Chapter 33 Astra
THIRTY-THREE
Astra
My insides are on fire.
I want to make it stop, but I don’t know how.
Donovan whispers sweet words, and I can’t believe my ears. It’s when he kisses the cut on my forehead that I know this is real. He’s attempting to complete the Heart Bonding Ceremony.
It takes a minute for the feeling to fade, but when it does, I feel different.
I feel… more than just me. I’m connected to him in a way I wasn’t before.
It worked!
I’m his and he is mine.
Which can only mean… his feelings for me are real.
I don’t have time to go all teenage girl and squeal about this, even though I very much want to.
Donovan Falco is mine! He chose me. He loves me… or at least has very deep feelings for me.
I shake myself out of my thoughts. I don’t have time for this. We are in the middle of a kidnapping and fight-for-your-life situation, so thinking about the whole Donovan might love me thing will to have to wait.
Donovan is up and somehow free of his bindings. Fabien is standing there frozen, and I wish I could get to him, but I’m currently stuck on the floor. Donovan is going after my father. I hear something about a ring, and it hits me.
Okay, it’s time, I decide.
Gun shots go off around me, and the assholes—yeah, I said it—start dropping like flies. That can only mean…
I look up to see the Devil standing over me. Funny, his smile is a lot warmer than I would have imagined it to be. I snort at the thought.
“Need a hand?” Torrin says.
I can’t even say how thankful I am to see him. Yes, because he can help us, but mostly because it means he’s alive. I can’t think of the others right now, and it kills me.
He hauls me up and cuts me free. Relief rushes through me, and I instantly wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.
He grunts uncomfortably and shifts as if he’s in pain.
The bullet wound flashes in my mind, and I go to pull away, but he pats my back as if telling me it’s okay.
I can’t stop the panic as I search every inch of him, thinking I’ll see him leaking blood from multiple holes. He has the nerve to chuckle at me.
“Wearing a little bit of extra protection,” he tells me, and that’s when I see the two holes in his chest that have no blood at all.
“Just got clipped in a couple of places.” Lies, but it seems like the worst one is the hit he tool to the shoulder, and I can only guess it didn’t hit anything vital.
His head is a different story. I try my hardest not to cringe.
“How’d you find us?”
“I always know where Donovan is,” he says with a wink. He’s trying his best to stay with it, but I can see his energy is fading. I think he took a harder hit than he’s willing to admit to. “Think you can handle the hag while I help your man?”
I try not to laugh.
“I’ll… see what I can do.” I can’t make a promise, but I’m going to try to control my magic enough to get us out of this situation.
“He’s gonna kill your father,” he warns.
I stand tall, unblinking as I say, “Let him.”
The world will be much better without Greely Aubert, I’m sure of that.
Torrin runs off, and I focus all my energy on my surroundings.
I feel them. The threads are reaching out to me.
Anger. Fear. Shame. Anxiety. Confusion.
I reel them in, siphoning their energy.
Static dances along my arms. Electricity fills my veins.
I find Sandra’s emotions above them all and pull hard. Her emotions dance with an edge of darkness. A sense of wrongness fills me.
It burns, like poison is being poured into my veins.
I’m not prepared for this.
But it’s too late to turn back.
My sight flickers, dimming in and out of blackness. It’s strange, but I find I don’t need to see. I can feel where everyone is. I can sense them through their emotions.
I don’t have time to be awed by this newfound power I have. Though it is really cool. I can’t wait to share this with Fabien.
The evil is standing in Donovan’s way.
As much as I want to see my father’s death, I feel I’m more useful getting Sandra out of the way.
She doesn’t see me coming as I wrap my energy around her tether and pull. I’m lucky enough to catch her off guard, but I know that is my one shot. It’s easy to feel the shift in her when she realizes it’s me who’s coming after her. She’s vibrating with jealousy and rage.
I see it now, the truth behind everything she’s said to me.
“You little bitch,” she seethes as she somehow flies at me. “I should have killed you when I killed your mother.”
I nearly falter at her words. I have to admit, I should have seen that coming.
“I loved him and she took him away from me,” she seethes. “And had you, a disgusting offspring.”
I will not let her get to me. I swear I won’t.
