Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Instead of going straight to the gateway, as I fear, I’m tugged left and through the back door of an old office building that has long been abandoned. The mould in the entryway is ridiculous, and the walls are almost black.
Anton pokes me in the back and forces me up some stairs.
The narrow staircase creaks under our combined weight. The wooden treads are worn, and with the trip hazard of a ratty maroon carpet holding on for grim death, I have to be careful where I put my feet.
When we get to the top, there’s a square landing. Anton opens the only door and walks in first. Dave, the driver, prods me to follow.
The abandoned office occupies the entire floor.
Weak, natural light filters through the dirty windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls, marred by peeling paint and more mould patches.
Cobwebs drape from the ceiling and the dark fluorescent lights.
An ancient filing cabinet stands open in one corner, its drawers askew.
Behind a wooden desk that has seen better days is Damien Hass.
Nice place you’ve got here, Damien.
We stare at each other.
The silence is thick, broken only by the distant hum of traffic from the street below and the occasional creak of the building settling.
Damien isn’t looking well. His eyes and skin have got a yellowish tint as if he has liver failure, and when he opens his mouth to talk, I notice he’s missing a few prominent teeth.
“Ah, here she is,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankles.
I do my best not to wince. I don’t know if I succeed as Damien’s eyes narrow and his jaw ticks.
Worse than the tone of his skin and his teeth is the damage to his soul.
His soul is a complete and utter mess. It’s black and bubbled with huge gaping holes.
It’s as if the evil Dragon’s Eye magic is eating him.
He’s dying.
Goosebumps of horror pepper my arms, and I want to back away from him with a scream but force my feet to stay still. It’s not like I can go anywhere. Anton moves behind me to stand next to the filing cabinet. Dave’s bulk blocks the door, and another guard in the room blocks the windows.
Damien’s only got three guys. Is that the extent of the Claw Brotherhood? I hope so. I close my eyes and with my magic I count, there are fourteen.
“Did you have any problems?” Damien directs his question over my shoulder at Anton.
“No, sir.”
“Good lad.” Damien smiles and leans across the desk.
Again I have his full attention. “If I didn’t need you, Kricket Jones, I’d beat the ever-loving shit out of you.
You need to learn some respect, girl.” Some spit dribbles out the corner of his mouth as if he’s not yet used to missing teeth.
He pulls the Dragon’s Eye from his pocket, and for the first time, he openly shows it to me.
The monstrous thing sits almost innocently in the centre of this palm.
“You made a fool out of me pretending you had no magic. I had you, and you tricked me. I’ve been running around after you for weeks.
I’ve lost men, good men.” His hand tremors slightly as he holds the Dragon’s Eye out.
“I’m sure Anton has told you of our plan.
We are going to use you until you burn out. ”
Burn out like you?
I keep my mouth shut while inside, I shudder. I mentally put my brave knickers on and dare to give him a look I borrowed from Forrest. It’s a look that can’t be copied, but I do my best. It’s her combination of you’re-shit-out-of-luck and are-you-kidding expressions.
Classic badarse.
Damien huffs and leans back in his chair. “The Brotherhood was made for dragons. It’s our duty to serve them.”
“To serve them?” I splutter. The words rush out of my mouth without thinking. “So why are you trying to capture him—” I yelp as Anton reaches over and smacks me on the back of the head.
“Don’t be rude, Kricket,” he reprimands me, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me down into a chair. “Now, sir?”
“No time like the present, lad.” Damien nods his approval, folds his fingers over the Dragon’s Eye in his hand, and under his breath begins to chant.
Oh no. Fuck that. I’m not sitting here while he works his magic. I’ve seen what that thing can do, and I do not want that power aimed at me. I scramble to my feet.
Anton grabs ahold of my neck and violently slams me back into the chair. Seconds later, the Dragon’s Eye shoots black sparks, and at Damien’s command, the sparks thicken to smoky black ropes. Through the air, they crawl towards me, pulsing with diseased magic.
I can’t think, and I struggle to breathe with Anton Hill’s hand gripping tightly around my throat. I whimper as the smoke touches me. It solidifies, and bands of magic coil around my body like a snake attacking prey.
It pins me to the chair.
Damien walks around the desk.
He seems to take forever, and all the while, he chuckles like a Disney villain.
“I’ll kill everyone you care about and anyone who cares about you.
” His voice is conversational. I don’t know what expression he’s reading on my face, but Damien takes great delight.
“They will die, and you’ll know it’s your fault. ”
I hate him.
I squeak as he hooks his index finger into my top and, with a perverted smirk, pulls the fabric away from my chest. His other hand comes up, and he drops the Dragon’s Eye. It lands on the bare skin of my chest and adheres to my collarbone.
My heart pounds as if he chucked a scorpion into my bra.
If given the choice, I’d prefer the scorpion.
I don’t want that thing near me. I hiss.
Ow, it’s painful. Tiny little barbs are digging into my skin, burying into my collarbone.
I do my best to stay calm. I won’t give him the satisfaction of screaming.
“Ah,” he says. “I almost forgot.” He smiles as he snatches hold of my forearm.
Due to the magical rope sticking me to the chair, he can’t lift my arm high, but he yanks it up as far as it can go and leans towards me.
Damien smells of rotting meat. His fingers rub against the soft skin on the inside of my wrist where the null band sits.
The null band heats and dissipates, returning to the Dragon’s Eye as he drops my wrist.
Oh, thank fate.
I haven’t got time to waste. Immediately, I pull all my magic away from the Dragon’s Eye and chest and further into my body.
Then I nudge the cloud, asking the ward charms to help.
Several answer my call, and instead of warding me or the room, I delicately gather the power and slide it inside me, directly underneath the Dragon’s Eye, to ensure that it can’t dig any deeper.
In response to my defensive magic, the barbs in the Dragon’s Eye bite down harder. I grit my teeth as pain rolls down my chest and into my shoulders. I can feel its frustration as it meets and batters against the wards.
Damien doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t. The men are talking and laughing, but I can’t understand them while I’m battling with this disgusting thing.
It’s stronger than three of my wards working together to protect my soul.
But it’s not stronger than me.
It’s not stronger than my magic.
You’ve had your chance. Now let’s see what I can do with you.
It’s my turn to dig my metaphysical fingers into its filthy power, just like I did weeks ago when, on the fly, I turned random jewellery into charms to heal the town. Right after that, I deactivated the power, rendering the charms inert and returning them to their original state.
I do the same thing.
My magic grabs hold of the Dragon’s Eye, and I unmake it.