17
I struggled my way to Annabel as Dakota worked on the chains that bound Xander to the cement column.
After Dakota had used my charged Henrietta to blow a hole through Circe’s head, the Demi’s concentration had snapped, and the magical spike holding Gladas’s corpse to the concrete wall dispersed. The Demi slumped down into his own gore. Annie had crawled on top of him, weeping onto his pallid face, wetting his sticky blood with her tears.
“Hey,” I said, touching her shoulder. A massive shudder ran through my body, chilling my bones. But at the same time, I felt hot all over—like I was about to vomit. Not from the mess that Circe had made of Gladas. I’d seen war and death plenty in my lifetime, and guts bothered me about as much as a lazy Sunday. The nausea and chills came from my complete lack of energy and will to continue forward. The small adrenaline spike had faded, leaving me emptier than ever, and my injuries had taken a massive toll. Unfortunately, I still had a job to do. Get Annie away from Gladas and figure out a way to drag myself to Dakota’s car parked a block away. “Annie.”
She continued to tremble as she lay atop Gladas’s body. “Not him, too. Not him,” she said. “I promised him… I said I’d marry him after my curse was lifted. I loved him. He saved me from becoming a true monster. He saved me and loved me despite my curse.”
“Annie,” I said, my tone soft. We’ll say my voice had weakened from compassion and empathy rather than exhaustion, because that makes me sound like a nicer guy. “We have to get out of here. If Hecate feels any sense of Circe’s passing, she’ll come and kill us all.”
Annabel lifted her face and stared at me. For the first time that day, I didn’t see the crazy woman I met by the river. I saw the Scylla—the monster. Annie’s pale face was smeared in Gladas’s blood, and her white hair was dyed red. She snarled at me with venom and hate, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if she shifted right then and there to kill me. As quickly as the monster appeared, it went away, and Annie melted back onto Gladas.
“Fuck,” I said, dragging myself to the wall, propping against it, surveying the warehouse.
Circe lay dead ten yards from me—her skull nearly split in half, brain matter and bone fragments chunking her blood-stew. Five men lay in a flowered circle around the column that Xander had been chained to. Dakota had an arm wrapped around his waist, and they limped their way toward me and Annabel.
“She’s not listening,” I said.
Xander released his hold from Dakota and hobbled toward the broken woman on the ground. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into his chest, allowing her bloody head to rest against him. They both cried, and he apologized to her over and over.
Dakota sat beside me, hugging her knees to her chest. She glanced at me through loose strands of hair. “I thought you were going to die,” she said, quickly adding, “earlier, in the car. It was just an emotional moment. Don’t look too far into it.”
I smirked, chuckling, but keeping the laugh tight in my mouth. “Old Joey does it again,” I muttered. “They say not a chance in hell it will ever happen, then it happens and they love it and they want some more of it because they can’t get enough it. But when the lights come on and their friends are around, they backtrack and make excuses. Guess what, my lady. It’s always the same. I see that hunger in your eyes. When it’s dark again, you’ll come back.” I grinned. “They all come back.”
“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”
I shook my head in the negative. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about.” Without thinking about how clammy or cold my hand might be, I reached out and grabbed hers. “You did it. You saved us all.”
Dakota didn’t shy her gaze, but she did hold lips together in a timid smile. “Xander saw me enter,” she said. “Without his cue, I don’t think I could have pulled the trigger. I’ve never killed before.”
“That guy has a terrible way of bringing out the worst in people.”
“Circe was a Nephil, wasn’t she? I killed a Nephil.”
“Technically, it was my magic that killed her. You just pulled off a lucky shot.” I didn’t tell her I’d charged the sights, too, making sure that our one chance wouldn’t fail. Lifting her hand, I ran my finger over the pen-marked sigil she’d drawn on herself in order to fire Henrietta.
“Does that mean other Sorcerers can kill Nephil, too?” she asked. “Was I right? Is that why the Nephilim Council works so hard at locating innate magic-users and offering the strongest a pact—to protect themselves?”
I shrugged, not really caring about Nephil politics. If Circe had spoken the truth—and I didn’t think she had a reason to lie—then the Nephilim Council was the last thing we had to worry about at the moment. “Xander, we have to get out of here,” I said. “Hecate and Circe were close. If the Nephil learns of Circe’s death, she might show up here herself.”
Dakota stood and helped me to my feet. Xander, still clothed in nothing but boxers, grabbed Annabel beneath her armpits and hoisted her up. She kicked and screamed, trying to get away, but Xander had about a hundred pounds on her, rendering her efforts futile.
Slowly, we loaded into Gladas’s car. Dakota drove the short distance to her chaotic vehicle, not once apologizing for the mess as we all transferred over.
And then she drove us home.
Before we filed into Xander’s apartment, I stopped at the door, barring the entrance. “Listen up, folks,” I said. “Xander is a huge ass, but he’s too polite and caring to let anyone know that. So, I’ll be
