Duskmoon Village
Panic drove Layla forward.
It couldn't be.
Ziva couldn't have killed her sister. Laura couldn't be dead.
She pushed the door open and froze.
The room smelled thickly of blood and her eyes widened in shock.
Ziva lay sprawled across the bed, her body slick with crimson. The floor beneath her was stained with dark blood. Her shirt had been torn away and her abdomen and her intestines were practically spilling out.
It was a miracle she was still breathing.
Sweat coated Ziva's pale forehead, her teeth clenched as waves of pain wracked her body. Despite the severity of the wound, fury still burned in her eyes.
Around the bed stood Lilian and two other witches in attendance.
"Do the goddamn spell already!" Ziva snarled.
Lilian nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Yes—yes, of course."
She grabbed the hands of the other witches. The three of them formed a small circle beside the bed, fingers interlocked.
Then they began to chant.
