“Gramps,” Maria called sharply.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. First, confusion passed over his face; then realization that one of his best friends was potentially in danger. He went for the door again, his heart thundering in his chest.
“Salem!” he shouted.
But it was too late.
Felah Fyre changed.
Chapter Sixteen
The front show windows exploded inward, raining pieces of glass all over the inside of the ice cream store. Salem went flying through the air, and he would’ve kept going if a freezer hadn’t stopped his momentum.
Agnes screamed. Something shot through the open window; it looked like a streak of gray lightning. It landed with a splat, and Agnes’s screams were cut off. Maria turned and saw what looked like a rotten spiderweb, plastered over Agnes’s face. Agnes fell backward, bucking and kicking, clawing at the grayness.
It was mayhem. Smoke and dust clouded Maria’s vision, but the sword was on her hip and she drew it.
“Gramps!” she shouted trying to see him through the gloom. He had already rushed to Salem’s side. Maria made her way over there. Ignatius was kneeling next to Agnes. He waved his hand, and the spiderweb around Agnes’s mouth fell free. She took a deep breath.
The Muffler twins screamed as more webs sliced through the air. One struck them at the same time, and they went tumbling to the floor, their legs wrapped up together.
Maria looked back to the broken window. The smoke and fog had settled. She could see the figure standing there. It was enough to freeze her heart, because the figure standing there wasn’t a female wizard anymore. Now it was something unholy, and Maria witnessed the change in all its disgustingness.
The skin bubbled from the bone so far out that it seemed to rip. Maria heard it, even over all the pandemonium.
“It’s him,” Gramps confirmed. “Maria, stay back.”
From each of the woman’s arms, two more sprouted. Black as midnight, black as death. The stomach zigged and zagged, clothes ripping. Then it burst open, and the rippled abdomen of some dark creature took its place.
Maria’s blood went cold. Her knees locked in place. All the saliva in her mouth dried up, and she couldn’t swallow.
Sherlock no longer growled. Shocked, he said, What in the actual fuck?
Maria wanted to say ‘I don’t know,’ but she couldn’t even bring herself to do that.
Lastly, Felah’s face changed. The eyes bubbled like the skin had, but somehow it was worse…much worse. The pupils stretched until they became translucent and Maria could see the ridged brow beneath. The nose elongated. Fangs sprouted from the grim line that was once Felah’s mouth.
“Cloaking spell,” Agnes sighed. “Should’ve known. How could we be so stupid?” she asked, shaking her head.
Gramps put a hand on her. She held Salem in her lap; his face was scratched and bloody, but Maria noted his chest rising and falling intermittently. He was alive—barely, but still alive.
“It doesn’t matter,” Gramps said gruffly. “What’s done is done. Now I must face the consequences.”
Maria gripped the hilt of her new sword tight. Her palms were slick with sweat. She thrust it out toward Gramps. “Here,” she said. “It’s yours.”
He shook his head. Then he spoke, raising his voice to the abomination standing on the sidewalk in front of him. “Malakai! You are outnumbered. There are six wizards and witches here of great power. It would be wise to turn around and leave.”
The hair on top of Felah’s mutilated scalp fell away. A breeze caught it and took it dancing down the empty dark street, like tumbleweed in a Western film.
The last part of Felah’s pale skin ripped away and the Arachnid beast stood in full view. Maria watched as his mouth opened in reply. “The music box,” he said, his voice very Darth Vader-ish. “That’s all I want.”
“It is not yours,” Ignatius Apple, formerly known as Ignatius Mangood, said. “I don’t want to kill you again.”
Badass line, Sherlock said.
“Quiet,” Maria managed to say.
On the ends of Malakai’s fingers were jagged silver claws. Maria saw bristly hairs on each arm and leg. The creature was naked in the most basic sense, but she saw no sex on him. Just fangs and claws.
She took a step forward. “You heard the man. Get out of here,” she said. Her voice was infused with power. Her skin glowed a darker blue than before, but she didn’t know it. She was angry. Close to that anger, though, was fear.
Malakai threw his head back in laughter. This was not the creature she had seen in Duke’s vision. This creature was more jarring—as if a giant man-like spider wasn’t jarring enough. Malakai was dead already, and you could see it in the way he stood, proud, his chest thrust out, a creature with nothing to lose.
That laughter, when it hit them, sent gooseflesh all up and down their arms.
“I’ve come for more than the box,” Malakai admitted. “I’ve lied. Yes. I guess I’m a liar and a murderer. That precious woman whose skin I wore is long gone. Not even her bones remain. I ate them, too.”
Sickening. I wouldn’t even do that, Sherlock said. And I’ve been known to sniff other dogs’ asses.
Maria was glad Malakai couldn’t hear Sherlock’s thoughts like she could; otherwise she was sure he would’ve been killed a long time ago.
“I’ve come for your head, Ignatius. I’ve come to kill you for what you did to me on Oriceran.”
Gramps turned around, facing Malakai. Maria wanted to reach out to him and stop him before Malakai could attack.
“I did what I had to do, Malakai,” Gramps said. He bent down and placed his hand on Salem’s chest. An odd electric buzz filled the air; Maria’s hair stood on end, and the fur on the back of Sherlock’s neck rose in hackles.
Salem’s eyes flew open. He convulsed and then took a deep breath. Agnes caught him as