She’s crazy and sad and pathetic. She killed my mother and ruined my life all because my father didn’t want her.
Can’t say I blame him.
Sandra pushes against me, and my connection to her flickers. Sweat beads on my forehead and drips down the side of my face. I’m breathing hard as I try to strengthen the tether.
Pull emotions in.
Release them all to her.
It seems simple enough, but I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I really hope I don’t kill us all.
Her face twists into a nasty snarl. Her eyes are all black. She doesn’t even look human anymore.
Just when I thought I might have the upper hand and control, I feel the energy shifting around me.
She takes one step toward me, then another. Her pace doesn’t match the urgency of the situation, and I have to admit, it has me pretty scared.
Blackness swirls out of her. I can’t even explain what I’m seeing. I have no clue. It moves in blurs, not quite like dancing smoke, but not like a racing shadow either.
The tethers snap, and I’m left feeling empty as I’m cut off from the emotions I had been linked to.
She’s muttering, but I can’t hear what the words are over the booming heartbeat pounding in my ears. As her lips move, I can feel the energy shifting.
If I concentrate on where the energy is going, I’m scared I’ll lose control, and I won’t be able to find the tethers again. So I let it go, hoping that whatever she’s attempting to conjure up won’t be strong enough to go against me.
Which is stupid, and I know it. Because she has had years on me to hone her craft.
When I feel some distant emotions, I latch on to them.
“Look out!” Fabien screams.
It’s enough to actually break my concentration. My chest heaves as all the tethers fade away.
Donovan moves quickly to my left, and it catches my attention.
My father’s bloody body begins to twitch.
No, this can’t be. I don’t want to believe it, but I’m seeing it right before my very own eyes. My father sits up, and a stream of blood rushes out of his neck and chest. The sight is enough to turn my stomach.
Necromancy is a thing of the past. Even I know it’s not practiced nowadays, and the books were said to have been burned long ago.
How is Sandra doing this? She’s not a natural, I can tell by the way she’s muttering spells. So, where did she learn it?
“Donovan!” I yell as my father stiffly wraps a hand around Donovan’s throat. The mutilated stump where his pinky once was leaves a smear of blood on Donovan’s skin.
My father is a puppet. A brainless, dead puppet.
It’s so eerie to see.
I’ve got to break her concentration.
Sucking in a deep breath, I run for Sandra.
She’s barely paying me any attention, too focused on what she’s doing.
Fabien beats me to it, striking her hard in the back with a chair.
She stumbles forward, coughs, and blinks as if dazed for a second.
The chair is in pieces on the floor, wood splintered into huge chunks.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I lean down, my fingertips brushing over smooth wood. Next thing I know, I’m scooping up a leg-shaped stake. I don’t think about the weight of it as I tightly wrap my hand around the unbroken side. I don’t think about what kind of damage I could do.
I don’t think about anything, really. For a few beats of my heart, time seems to stand still.
When she opens her mouth again, I don’t hesitate to run the wood straight into it. I rush forward, pushing her back, until we hit the wall. Even then, I don’t stop pushing the steak with all my might. Her eyes show fear, then… nothing. They’re just blank gray orbs right in front of me.
Fabien pulls me away, and the gruesome sight I can’t seem to force my gaze away from has bile rising in my throat.
“Oh, that’s…” Fabien says with a choking gag sound. He manages to keep it down, too, and I thank my lucky stars. I really don’t want to smell the putrid scent of puke on top of the metal tinge of blood. “Nope. Not made for this kinda stuff.”
I can’t speak, so I wrap my arm around him in comfort while simultaneously turning us away from the sight of the dead witch pinned to the wall with blood pouring out of her mouth. I wish I could get someone to suppress that image from my memories.
I can’t even express how relieved I am when I see my father’s corpse in a limp heap on the desk again.
Donovan has a scowl on his face as he looks down at the man.
I know he’s wishing he could revive him just to kill him all over again.
I get it, because part of me wishes I could have done more to Sandra.
But it’s over.
Right?
Please, tell me it’s over.
A beeping noise rings out from somewhere.
It’s coming from my father’s pocket. Donovan doesn’t hesitate to rummage through the thankfully still lifeless corpse’s clothes, finding a phone and pulling it out.
