Broken Engagements
Councilman Taylor calls down a lightning strike, and Ji-hwan somersaults out of its path, his black and white fur coated in sand.
The Were looks menacing. For a moment he moves like he’s about to charge the councilman again, but before he can, he’s forced to turn and bare his fangs at an elf running full speed across the beach, a curved sword in his hands.
We were right. Councilman Taylor brought back-up.
I become dead weight, and Claude stumbles while trying to keep a hold on. I take the opportunity to twist and look for the necklace in the sand, but I don’t see it.
“This wasn’t the plan!” Claude yells at the councilman.
“Didn’t expect us to be able to find and slip by your outer defenses, hmm?” Ji-hwan yells as he dodges the angry elf.
My question of where the others are is answered when I hear a loud whoop followed by a crowd of supernaturals charging out to the beach.
Witches, warlocks, elves, and perhaps a Fae or two are in front.
They’re not so much on the attack as on the defensive, backing onto the beach with their hands raised protectively as they throw magic at their pursuers—a volmander with lava lining his arms, a one-eyed Were whose teeth are bared in an unhinged smile, a gargoyle buffeting the sands with wind from his wings, and others.
Our side is much more hodgepodge but also appears to be much more effective.
“We’re within the bounds of the spells. No need to hide your magic now. Let ’em have it!” Grammy Pearl’s voice is magically amplified, calling out to our allies.
“Get off me!” I say to Claude, throwing my head back in a sad attempt at head-butting him. I can’t scramble loose.
Starla is on her knees, her hands digging through the sand in search of the necklace. Piers circles back for another sad attempt to grab her, and she clocks him in the face. He holds what appears to be a broken nose, blood streaming through his fingers.
Councilman Taylor is busying himself with a line of Carolina Beach coven witches who are slinging magic his way.
I let myself go limp again, but this time it’s not to try dropping my weight to throw Claude off balance.
It’s in relief.
Help has arrived in the form of a striped hyena, running full speed in our direction. Jackal leaps, and Claude anticipates an attack to his middle, shifting to throw me in the hyena’s path and shield himself.
Coward.
Jackal twists, landing on his side and using his momentum to slide through the sand. Bringing his teeth to Claude’s ankles. He bites down as he goes by, yanking Claude to his knees.
The warlock tumbles, and I kick him in the face.
“You and Piers can have matching noses!” I say before walloping him again.
I bring my foot back, prepared to kick him a third time, but Claude brings up a hand and grabs my foot.
I yell, falling backward.
“Gotcha!” I twist to see Shanell holding me. The witch is wearing her real face, partially burned after the recent fight with Leon Stone’s experiments.
She must be saving her magic to help us out. I’m proven right as she sends a jet of light into Claude’s eyes. He screeches, reaching for his face.
Jackal barrels into him, making sure he doesn’t get back up.
It’s hard to believe that Shanell is allowing a full-blown battle to go down on the beach when she is in charge of policing the area. Then again, she’s smirking at the fallen warlock, and I haven’t seen her this happy since before we lost Harold.
“Are you going to have to arrest us for this? Are you going to need to arrest yourself? We’re more than disturbing the peace,” I say as I go back to looking for the necklace.
She shrugs.
“Retirement gift to myself.”
There’s no time to ask whether she truly has decided to retire after all, or what she has planned next.
I’m pulled into the arms of my mate. Jackal has his skin on again for the moment, his hands roaming over me.
“Are you all right, love?”
When I nod, he leans forward, planting a kiss on my lips that has me seeing stars. A desperate, hungry kiss. One that is far too quick.
He releases me, letting his fur coat him again.
“We have to find the necklace!” I yell.
The storm and the veritable crowd of supernaturals fighting on the sands seem determined to get in the way.
I see Brody and Ginny go by us. The red wolf shifter is guarding her, and she’s got a pan that has to be from the Sea Wench kitchens.
She’s swinging it wildly at anyone who gets too close.
She’s no fighter, but the two move in tandem, a perfect team.
Jackal lets out an eerie hyena laugh that can only mean death when an elf closes in on us, wielding a set of glowing twin daggers.
I don’t have a chance to find out just what magically imbued elven weapons can do, because the hyena weaves through his strikes and has him by the throat in moments.
“Stay with me?” I ask as we try to work our way through the crowd while continuing to look for the necklace.
