Chapter 20 #3
Impulse brought my hand to the box protectively. My body went on defense until the heaviness of his question hit me. My eyes met his.
“It is growing stronger. Soon fae from all around will be able to feel it . . . sense it.”
“What?” My mouth parted. “You can feel it?”
Jethro’s eyes shot down to my hands, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
“I’m not exactly normal among fae either.
” His suggestive tone hit my chest like an arrow.
He clearly sensed I wasn’t right, but what was he?
“This magic grows louder and stronger every day. It won’t be long until others pick up on it too, bringing them straight to us. ”
It was why necromancers had guarded over it for so long, eclipsing the power coming off it, hiding it from the world. And I carried it around, thinking it was safe with me when I was only empowering it, growing its voice from a whisper to a song.
“I will leave.”
“This city is infested with officers.” Jethro shook his head. “We only have one more day here before we move on. Wait until we get closer to Kyiv. It will be easier to disappear from there.”
Or it would lead me right to the viper den.
“I think you will be safe until then.” He tapped the brim of his hat. “Goodnight, Laura.” He winked, slipping through the heavy shadows and disappearing.
I didn’t move, suddenly realizing the peril I carried in my hands, a beacon to bring in anyone who felt its power.
Everywhere I went, I was a threat, a danger to my friends, to the troupe here.
More and more, I realized the danger of this nectar.
Of thinking I could hold on to it even if I didn’t use it.
Stepping back to the wagon I stayed in, I no longer wanted to join the group. Their merriment and laughs carried to me, making me feel even more like an outsider—one that could destroy the life they had built for themselves here.
I took two steps before I felt Warwick, the link between us yanking my shade from my body and pulling me to him.
Suddenly, I stood in a familiar woodsy area, a circus poster lying on the ground as men in Ukrainian uniforms stomped over it, spraying bullets at a dozen figures. My eyes found the man leading them.
Tracker.
Dread trapped a scream in my lungs.
Feeling the magnetic pull, my heart lurched into my throat, my attention going to the man who stood a foot above all others.
Warwick.
His aqua eyes burned into me, feeling him in every fiber of my being, my heart surging with emotion.
A cry of pain filled the air, and I stood helplessly while Birdie and Wesley got shot. In the distance, there was already a body on the ground.
Rosie.
Terror took over, my eyes popping back to Warwick.
“Use me!” I screamed, still feeling my body back at the circus. I let go of my mind being there, ramming myself into Warwick before he could even respond, giving him everything I had.
Our bond fused, blistering with heat, exploding with magic.
I could feel him grip on to it, pulling from me.
My body was on fire as he consumed and seized from me.
There was no difference between us, my shadow rubbing over his soul, sliding up into his muscles, locking down in his bones, giving him power.
A roar cut through the air as Warwick swiped the claw weapon, severing two soldiers’ heads before they could even understand what happened.
The Legend came alive. I could feel him in my veins, see the sparks of color behind my lids. He didn’t ask politely or shrink back from taking too much. He shredded through what I offered, sinking in deeper, taking more as he sliced through the throng of officers.
My energy was already limited from my training earlier; my knees dropped to the ground with a grunt, the box tumbling from my hands. The wave of magic pumping into him burned through me quickly, and I could feel him demanding more. I slumped over, the link starting to flicker.
No! My mind wailed. Not now. He needed me. Needed my strength, my magic. There were still too many to defeat.
The box lay within my grasp. The nectar inside would give me the unbridled magic I needed for him. Magic he could feast on.
I stretched my fingers, reaching out, my energy waning every second. Grasping the box, I unlatched it. I could feel its pulse, the energy within it wanting to be used, craving my touch as much as I craved it. The tips of my fingers almost grazed the surface.
“No!” A shoe pressed down on my hand, pain zapping up my nerves, breaking my link with Warwick like a fuse. A cold darkness replaced the connection between us. The moment my shadow pulled away, my physical body heaved with air, my face in the dirt, spots impeding my vision.
Turning my head, I saw Esmeralda standing over me, tranced, her eyes glazed over, her voice monotone, not sounding like herself. But it wasn’t Tad, either.
“Fire. Death. Ruin . . . they follow in your wake. It cannot be controlled. The more you take from it, the more it will take from you. Until you lose more than your mind and soul.”
Her words were the last I heard before everything went black.