Killer Crescent by Leigh Kelsey

20

“Dean,” I growled, my voice so low and furious I wondered if I might be an alpha female and overpower him until he crashed to his knees.

But my Sexy Sir remained on his feet in the middle of the field behind Blake Hall, his silver hair and broad shoulders framed by the immense cube that had been constructed by magic. Just for us trialists—yippee. As big as a labyrinth and made of thick, dense grass, it looked like a box and a hedge had had a lovechild. Each side had a door. What lay beyond the doors, I didn’t know, but Dean warned me this trial would test my power like the other trials had apparently tested my emotional state and physical strength.

Two more trials, and I’d have proved myself to Blake Hall. I’d be allowed to stay. And honestly, as much as it hurt me to admit it, I was starting to like this place. Minus the murder attempts, it was creepy and gothic and I was into that. Plus, my mates were here. Maybe sticking around for a while wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Besides, I was so close to proving my worth, I might as well see it through.

Assuming I didn’t get killed first.

“He stays,” Dean growled right back, even deeper and more rumbly. I wavered on my feet at his dominance, my wolf whimpering.

But I propped my hands on my hips and gave him my darkest glare. “Are you trying to hurt me, Dean? Because it’s working.”

His mouth turned down, a sigh expanding his chest as he ducked closer to my glaring face. “I’m not trying to hurt you, baby. But he’s your only enemy with access to your trials, and he can hardly attack you if he’s busy with his own trial, can he?”

“But,” I whined, “I don’t want him here.” I scowled across the field to where Edison Bray lurked, his icy blonde hair shorn close to his scalp on the sides, showing a vicious black tattoo he didn’t have two years ago. He was still devastatingly attractive, but that wouldn’t stop me cutting his throat if he so much as looked at me wrong.

“Neither do I,” Dean agreed quietly, his expression intense. “But this task is immensely dangerous, and very difficult. There’s a chance he could die today.” He shrugged, as if he was hoping Bray would die.

“But that means I could, too!” I hissed.

“You’re too clever and dangerous to die,” he disagreed, kissing the spot between my brows. “Time to go, Miss Falcon. Everyone’s waiting on you.”

“Fuck them. Let them wait.”

But I recognised the no-nonsense look that entered Dean’s eyes and flattened his expression to pure alpha. I sighed, storming over to my hedge door without even kissing him because I was bitter and pissed off.

“The first task of this trial,” Dean said, standing a ways back from the massive cube that stretched six feet above my head, casting a cold shadow that made goosebumps rise on my arms. I’d done the smart thing and worn a jacket today, zipped up to my collar, and I had fluffy pink socks stuffed in my boots in case this trial was as cold as the last two, but I still shivered. More out of unease than chill. I’d known how to face a woods, no matter what creatures roamed it, and the bridge would have been simple if someone hadn’t tried to kill me. But this … what was inside the hedge? “Retrieve the key.”

“Huh?” Boyband asked, looking as flawless and celebrity-ish as always. He faced the wall around the corner from mine, staring at it with as much scorn as I scowled at mine. “What key?”

Uh-oh, he hadn’t paid any attention to the door in front of him. I hadn’t made the same mistake; I’d already scanned the grassy cube before me and spotted the gleam of gold—the lock. Then again, I was used to noticing tiny details in my day job—that’s why I’d never got caught as Graves, only as Rebel when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

I heard the smirk in my Sexy Sir’s voice as he said, “That key.”

I peered over my shoulder and followed his pointed finger all the way up, up, up the grassy cube to where a glimmer of gold caught the dying light. I didn’t bother waiting for Boyband or the others to figure out how to get there; I sank my fingers into the turf and discovered a trellis beneath it, buzzing with magic that set my teeth on edge. If I knew how to use my witchcraft, I’d have wrapped a shield around myself to avoid the inevitable hex put on this cube, but I could barely make my fingers spark up. Luckily, all I needed was upper arm strength and determination, and I had enough of both to scale the lower half of the cube, pausing for a millisecond to check on the others. Boyband was just about to jump up, and I couldn’t see the other two, but I kept going, putting hand over hand, gritting my teeth against the burn in my muscles, so close I could reach out and—

“You son of a bitch,” I growled, more than a little wolfy as Edison’s tattooed hand snapped the key from its string, dangling it tauntingly in front of my face. I snapped my teeth in his direction, surprised when they were as sharp as Dean’s got sometimes, my wolf side surging to the surface. I wondered if my eyes were doing the dark veiny thing, too. Shame I couldn’t shift, or I’d claw his face off.

“Too slow, Blossom,” he laughed, but the blood drained from his face as the name registered. He hadn’t meant to call me that, had he? I stared as he dropped back to the ground, tucking into a ball and disappearing from sight. Shouldn’t he have called me dud or failure or whatever the fuck else he had rotting in that brain of his? Not Blossom, the pet name he’d given me that day two years ago.

“What the fuck?” I breathed, ignoring the wolf’s snarl as Vom found the key already gone. I climbed back down, my arms shaking and my mind spinning at a thousand miles per hour.

He hadn’t meant to call me that, I knew for sure. But why had the name slipped out? Was that how he thought of me? Even after all these years he’d hated me, rejected me? I wished I’d been strong enough to be unaffected by it—it was probably a mind game he played for fun—but I couldn’t help it. Whether he’d rejected me or not, he was my mate, and I was tugged ruthlessly towards him even when I wanted to stab his soft, vulnerable bits.

“Well done, Bray,” Dean growled, so deep it was a threat. “You have a minute advantage. The rules of the trial are simple. Inside, you’ll find a rotary phone; all you need to do is dial the number thirteen without using your hands, or knees, or elbows, or anything else on your body. This is a test of your mind and your power.”

“This is bullshit,” Vom snarled, seething with anger. “The witches will clearly win; they’re the only ones with magic.”

I rolled my eyes. Vom was always whining; I prefered Brunel, but he must have fallen off his bridge and been sent to jail.

“You have dominance,” Dean replied coolly. “Wilson has compulsion. Both are kind of power.”

“So … I’m meant to growl a phone into submission?” Vom demanded.

Dean’s smile was a little mean. “You’ll figure it out.”

I’d already figured it out. These trials were meant to break us. No wonder there were only three of us left—four if you counted Edison. They wanted to kick us out of Blake Hall, and they’d stacked the odds way against us.

I’m not going to fucking prison,I reminded myself. There’s got to be some way to do this. There has to be.

I had to trust Dean. He wouldn’t let me do something that would break me, or separate us.

Right?

“Enter, Bray,” Dean commanded, and I heard the tumblers of a lock click into place. And then silence.

A whole minute of silence.

Whatever Edison was doing inside the cube, we couldn’t hear a single hint of it. That … did not bode well. Another shiver went down my arms, and shot up my spine.

“Right, time for the rest of you to go in,” Dean rumbled, and lifted a pen. I gave him a dubious look as he held it out in front of him, depressing the button on top, and—three locks tumbled open. Huh. Must have been another witch’s charm.

“What happens if we can’t do it?” I asked, lifting my hand to press to the cool blades of grass covering the door. This whole thing had to be a witch’s creation. Which meant just about anything could be lurking inside. A rotary phone for sure … but what else?

“If you fail the trial, you lose your place at Blake Hall,” Dean replied, his gaze practically ordering me not to fail.

I swallowed, pushing the door wider.

That settled it, then. I had no choice but to pass this trial.