“Never leaving your side again,” he promises.
They’re all here because of you. They could die because of you.
Maybe. Maybe not.
“Did someone call for me?” Never stalks across the sand in her fur.
She keeps her gaze focused on us, but when a warlock charges at her with glowing hands, she throws an arm out to her side and punches him directly in the throat.
He heaves and she steps to the side, avoiding the sick that splatters the beach.
Then she kicks him in the stomach without even breaking her stride.
He drops on the beach.
“Ugh, nasty things, some of these warlocks, eh?”
She winks.
I cannot fathom why she does that when it’s impossible to see the motion with the eye patch, but at least I’m starting to recognize the attempts.
“We need a shell necklace,” Jackal calls out to her.
“It should be glowing,” I add. “Have you seen Starla?” I’ve lost track of my friend in the fray, not to mention her father and her groom.
Never chuckles.
“Oh, I’d say she’s doing just fine. Her betrothed, though …” Never shakes her head and points.
Along the beach I can see that Piers has been coaxed over to the edge of the water. While it’s still pelting rain, I’m fairly certain he’s crying as he backs into the water.
“She was promised to me. She’s mine. I didn’t do anything wrong!” he wails.
Behind him are two terrifying beings. A large sea serpent, its head resting on the sands and its tail flicking up against Piers’s arms; and, even more frightening, a leopard seal.
Malcolm opens his mouth, showing rows of waiting teeth.
“Yes means yes,” the shifter says.
“And no means no,” my brother adds.
“Starla, did you say yes to this man?” Malcolm asks, turning to the witch, who is on the sands near them.
She shakes her head.
“Sure didn’t. At least not of my own free will, and he’s well aware of that fact.”
“Then you can leave it to us. Consider it repayment for those unseemly pics you used to receive on our app,” Cannon says.
Starla whistles.
“Now, that is service.”
Starla and Cannon are two of the only people I know who could find time for humor in the midst of a fight like this.
She turns her back on a whimpering Piers but I don’t see what happens because a lightning bolt slams into the sands not an inch from my toes.
“Where is it! Where did you hide it, you conniving little snake?” Councilman Taylor’s hair is standing on end from his own electricity. His eyes are so bright with magic that they match the lightning he readies in his palm.
Jackal growls, stepping in front of me, and the councilman takes aim.
Fire shoots out from some beach grass, hitting Councilman Taylor in the calf. He yowls, hopping on one foot for a few moments. Another shot of flames hits the toes of his shoes, and he spins, flapping to put out the fire.
Unfortunately, that puts him facing the grass, and he gets a clear view of Pickles as the basset hound emerges onto the beach. My precious pup is snarling.
The councilman sneers and redirects his aim.
“Pickles, no!”
I sprint for the grass, willing my feet to help me fly. I dive for him, but I know I’m not going to make it. Something inside me tears itself in half.
As if in slow motion, I watch the lightning from above arc unnaturally and move toward the dog.
A large form, coated in black volcanic rock for skin, scoops up my dog. They both roll across the sand. Keegan kneels on the beach, breaths coming in huffs of smoke. My dog yips, and licks the volmander across the nose.
Councilman Taylor is no quitter, and he readies another bolt of lightning.
“Found it!” I whip my head around and see Starla holding the glowing shell necklace aloft from where she’s crouched in the sands.
She stands and runs for the water.
“No!” Councilman Taylor turns his aim toward his own daughter.
“Leena! I’m giving it back! Sing!” Starla throws the necklace as her father’s lightning sparks in his hands.
I dive for the piece of jewelry, my chin hitting the sand and my arms outstretched.
The waves at the edge of the shore rush against my face.
The necklace lands in my palm. Light explodes from the piece of jewelry, throwing anyone in the vicinity back.
The magic blast incinerates other spells being lobbed through the air, including Councilman Taylor’s lightning.
Starla is staring, frozen, at her father and the air where lightning was jetting toward her moments before, aimed directly at her heart.
Even the councilman’s mouth is agape.
“I didn’t. I didn’t mean—”
“Stand down.” My voice flows through me as I get to my feet, and the sensation is no longer like fire and lashing flames. It’s soothing water. Coursing current and powerful waves.
Instead of bringing pain and chaos, the song strengthens me. Some of my aches and pains fade away, and a feeling of rightness buries itself deep in my chest.