Saved by the Spell (Anna Wolfe Series, Book #2) by Casey Keen

pain makes me cringe. She slides to the floor, doubling over in agony. Watching Cara being tortured is going to be harder than I thought. I glance at Micah, whose face fails to hide his pleasure. He walks over to Cara, snatches her arm and pulls her off the floor. He looks at me before turning back to her. He restrains her wrists with his fingers, slamming her into his brawny chest. He flips her around to face him. A crinkled sneer darkens his features.
    “ Why... why are you doing… doing this?” Cara stammers in a quivering voice. “Please don't hurt me.”
    Micah ignores her plea . Instead, his eyes are an unhinged shade of red. In one swift movement, he launches Cara clear across the room. She slams into the wall with a loud thud. Spider cracks spread from beneath her body as the wall strains from the surprise assault. Micah turns to me, his eyes blazing red.
    “Want more, Anna?”
    I swallow hard. I have a budding hatred for Cara, but that doesn't mean I want to watch her suffer. My magic is useless, so protecting her with it isn’t an option. I refuse to answer him, because when it comes down to it, I choose The Scholars’ safety over Cara's. Micah frowns at me, expecting to hear me beg for her well-being. He strides angrily to Cara, peeling her off the concrete wall like a sticker. My eyes widen, amazed to see her chest rising and falling.
    “ Surprised, love?” Micah pivots, questioning me in an agitated tone. His caramel hair falls wildly from his head, barely covering his feral eyes.
    Crazy doesn't look good on him.
    “Don't worry, Anna. She isn’t going to die… yet. I plan on torturing her over and over again. Unless of course, you have something to say?”
    Cara looks at me expectantly. I glance away, not wanting to indulge in her pity. Why should I help her? She ripped the thread of our family apart without so much as a second thought. I won’t allow her absolution at the expense of thousands of people who actually deserve to live. Besides, if I help her, it’s only a matter of time before she screws us over again. That’s not a chance I’m willing to take a second time around.
    Micah slowly raises his arm. Cara’s body begins to lift on its own, dragging her upward until she’s floating in midair. Her legs and arms thrash fearfully, straining for balance. Her eyes register panic, knowing something bad is soon to follow. He flings his arm upward, and Cara flies towards the twenty-foot ceiling face-first, stopping just before smashing into it. Her high-pitched shriek rends through the room, echoing off the curved corners. It’s nearly unbearable. She claws at the ceiling, as if attempting to carve placeholders in the marble. Micah turns to me, trying to gauge my emotions. Unsatisfied, he drops his arm.
    Cara plummets rapidly.
    Reality steps out, switching over to autopilot. Slow motion. Everything is happening in slow motion. I remember watching movies, where the scene slowed down and the main character watches the chaos unfold sluggishly. I never understood why until now. My brain can only process so many traumas in a forty-eight-hour window. A calm eeriness blankets the room in stillness. No screaming. No emotions. She knows she’s going to die. I guess staring death in the face does that to a person. I feel helpless and broken, knowing there’s nothing I can do. Chills explode over my skin as time begins to catch up to itself. Nothing prepares me for the sound a human body makes when it hits the ground. Her bones snap like glass as pools of dark, scarlet blood spill all over the otherwise pristine, white tile. Cara's unresponsive body lies before me. I study her, eager to see her chest rise again, but her body remains motionless. She’s gone. A solitary tear slides down my cheek unexpectedly.
    “ Now that's out of the way.” Micah inspects his nails. “She was a bother anyway. Too much of a whiner.” He looks at me proudly and snaps his fingers twice. Two burly Nephilim stagger in on