed a towel at me. She had an unlit cigarette behind her ear. She said nothing to me as she inspected my hair for lice or patted me down for weapons.

  "Shower." She grunted at me, pointing to the shower on one side of the room. There was no privacy curtain.

  I nodded dumbly, stripped down, and showered under the cold water. It was humiliating. Once I was clean, the woman gave me a uniform.

  "Go." She ordered. She pointed to the door. It was not the door I came in from, it was the door that led to the central prison area.

  I shuffled, still shoe-less, towards the door where I was met with two guards. One guard handed me a pair of slip-on shoes, and the other frowned at me, inspecting my long hair.

  "Should we shave her?" He asked with a dark chuckle.

  I shuddered.

  "Hair tie." The woman appeared by my side and gave me the air elastic I had worn upon arrival. The pathetic piece of elastic was all I had left of my old life.

  "Thanks." I quickly put my hair up in a ponytail.

  The woman grunted and shut the door.

  That left me alone with the two guards. They stared me down like wolves, grinning, and practically drooling. These two guys were mortal men, not a drop of magic was in their veins. Having power over magic users was probably what got these guys off. Disgusting.

  The first guard, the one who gave me the slip-on shoes, let's call him Guard One, touched my shoulder. The feeling of his hand on me made me shiver with disgust.

  "Come on, witch," The second guard said.

  The first guard took the lead with his partner behind me. They only gave me enough space for one step at a time, blocking me from trying to escape. Where the hell would I go anyways?

  I kept my head down, glancing back and forth to take in as much
as I could without making it look obvious. We were in a white hallway with concrete flooring and locked doors to either side of us.

  It was strangely quiet. I had expected to hear yells or screams, something to indicate what horrors were going on hidden from the public eye. I knew nothing about prisons, paranormal or mundane, except what I had seen in movies.

  My slip-on shoes let the coldness of the floor into my body. The guards' breathing seemed loud to me. My heart started pounding faster and faster with every step. A panic attack was coming on fast. I had never experienced these sorts of things before. At least, not until the night that my life had been ripped away from me.

  I swallowed hard, blinking to reduce the tunnel vision that took over my senses.

  "Witch," The Guard One barked.

  We came to a stop at a metal door with a small barred window.

  I shivered, hugging my arms against my chest.

  "Your quarters are in the women's ward." Guard Two explained. He pointed to the door in front of us. "The common areas are co-ed, so be careful." He winked.

  I wrinkled my nose, biting back the taste of bile that rose in my throat. I didn't need the wink to know what he was insinuating.

  Guard One knocked on the metal door.

  A woman in the same guard's uniform unlocked it a minute later. She frowned at me. "Is this B-778?" She asked.

  Guard One nodded.

  "I was supposed to go get her." She spat. "Don't need you jerks getting in these girls' heads."

  "Aw, still a bleeding heart as always," Guard One sneered. He pushed me into the woman. "Here's she's all yours. Until feeding time." He laughed.

  The guard woman kicked the door closed. "Prick."

  I was too nervous to laugh.

  The woman looked at me. She had freckles across both of her cheeks and dimples when she grinned. "It's ok, darling, you're here now," She said. "You can call me Daisy. I'm the intake worker for witches here. Welcome to Banebrook Reformatory."