Mad Girl: Locked Up (Supernatural Asylum Book 1) by Karpov Kinrade & Heather Hildenbrand

Author:Karpov Kinrade & Heather Hildenbrand [Kinrade, Karpov]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daring Books
Published: 2020-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“What have you done to her?” I demand, choking on my words as a sob lodges in my throat.

“She is ill,” Cutter says even though it isn’t really an answer, but I’m too lost in my own emotional storm to argue.

Estelle’s skin is cold. Colder than even my own in this drafty, dank place.

With a silent pleading prayer, I call to whatever entity aided me before. Inside me, something awakens. Silvery threads glow underneath my skin and I will them to flow through me and into my sister. To heal her.

The glowing energy—magic, if it can all be believed—slides underneath my skin, heating me from the inside. I hold my breath, praying it’s enough. That, just like with Declan, it will bring her back to herself. But her body remains motionless.

On her other side, a figure appears.

I look up.

“Estelle,” I breathe and the silvery strands surge stronger than ever.

But Estelle’s form is as ethereal as ever, and I fight off panic. The machines continue to beep a steady rhythm. Her heartbeat, I remind myself. Still alive. Still here.

“How do I help you?” I ask her.

Her face contorts with pain and she grips at her cheeks, her fingers clawing the skin there until red welts appear.

“Celeste! Please stop,” her ghostly form begs, and I realize whatever I’m doing is hurting her.

“I have magic. It can heal you,” I say, but she screams, drowning out my words, doubling over and clutching her face in agony.

I yank my hands away, breathing heavy as her ghostly form vanishes. I look down at her physical body. Eyes closed. Skin pale. She looks deceivingly serene.

Straightening, I turn to Cutter, rage boiling in my veins.

“She is immune to a witch’s healing touch.”

“You knew this would hurt her?” I demand.

“I’d hoped your attempts would be different.”

“All this time . . . she’s been your prisoner.” I take a step closer, my rage heating me from the inside. “You won’t get away with this,” I hiss.

“You misunderstand, Celeste. Your sister is unwell. I—”

“You did this to her,” I accuse.

“I found her like this,” he corrects. “Her symptoms are severe, as you can see, but from what my doctors can surmise, she is the victim of her own broken mind.”

I saw the police report. The photos they took of her lifeless body that made me vomit. Her cut wrists. But now her wrists are unmarked. Was it all a lie?

“You’re saying she put herself into some kind of coma?” I scoff but my mind races.

“It appears so,” Cutter says calmly. Too calmly.

The prick.

“She’s been here all this time.” I can’t think straight. But I have to.

Estelle’s life depends on it.

I glare at him.

“You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“No, Celeste. I’m trying to help.” I snort but he continues. “When I uncovered her identity—and yours—I tracked you down. We almost didn’t find you in time. In fact, it was the emergency call you made that led us to you, and you’re fortunate that it did. Dr. Livingstone healed you and brought you here.

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