Life should be getting back to normal…
Chance survived a serial killer returning from the grave and said yes to a date with her ex-lover Jack. But survivor's guilt eats away at her and her world turns upside down when earthquakes begin to rattle the landscape and devastate the region she calls home.
Madness becomes her…
Terrified that she is the source of earthquakes devastating the land, she tries to shut down her connection to the Earth. But when enemies aware of how to shatter her bond to the earth kidnap her, Chance faces her most desperate hour,
When the earth shakes, the witch bleeds…
Staring into the face of madness, she must learn to trust her allies or risk losing everything—and everyone she loves.
I stopped walking. Jaime went another three steps further and swung around to glance at me.
“Jaime, he’s dead. He needed to die. He would have killed me. He almost killedJack.” Harsh—not because it didn’t ring true, or because it was forced—but because the admission exploded effortlessly out of my fermented soul.
“I didn’t say he didn’t need to die, Chance-baby. I just said you’ve coped with a lot.”
“I’m not coping with it.” I shoved my wet hair out of my eyes and finger combed my frizzing curls. If only I could sort through the confusion of issues surrounding Oakes so easily. “There’s nothing to cope with. I accept that he, she…whatever Oakes and Masters were…they were evil. They would have gone on killing others, abusing their position and…”
“…and sometimes when a crop gets rotten, you can’t save it. Especially when the rot goes to the roots. Sometimes you have to just burn the field to clear it and let it renew on its own.”
I wanted to look away from his steady gaze, to refute the concern draped in pity. I wanted to look away from the reflections of my own self-doubt.
“He wasn’t a crop. He was not a field. He won’t recover and rebound in another season. He was a person.” He said it like I didn’t already know dead meant dead.
“That,” I jabbed a finger at him, batting away the argument, “is debatable. He was a monster.”
“And he let you live for eight years, unmolested, even though he was out there.”
“So it’s okay that he stabbed me? That he murdered all those women?” Disappointment licked at the kindling of pain, sadness and shock.
“Absolutely not.” He rocked forward a step, but stopped when I backed away. “He did something worse to you.”
“What could be worse than murdering all those women? Women with power—and not just power, but unique power and ability. Irreplaceable. Any who refused to take Masters’ deal, all women with families and futures. What could be worse than hunting them?” The edges of my vision hazed, the thrum of my heart echoed, the harsh sound of my own breathing flooded my ears. “What could be worse than stabbing me and leaving me to die?”
“He made you a murderer.”