Chapter Fourteen
I dodged, and wove Block. As I crouched, Block surrounded me in a defensive shield.
Shame’s spell burned past me, leaving a scorched stink of burnt cherries in its wake. While one part of my mind was pulling out the swearwords, the other couldn’t understand how he could have missed. Shame dealt Death magic. He was a master at it. If he wanted to hit something, that thing got hit.
I pulled my machete, to block his next attack.
Instead of attacking, he stood there, breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists in front of him, head tipped down so that I could not see his eyes.
But it was the smell of sweet cherries that told me exactly what was going on. Blood magic.
Chase had marked him, cut his gut. Bound him to her with blood. Now she was using him.
Holy shit. I’d thought he was going to call his mom.
Shame’s fists shook and the fingers of his right hand slowly opened, one at a time.
“Don’t,” he said, one ragged word. “Don’t let the bitch.”
He groaned. His hand jerked into the beginnings of another glyph. The grass beneath him was drying up, going brown as he drew on Death magic to fight her control over him.
Or-and this would be on my list of bad things-maybe she drew on Death magic through him to use it on me.
Shame tipped his head up, eyes burning with hatred. Sweating, teeth bared in a growl. Furious.
“Fuck her hard,” he said through clenched teeth.
To do that, I’d have to knock Shame out. He knew that. And he was buying me time.
I dropped Block, and stood back up while calmly reciting a mantra. I drew a spell for Sleep.
Not an angry spell, something a parent would use on a fussy child.
It’s always the simple things that no one expects to work.
Of course, I put so much magic into it, Shame would be out hard and fast.
His eyes narrowed, but I thought I saw him nod.
I finished the spell, and hurled it, filled with all the magic burning in my body, my bones. I threw it at Shame with everything I had.
He jerked, but didn’t lift a hand to block. He held his ground and let the spell hit him full force.
Gutsy. Like staring down a heat-seeking missile.
I felt an echoed flash of pain at my wrist, his anger-and that man knew how to hate-and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He crumpled to the ground.
Terric’s heartbeat sped up, his worry bleeding through.
Okay, maybe there was a downside to being connected to one another.
For once, I was already ahead of him. Let Zay deal with Chase; let Terric cover our tracks. I was going to handle the real problem here-Greyson.
And since I had my dad, at least part of him, in my head, and Greyson very much wanted to get his slathering jaws on him, I was pretty sure I could find him easier than anyone on this side of death.
I glanced at Zay and Chase and Terric. They were gone. Nothing but an empty field met my gaze. Right. I’d let go of the Sight spell.
Okay, let me add awesome Illusionist to Terric’s qualities. I drew Sight again, and sucked in a hard breath.
Terric pulled in a huge amount of magic from deep beneath the ground to fuel the Containment. He was breathing hard and steady, like a man enduring a brutal run. I knew he wasn’t about to drop, but I also knew there was a limit to his endurance.
Zayvion beat Chase back against the Containment. She stabbed her knife into the wall of magic Terric had created and drew the magic out of it, channeling it directly at Zay.
Not a spell. Not a glyph. She sent a raging stream of magic burning at Zay like a flamethrower.
Zay held one hand out, palm forward, blocking the flame like some superhero in a movie. Magic poured around him, flaring and sparking metallic colors, filling the Containment space. But it could not get through the walls Terric held.
Zay should cast a spell to knock her out. He should smack her with the blade, hell, punch her, tackle her.
Instead, Chase yelled. I couldn’t hear what she said, but I guessed it was a spell.
And the Illusion that Chase had been casting, holding this entire time, shattered.
Fast. Too fast.
One heartbeat: Chase fell to her knees.
She redirected the stream of magic. Past Zay, who ran now, toward her, trying to stop her.
Magic poured past him. Just like she wanted it to.
Poured into the shadowy figure who ran on all fours, liquid, faster than any man, even Zayvion, at Terric. It was Greyson. Greyson running toward Terric.
I whispered a mantra. Maybe it was a prayer. Pulled on as much magic as I could contain.
Greyson leaped at Terric.
Terric raised one hand. Slow. Too slow.
Zay twisted. Threw a spell at Greyson.
Chase was talking, singing, chanting.
Giving her magic, feeding Greyson.
And waiting.
For the second Zay’s back was turned.
For this second.
She threw her knife.
I yelled. Cast Hold. End. This had to stop. Something had to stop this. I had to stop this.
Greyson tore into Terric, knocked him down, sank teeth into his shoulder.
Magic slid under my feet, skipped, skittered, and was gone. The storm did it again-pulled magic out of my reach.
It was like someone had hit an off switch for me personally. I was empty. The magic I cast fizzled out before it even reached them.
I ran.
Chase’s knife found its target, buried hilt deep into Zay’s back. He yelled. And I heard it. Because Terric’s Containment was down.
Chase chanted. Fast, guttural. She was crying. And she was casting a spell.
The bitch.
Apparently magic was still working for her.
Zay stumbled, touched the ground with one hand, and pushed back up. Running. Pounding forward.
He was almost on Greyson. Spells and steel. He swung the machete.
Thunder rolled, a hard, crushing crack I felt in my bones. A gate between life and death burned into the air, yawned open between Terric and Zay.
Chase was a Closer. She knew how to close gates. She knew how to open them too.
Greyson let go of Terric, and lunged at Zayvion.
He leaped through the gate. From one side to the other. Onto Zay.
Terric rolled up on his knees. Raised a hand, threw magic at Greyson, at the gate.
Zay swung his sword, chanting a spell of pain and death.
But it was Greyson I heard. His growl. His howl. As he drank down all the magic, everything Terric threw. Everything Chase offered. Everything Zay swung. Sucked it all in. Then howled as Zay’s machete sliced into his ribs.
Except there was no blood.
