Morgan carefully lifted his limb out of the trap, unprepared when the hound lunged forward and clamped his jaws painfully around her wrist. The hellhound whimpered in pain, his leg clearly broken. The rusty metal screeched in protest when she used her enhanced strength to wrench it open. The sigils grew tarnished, the glow of the spell floating in the air like a cloud of sparkling red dust before dissipating. The light from the spell dimmed, bowed under her magic, until she heard a crack. Magic surged down her arms and slammed into the metal. She moved slowly, not wanting to startle the hound, and gripped the edges of the trap. The hellhound sensed the change, and crouched down, his head lowered, never removing his gaze from hers. Almost immediately, the runes along her back shimmer to life. Much to her surprise, the torque came away easily, curling itself around her wrist like a snake. Only a witch would know the combination to open the trap.īut if she had enough power, Morgan could destroy the spell altogether. Different sigils were etched into the metal, the spell glowing slightly to her enhanced senses. In order to rescue Ascher, she needed magic to release his foot from the contraption. It was protecting her, not the prison shackles as she originally feared. The torque helped keep her secret, often changing its shape, as if trying to amuse her. After being treated worse than a slave by the witches for the past ten years, she wanted nothing further to do with them. They were ruthless, many of them believing their powers made them special and above the law. The witches didn’t know she carried magic, and she had no intention of telling them.

The metal would click into place, warming in welcome, as if glad to be home. Only when she couldn’t take the pain anymore did she replace the torque. The power would gain strength and continue to grow, until it seemed it would consume her from the inside out.

The relief at being free almost made her giddy…until the magic carved into her back began to build. The first time the necklace detached, the surprisingly heavy metal came away in her hands, and her neck felt naked without it.

Academy of Assassins by Stacey Brutger