Witches of Barcelona: A Dark, Funny & Sexy Urban Paranormal Romance Series (Blood Web Chronicles by Caedis Knight (hardest books to read .txt) 📗

“No, I’m dating Salvador.”

Well, that IS new. Why would nice Salvador be dating my mom? And more importantly, why would she be dating beneath her station? Salvador’s hand on the dip of my mother’s back as he ushered her out of the office suddenly makes a lot of sense. Gross. 

“I wish you both the best.” I salute her and turn to the door.

She steps closer to me. “Saskia, stay.”

I recoil. I can’t help it, even though I’ve been taking the brew every morning to protect me from her touch. She lays a hand on my arm, and I feel the buzz, but no effect. She wants me to feel calm, so I act it, although it’s hard to wipe the look of disgust off my face.

“There,” she says sweetly. “Don’t you feel better already? Stay and help me, Saskia. It’s what you want.”

Her smug face enrages me. The way she’s so sure she’s won. But she hasn’t this time, it’s my turn to be in control. I pretend to yield to her touch, my whole body softening at will. Satisfied, she lets go, and I fake a familiar sleepy smile, signifying my submission.

She’s right about one thing. I need answers. I will get to the bottom of Maribel’s disappearance and use every bit of leverage I can get to make her use her power and find my sister.

“You can borrow my shawl,” my mother says, waving her hand at a mahogany coat rack in the corner.

She’s turned away from me, engrossed with something on her desk. I’ve been dismissed.

This is all so familiar, so nauseating, it makes my head spin. My stomach churns with nervous spasms as memories of my childhood under her spell drown my mind. Her magic didn’t work this time, but I can still feel it sticking to me, clinging to my skin like something dirty and haunting. If I stay one more minute, I will hurl on her fancy rug. I head for the door without the shawl. I’ll pretend to be her plaything to get what I want, but I draw the line at her telling me what to wear.

I’m going to vomit.

Bile rises up my throat as I storm down the hallway. I can’t stay in this building any longer. I need to get away from her.

Another text comes in.

Car is here, can you grab Beatriz on your way out? She went to the roof to send a message. 

Went to the roof to send a message? What the hell?

The grey marble hall spins out, and I struggle to breathe again. To be honest, I’d rather vomit on the roof than on the pristine floor, so I run up the steps taking them two at a time. The train of my ball gown trails wildly behind me, and it’s a miracle I don’t trip on it and tear the sheer fabric.

I slam open the door to the roof and as the fresh air hits my face I heave. Once, twice, three times. I let my head hang between my legs. Then, finally, I look up.

I’d forgotten how incredible the view of the city is from up here. The air is fresh but not cold. I lean on one of the strange structures, posts crowned with colorful mosaic shaped like pinecones and Christmas baubles. The city twinkles below me, a collection of sparkling squares. The way all the streets are laid out in a grid system reminds me of New York. I can see the statue of Columbus from here, the sea, and the tall towers of the Olympic village.

In the center of the roof is a raised platform. I climb the steps, and the city opens wider for me. It really is breathtaking. I should have come to Barcelona more often. All those invites Mikayla sent me, and all the excuses I could find to keep away from my mother, and now I’m completely alone. I should be here with my sister, not because of her.

Something flutters past me. It’s just a crow. It lands on the edge of the roof below where a flock has gathered.

“You’re ridiculous,” says a gentle voice, followed by a giggle. “Go. You’ll be late.”

It’s Beatriz, in her mist-like ball gown, talking to one of the birds. She reaches out a manicured finger and strokes the crow’s beak. For a second, I swear he leans into her touch. I never had her down for a birdwatcher.

“I’m sure Estrella can fashion a feather boa out of your pet if you ask nicely,” I shout down into the darkness.

Beatriz whips around, startled. The crow takes off.

With narrowed unwelcoming eyes, she watches me as I join her by a peculiar-looking structure. It’s hard to see in the faint glow of the fairy lights, but it looks like a giant cage, and it’s full of birds. More crows. They stand there silently, staring at me with their black beady eyes.

Creepy.

Even though it’s dark, I can see Beatriz is frazzled.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she says.

I shrug my shoulders. “Rafi sent me. The car’s ready. Sorry, I didn’t know I’d be interrupting your conversation with a bird.”

She doesn't answer. A panicked cawing rings from the aviary, and I take a step back.

“They won’t hurt you,” she says, approaching the cage. Her eyes remain fixed on the birds.

“Why didn’t you tell me about our parents being together?”

She makes a face. “Because it’s gross.”

“Agreed.”

There’s another flutter as crows, both in and out of the aviary, spread their wings.

“Rafi said you had to send a message up here. What’s that all about?”

Beatriz turns around, her black swirling dress looking like the night itself. She’s basically a floating head and arms.

“The crows are messengers for the MA.”

“Why? Are Witches too cool for pigeons and owls?”

“It doesn’t work like that. They don’t transport paper; they carry magic.” She turns her back to me, looking out over the shining city. “I can send dreams far away, as a form of communication. Luisa can send feelings too, like a