Chapter 25
Showdown
Dodger
This ends now.
I burst through the ornate double doors of Rowan’s rented penthouse, Melody at my heels, fury burning through every cell in my body. Smug bastard didn’t even lock his door and he’s going to pay for that now.
He’ll pay for a lot of things.
The image of Harper, bloodied and struggling to breathe, flashes in my mind, fueling my rage. This bastard has hurt too many people. He’s not getting away with it anymore.
Rowan looks up from his leather armchair, a glass of red wine frozen halfway to his lips.
Classical music plays softly. Harper might know the composer if he were—I push that thought away.
It’s up to me and Mel now. Case files are spread across his mahogany coffee table.
The look on Rowan’s face is fucking priceless.
His wine glass slips from his fingers and spills all over his papers.
His surprise lasts only a second before his face settles into that smug expression I’ve grown to hate. “Dodger, what a pleasant surprise.”
I don’t waste time with words. I whistle and push my power into the hound by my side. Without looking, I know her eyes begin to glow purple, matching the energy flowing from me to her. I can feel the connection between us humming like a perfectly tuned guitar string.
“Now!” I shout.
Rowan rises from his chair as Melody’s howl rips through the penthouse.
The wine glass shatters right before her howl reaches the bastard we’re gunning for.
I watch with grim satisfaction as Rowan freezes mid-step, his body caught in Melody’s paralyzing cry.
His eyes, though, can still move, and they’re burning with rage as they lock onto mine.
“Not so powerful now, are you?” I snarl “This is for Harper. And for everyone else you’ve hurt.”
I allow myself a small smile of triumph. Melody and I stalk closer—then everything goes wrong.
A faint glow appears from beneath Rowan’s expensive silk shirt. Something hanging around his neck pulses with an unnatural light.
“What the—”
A shrill, piercing noise explodes in my ears without warning.
“Fuck!” I cry out, clapping my hands over my ears. The sound is so invasive, like someone’s drilling directly into my brain. Beside me, Melody whines in agony, her spectral form flickering as her concentration breaks.
The power holding Rowan’s body dissipates, the paralysis fading. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and steps forward with a predatory smile as he pats the glowing amulet.
Just as suddenly as it began, the noise stops, leaving my ears ringing in the sudden silence.
“Given your fondness for music and what your little dog does, I took some precautions.” Rowan laughs, adjusting his cuffs like we’re at a business meeting instead of a fight to the death. “You think I wouldn’t be prepared? I’ve been studying you, Dodger. Learning your weaknesses.”
“You don’t know shit about me,” I snarl, straightening up. Was he expecting me? It doesn’t matter. I can still finish this.
“I know enough,” Rowan says. “I know that without your little musical tricks, you’re nothing but a kid playing with powers he doesn’t understand.”
Melody’s hackles rise as she positions herself between me and Rowan.
“Melody, let’s show him what we can really do.”
My guitar is strapped to my back, and I reach for it, swinging it around as my hands find the chords with ease, muscle memory taking over as I channel my rage into music.
“Round two, asshole,” I spit, striking a powerful chord that sends vibrations rippling through the air.
I try to hit the asshole with sound waves made of my necromantic energy instead of relying on my hound, but she still helps.
Melody lunges forward, becoming solid, her jaws snapping at Rowan’s leg.
Rowan dives sideways, rolling behind his sofa as Melody’s teeth miss him by inches. I advance, playing a series of aggressive notes that make the windows rattle, building up my energy. He’s not getting away that easily. We can still catch him.
As we try to trap him between us, he springs up, flipping his coffee table and making me duck out of the way.
Melody’s hot on his heels, but Rowan reaches a desk deeper in the room first, yanking open a drawer. He hurls the vial he finds inside directly at her.
“Melody, dodge!” I scream, but it’s too late.
The vial shatters around her, releasing a mist that swirls around her like a miniature storm.
Melody yelps, a sound that cuts me to the core as the mist solidifies into what looks like a glowing cage.
She throws herself against the bars, but bounces back, trapped.
Even her spirit form can’t penetrate the cage.
“No!” I watch her howl uselessly, the sound contained within her prison.
Fury floods my system. My fingers fly across the strings of my guitar as I play the strongest tune I can muster. The notes are violent, discordant, filled with my desperation. The sound waves batter the bars, but they don’t break.
Rowan laughs, drawing my attention, and I see him reach for something on his desk—a small remote.
“Another precaution,” he says calmly, and presses a few buttons.
The silence that follows is absolute.
The sound—my music and energy—suddenly vanishes. My fingers still move across the strings, but no tune comes out. It’s like someone hit mute on the entire world. I can see Melody’s jaws opening, but I hear nothing. Not even the sound of my own frantic breathing reaches my ears.
Without sound, my music is useless.
I stare at Rowan in horror as he mouths something I can’t hear, his smile widening.
That’s one small mercy, not being able to hear him gloat.
It’s around this time I conclude that Rowan was indeed expecting me.
He didn’t leave his door unlocked accidentally or carelessly.
He wanted this. He got Harper out of the way and provoked me into coming after him.
And I walked right into his trap. Shit.
I may be an idiot, but I’m not giving up that easily. Fuck it. If I can’t use my powers, I’ll do this the old-fashioned way.
I swing my guitar onto my back and charge at him, aiming straight for Rowan’s smug face. If I can’t use magic, I’ll use my fists. Harper would be proud—or call me an idiot. Probably both.
Rowan doesn’t seem concerned by my physical attack. As I get within striking distance, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out that ostentatious pocket watch of his. It dangles from his fingers, catching the light as it begins to swing back and forth.
I try to look away, knowing what’s coming, but it’s too late. The watch captures my attention, its motion hypnotic. The room starts to tilt and spin around me. My limbs feel heavy, uncoordinated. I stumble, my forward momentum carrying me straight into Rowan’s fist.
The blow connects with my jaw, sending pain shooting through my face.
I crumple to my knees, the world spinning wildly around me.
Blood trickles from my split lip. I try to get up, but my limbs won’t cooperate.
The room keeps tilting, the disorientation charm from his watch still gripping my senses.
Rowan stands over me, clicking the remote again. Sound rushes back into the world—the hum of the air conditioning, Melody’s frantic barking from her cage, and Rowan’s smug voice, dripping with satisfaction. “I win,” he says.