Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Dragon’s Eye fights me. Oh boy, does it fight me—the Dragon’s Eye rips, bites, and claws. The pain is so bad I’m surprised I’m not bleeding. I worry it’s shredding my soul, but I keep going. I don’t have a choice. I must fight.
I once again gather my wards and flood them with power, making them thicker and like a dome. They surround it entirely while I pick it apart. Its magic is like a tangled knot—a knot I must unravel.
It has had so much autonomy for such a long time that it doesn’t want to relinquish its power.
It has been allowed to do what it pleases for centuries.
It isn’t like my charms, which are happy and eager to please.
I need to learn a lesson from this charm and make sure to give my magic thorough guidelines.
I need to add something to the charms scattered throughout the world that they can protect but not inflict harm. It might be tricky, and maybe I’ll need help from someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone like the silver dragon.
He must have knowledge and skill. Shit, he charmed the shifters. I think he’ll be able to help me.
The Dragon’s Eye continues to fight me. I tried this for the first and only time with my magic, and the energy wanted to come back to me. It’s not like I destroyed them when I pulled the power out. That power, that essence, has created other charms over the past few weeks. My charms never die.
But this thing, this evil, nasty charm, corrupts everything it touches while taking life force. It needs to be destroyed.
I can see in the centre of it, and perhaps once upon a time, it was beautiful. But now there’s no trace of what it should have been. It’s like a corrupt, festering wound full of nasty bacteria. I work my way through the ooze and the rot. To the centre, find its heart, and then I pull and twist.
The magic holding the Dragon’s Eye together snaps.
My ears ring with the sound of its rage, and then power rushes to me. I mentally take a step back. Oh fate. What am I going to do with this power? I’ve only done this once, and I’d sucked the magic back into me, but I don’t want this rotten magic. I don’t want it at all, rotting away at my insides.
On the cusp of panic, I swallow down my fear. I don’t want to do this anymore, but this is my responsibility. Even if I only want to curl up in a corner and cry. Who else is going to do this? Who else can? I wish the silver dragon would come and sort this shit out. I’m sure it’s his bloody duty.
Instead, here, now, there’s just me.
I groan, and then I do something brilliant. Or I do something terrible.
I remember what I’ve learned about magical signatures and tracing people. As I unmake the Dragon’s Eye, I keep a solid metaphysical grip on the wiggling, rancid power, and with my next breath, I push it into the creatures with the Dragon’s Eye’s magical signature.
All the magical signatures connected to the Dragon’s Eye get a dose of power.
Every last remaining member of the Claw Brotherhood. All fourteen are here guarding this building. I know it will be too much for their bodies to take, but I do it anyway.
It doesn’t take long. Damien wobbles on his feet, and his gap-toothed grin freezes on his face. He coughs, gargles a little bit, and then there’s a puff, and he’s gone.
A black substance falls to the floor in a small pile, as if he’s been instantly cremated. I stare at the pile. The magic holding me in the chair disappears, and I lean forward and nudge the pile with my foot.
Oh okay.
Where Anton Hill was standing, there is another pile of dust. And another near the door and another by the window. I rub my prickly arms and then cover my mouth as I gag. I have a sudden and unexpected bout of dry heaves.
Fate, I killed them.
I stare at the four little piles, which seem inconsequential, such tiny things from four scary guys.
There’s a bang as a door downstairs gets kicked in.
Then almost silent footsteps.
The door opens, and the breeze wafts the piles, so they’re not piles anymore but kind of spread out a little bit.
The gargoyle is here.
Unbeknownst to me, one of my wards has taken it upon itself to spring up to protect the room, and Soren walks right through it. “Huh,” he says in surprise as he continues to move towards me. The umbrella charm lets him in. An acknowledgement that he’s trusted.
That I trust him.
I don’t know how many times he’s been blasted by my wards while I’ve been unconscious, but the stubborn gargoyle didn’t think twice about walking through it to get to me, to help me.
He drops to his knees, gently takes my face, and his big thumbs brush my cheekbones. “Kricket, are you all right?” he asks. “Did they hurt you?”
I stare into his beautiful pale green eyes and can’t form words.
The dying screams from the Dragon’s Eye still echo in my ears.
The dead charm stuck to my chest crumbles.
Leaving black shards and ash in my bra and across my chest. It’s uncomfortable, but I ignore it for now.
My cleaning charm rescues me. The smell of lemon and vanilla fills my nose as the mop charm whisks it away.
“Kricket? Nothing girl, are you okay?”
“They’re gone,” I say softly. “I, I, um, I, I killed them.”
“Good.” He kisses me on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly warm and soft, and I lean into his touch.
“We were so worried about you. I was worried about you. Forrest, Owen, and Jeff are outside hunting the other Claw Brotherhood members, but they seem to have gone. Come on, let’s get you back to the house. ”
“Anton Hill killed two police officers and… I, I, I killed them.”
“I know about the police officers, and if any people deserved killing, it was them.”
“All fifteen of them.”
Soren’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t ask any further questions. He gently holds my hands and helps me up. My legs feel wooden, and when I try to take a step forward, I can’t.
“They’re, um, they’re on the floor. They’re the dust. That’s them.” I point. “They’re on the floor.”
Soren eyes the floor, at the dust in front of my toes, and then back at me with compassion. His big hands creep around my waist, and he lifts me. He holds me above the floor, sweeps me into his arms, and carries me princess-style across the room so I don’t have to stand on them.
I know it’s stupid, but by doing that, I fall just a little bit more in love with him.