He swipes a finger across the screen, stopping the offending alarm from going off.
When he looks up at me, a smile slowly creeps across his face.
I’m confused, so I stare back at him with an expression that completely conveys that.
What the heck is he smiling about? We are standing in a warehouse full of dead bodies.
I know we won, if you can call it that, but this isn’t really a smile and cheer in celebration kind of victory.
“What?” I ask, a slight nervous quake in the word.
“It’s past midnight,” he says. The way his voice rumbles sends a delicious shiver down my spine.
Fabien gasps beside me. It takes me entirely too long to realize what it means.
“We’re not dead,” I say, the shock of it written all over my face.
Donovan comes for me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his body.
I’m breathless and speechless. But it doesn’t matter because the moment he presses a hard kiss to my lips, I would have been both those things anyway.
My feet leave the floor as he lifts me up.
It’s actually quite a romantic moment, despite the horror scene around us.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined a moment similar to this, but somehow, it feels fitting for us.
“I don’t know which part broke the curse, but I’m going to say it was giving myself to you,” he whispers.
I’d like to forget the rest of it, too.
“I’m glad it worked, then,” I say, my chest tight with the questions I can’t ask. Was it real? How does he feel about me? What happens now?
“I meant it, Astra,” he tells me as he holds my gaze. “I fucking meant it. I mean it. I love you, My Beauty, and there is no one else for me. Say you feel the same.”
I swallow hard.
This is the moment. If I can’t say it now, there will never be a perfect time.
“I love you,” I choke out nervously. Not because I’m unsure of the feeling, but because I don’t know how deep his feelings go.
And there, with blood on our hands and death at our feet, he tells me in the most sure voice I’ve ever heard, “I love you, too, Astra. You are mine. I’m never fucking letting you go.”
Surprisingly, I’m okay with that threat.
The sound of shoes crunching over debris jerks us to attention.
I’m set on my feet, and Donovan protectively shoves me behind him in a blink.
A man walks across the warehouse, his steps casual, his posture collected.
He’s mostly a shadowy figure until he reaches the light spilling out of the office.
He stops short, and his gaze roams over the scene with a kind of calculation that is eerie.
He’s calm. Too calm. Once he’s taken in all the…
bodies, he looks at the four of us left standing without a flicker of emotion on his face.
“Rove,” Donovan says in a cool tone. He does look familiar, but I can’t place him.
The man says nothing. He doesn’t even move, except for a slight nod of his head.
“You’re a little late,” Torrin teases as he steps in front of us.
Rove’s eyes dance over the scene again before looking at Torrin with a raised brow.
“Right,” Torrin says with a silly shake of his head, “you’re right on time. Got it.” He laughs, but Rove just shrugs.
“You got this?” Donovan asks the silent man as he pulls me into his side and holds me close. Rove sighs heavily, and I can’t tell if he’s annoyed by the question or upset Donovan even asked it in the first place. “Yes, I see a raise in your future.”
I can’t help it, I bark out a laugh.
“Can we get out of here?” Fabien asks.
I don’t look behind me as Donovan guides us to the entrance.
I don’t look around either. I don’t want to know how many people lost their lives tonight.
And while I probably shouldn’t cry over a lot of them because they were part of a plan to kill me, I can’t help but feel a little pang of regret and sympathy for those left behind to deal with their deaths.
“What about…” Fabien starts, but there’s a long pause as his feet become stuck in place. I turn to face him, and he’s looking at Torrin with tears in his eyes. “Andre,” leaves his lips barely above a whisper.
“Let’s… see what we can find out. I heard sirens on the way to the scene when I left. So maybe…” Torrin is trying to sound hopeful, but by the look on his face, he doesn’t feel that way. He tucks Fabien under his arm as they walk out ahead of us.
I throw Donovan a worried look. It’s time to face the music, time to find out how many people lost their lives for us to live. It’s a heavy burden to carry.
I decide, right here and now, that I’m going to live for them. I’m going to make the most of this life I have. And I’m never going to forget what they’ve done for me and Donovan.
And next year, I’ll dance my heart out to see their souls safely home.