Wickedly Powerful by Deborah Blake

Author:Deborah Blake [Blake, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

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BRENNA WAS FRUSTRATED and annoyed; rarely a good thing for anyone around her. She was never the most patient witch even at the height of her power and influence, as that idiot child Beka would attest. She’d spent days going over and over the ancient book of instructions (if you could call anything so vague by that name) for creating the immortality potion and doing small experiments to try and figure out where she’d gone wrong.

She had no more answers than when she started, and it was beginning to piss her off. To make things worse, she was almost certain that Bella was doing something to put a stop to what magic she did manage to create, and that stubborn fire watcher still hadn’t gone away, despite her best efforts to drive him out.

It was time to do something big. The moon was going to be full that night. Time to go all out. Perhaps the smaller fires she’d set simply didn’t cause enough anguish to the forest. Today she would bring on the mother of all magical storms and see how it liked that.

Stupid trees and bushes. Stupid wild animals. Stupid young Baba Yagas. She was tired of being thwarted. She could feel her strength and power waning without the boost she used to get from the Water of Life and Death. Every day of her two hundred eighty-nine years of life weighed her down like ice on a glacier. The potion’s limited effects were only temporary and wore off faster every time she used it.

To muster the magic required for this kind of storm, even with all her skill and experience, she would drain all three Riders at once, a task she approached with the first hint of joy she’d felt in days. Brenna found the fear in their eyes to be almost addictive, their screams of pain a balm to her troubled soul. Well, she probably didn’t have a soul, but still, the screaming made her feel better.

She ran from cage to cage, as gleeful as a child let out of school early, stabbing and kicking and tormenting them as she pulled the blood from their wounds with a combination of magic and twisted science. None of them had the strength to resist, nor dared to do so for fear of what she might do to the others. The first time Alexei had tried to fight back despite his enchanted chains, she’d nearly sawn Mikhail’s arm off with her athame. He had healed that time—it was earlier then, before their powers to heal themselves had waned, but none of them had ever tried anything like that again.

As she poured more and more of their blood into the cauldron, even with the muted effects of their strength, it started to make a difference. Brenna could feel her vitality returning as she breathed in the magic, the energy running into her extremities like the pins and needles of returning circulation. It burned like acid, like the sun, like lava from a volcano of never-ending life.

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