Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Atticus’s fangs flash, and he buries his teeth into the host’s neck. His black eyes glisten with satisfaction as they meet mine. The ground beneath my feet lets me go and I stumble away.
When I sent a message to Owen, I also sneakily sent a message to Atticus with two questions: what was his girl called, and did he want to meet her potential killer? My magic brought back his answers: Rebecca Lynch—and if I gave him Rebecca’s killer, he would be eternally grateful.
When my magic moved Owen to where he was needed, it yanked Atticus here.
I look away from the vampire and block out the noise of his feeding. I don’t like violence, but I understand justice.
Even if justice makes me a little queasy.
My knees knock together, and I rub my throat, then my aching neck.
I never want to be in that position again, with an enemy’s hand wrapped around my throat.
I need to be better, stronger.
“Tuesday, I did what I could to protect you. I am sorry I could not tell you,” says a pained voice. I raise my eyes from a spot on the floor and meet Larry’s pleading green gaze.
Oh no, Larry! The magical construct is translucent. “Larry? What’s happening?” Why does he no longer appear real?
“You freed me from a monster. Please forgive me for my treachery. I am glad you are safe.” I watch him fade into nothingness. “Thank you for showing me what it was like to have a friend…”
“Oh, Larry, of course, I forgive you.” I reach out and brush the empty air. My hand trembles. I fold my arms underneath my chest, so I am hugging myself.
I hear a thump, like something heavy falling to the ground.
Like a body. I gulp, hunch, and keep my back turned.
I have already seen a dead person today.
I do not want to see another. A second later, the magic of the realm floods into me.
My connection to the realm is restored, and it is stronger than ever.
The feeling is so powerful, I stagger. I have to peek at my feet to double-check I’m still on the ground, as I could swear that I am floating.
My hair follicles tingle and when I pat my head, my hair crackles with power. Freaky.
Oh gosh, what am I doing? I need to help my coven, is my next urgent thought.
Eagerly, the realm’s magic hunts down each trespasser. The mercenaries do not stand a chance. Removing their weapons, we pluck them up as if they are just pieces of a board game and Step them to the hotel reception, where they are frozen solid in place while they wait for me to deal with them.
“Tuesday,” Atticus says.
I can’t. I can’t turn around. I’ll vomit. I hunch into myself. “Yes,” I answer him with stiff lips.
“Here.” His hand reaches over my shoulder and a heavy bronze ring settles in my palm. “He was wearing it. It is rightfully yours as it is full of magic—your realm’s magic.”
My precious, Gollum from The Lord of the Rings coos in my head. Crikey, I am such a weirdo. The ring is so heavy in my hand. I frown down at it and give it a poke with my index finger. The power inside gives me a little nip.
“Thank you, and thanks for coming to my aid.” I decide to put the ring in the little pocket of my jeans for safekeeping.
I flip it between my fingers so I can slide it inside.
When it touches the fabric, the ring comes apart and becomes a single piece of metal.
I freeze. Oh, that’s not… The ring, like something from a horror movie, jumps and wraps itself around my right ring finger. It tightens.
A whimper leaves my throat as I come out of my strange paralysis and then, as if my hand is on fire, I flap it about like a crazy person.
Get off, get off, get the fuck off! Yeah, as if shaking it will dislodge it.
I go to yank it off. I yelp. The little bugger shocked me! Ouch, that was more than just a nip.
My hand shakes as I hold it as far away from my body as I can. I hiss and brace it with my other hand when what feels like a thousand barbs dig into my skin, muscle, and then the bone of my poor finger. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” My stomach twists and the pain makes me want to vomit.
When I am about to hyperventilate and do something stupid like, I don’t know, grab a blade out of the ether and chop my damn finger off with the sheer overwhelming panic I’m feeling, the pain stops.
I lick my dry lips.
“I have seen nothing like that before. Jewellery is not normally that rambunctious,” Atticus says.
My wide eyes swivel towards him. “Yeah, no kidding. It really wanted on my finger.” My chest aches.
Cautiously, as if the ring is a dangerous animal, I remove my stabilising hand to rub my chest. My heart pounds underneath my palm.
“Crap-on-a-cracker. That was scary.” I clear my throat and blow out a breath.
After a few more seconds and no further pain, the previously inert silver swirls on the back of my hand get in on the action.
Uh-oh.
They pulse in time to my pounding heart and then they change direction. They straighten and flow towards my abused finger and the ring. Like an electric circuit.
“Do you want me to cut it off?” Atticus asks matter-of-factly.
“No!” I squeak as I tuck my hand against my chest. “I don’t think so. No. At least it’s no longer hurting me.” It’s not draining my power either. Somehow it makes me feel more centred. The power of the realm is now crystal clear. Honestly, can this day get any crazier?
Atticus tilts his head as he stares at my hand. “I believe this might be how he used his magic outside the realm.”
“Oh.” Atticus is right. The ring is packed full of magic, and things that were bugging me now make sense.
Answers slide into place. “I forgot he was Stepping in the real world.” And smashing powerful wards in minutes, destroying magic that would have taken anyone else hours, if at all.
I then remember crocodile lady smirking at me when she noticed I didn’t have a ring.
“The other hosts have the same ring,” I mutter.
The silence stretches between us.
“Do you urm… want the body?” I ask awkwardly.
What the feck, Tuesday?
Well, I don’t know what the hell I am doing. This is stressful and I have no idea about revenge protocol!
“No. No, thank you.” Atticus smirks.
I rub my face. “Okay.” I then nod my head like a nodding dog and allow the magic of the realm to absorb the dead host’s body. Without looking, I somehow know he’s disappeared.
I stare down at the ring. As he was the original host, the realm should technically die with him, but because of me, the realm is stronger and healthier than ever.
Gosh, I still have so much to learn. Everything written about hosts seems to mislead or be outright lies. I have so much to do… Wow, it is going to be an adventure.
“I need to deal with everything.”
“Of course. Oh, Tuesday, I would prefer you not transport me. It makes me want to vomit,” Atticus says, looking a little vulnerable trusting me with his honesty.
I nod. “Okay.”
I wonder if my Stepping makes others sick or if my new friend, the big bad pureblood vampire, has got a weak stomach from all the blood. I will have to ask Owen.
Owen. My mind and magic automatically go to him. He has tracked the mercenaries back to reception and is guarding them, still in his wolf form. I can feel how anxious he is, so I send reassuring thoughts through the magic.
Right. I better get to it. I need to deal with the mercenaries. The longer they stay, the more at risk we are of them combating my magic. Boy, they have some questions to answer. I already know, or can guess, most of what’s happened. The host’s slimy fingerprints are all over everything.
“Tuesday, thank yo—”
“Think nothing of it,” I rudely interrupt, my voice squeaky. “Really don’t.”
The scary pureblood vampire chuckles, and I turn and hurry away. I leave him standing there to make his own way back.
Just before I wrap the magic around me to Step, I send a magic call to everyone in the realm to let them know everything is safe, and the emergency is over. I then send another magic message to my coven, for them to meet Owen and me at reception.