Chapter 599: Conventional Threat
Slow.
Motion.
I heard Charlotte howling, drawn out and garbled, as I fell back, the unexpected blow bending my knees, dropping me like a rock to the stinking rooftop. My head struck the surface, bounced from the asphalt as the burning in my shoulder grew in intensity, from flames to a raging inferno.
My vampire hissed in my head, spirit magic surging even as my demon roared her rage. I struggled to sit up, hand clenching around my crystal despite the raging pain racing down my arm, my demon driving me to act, to protect myself, while the ball of fire erupted in agony, gasp worthy pain racing across my chest and down my arm, blooming in time with my heartbeat. I rolled on my side as Quaid sank to his haunches next to me, face crumpled in fear, hands reaching for me. So fast, it all happened so fast, so slow. I turned to Charlotte, in wolf form, as she leaped between me and the advancing line of dark-suited men, the one in the front pointing something at me.
At her.
Another crack of the whip. Charlotte's high-pitched yelp of canine agony drove me to my knees. I shoved Quaid aside with the shoulder that wasn't on fire, my power lunging for my bodywere as she crumpled and fell to the rooftop.
Human again as she crashed to the ground.
Fell still.
I pressed one hand to my shoulder as time came back to normal, cried out at the pain my touch caused, pulled away to find my fingers and palm slick with blood. Liander Belaisle came to a grinning halt next to Charlotte, the gun in his hand still trailing smoke from the end of the barrel.
He shot me?
Seriously?
Rage surged, my demon taking over, vampire pouring more spirit magic over the bullet hole even as I lashed out with a whip of my own, slashing across the line of sorcerers who came to challenge me.
My power died against a wall of nothing, pattering to the ground in a sheet of sparks.
More guns, more grins. All the confidence in the world.
Belaisle prodded Charlotte with one shiny shoe, towering over her quiet body though she was taller than him standing, looking down at her like he owned her. Terror clenched in my gut when she didn't move, twitch. Breathe. A large pool of wetness spread beneath her, shining in the highest lights of the city reflecting onto the rooftop.
I had to save her! My feet wouldn't support me, knees weak with fear, my power reaching for Charlotte, desperate, so desperate.
Only to find her trapped on the other side of Belaisle's control.
The wall of empty kept me from her. I gasped her name, knowing I had no time to reach her physically, to save her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Not when Belaisle turned the muzzle of his pistol and pointed it at Quaid.
Oh no, he did not.
Sydlynn, my vampire's screech bit through my shock. The weapon.
Yes. Yes, of course. This time I didn't attack the man, but his machine. He might be behind the shielding, but he foolishly allowed his gun to pass through the front edge and left it vulnerable. The black flower beneath me bloomed open, welcoming me, begging to be fed, and I obliged. The wall of empty shielding suctioned around the barrel pulled me, like magic to like until it wasn't empty anymore.
I felt Belaisle shift, his finger tightening on the trigger, touched the gun with my sorcery, used it to fight back. Poured all of my rage and hate and need to punish him into the metal in his bare hand.
Belaisle cried out in pain and fury as the gun flared red hot. He tossed it aside, smoking, turning to glare at me.
Before grinning again. And pulling back one foot and planting it in Charlotte's stomach.
She lifted from the roof at least a half foot, body flipping over before landing hard, the motion rolling her over onto her back. Her head fell to one side, face upturned toward me. A mess of black liquid coated her chest, stained her skimpy underwear, red glints showing in what light we had.
But it was her empty eyes I found myself lost in.
"You and your magic," Belaisle said as I choked on grief, consuming sadness, knowing she was-no. I couldn't think that. There had to be hope. She was playing, biding her time. Letting Belaisle think he'd beaten her. Any moment now she'd rise, fight back-
He adjusted the front of his tailored suit, worried about appearances while my bodywere-my friend-continued to bleed on the filthy rooftop. His fingers brushed over the small goatee on his chin as I turned slowly back to him, letting the grief spin into a tornado of hate fueling my power. "You forget there are other means, Miss Hayle. Much more effective." He strode past Charlotte's quiet form while I shook inside, grief still fighting, though my rage won for now as my demon, vampire and Sidhe princess fought to keep me level.
Level. What good balance when Charlotte was-
"I'm not certain mere bullets will be able to kill you at this point," the blood had already stopped flowing from my shoulder as my vampire did her work, "thanks to what you're becoming." He stopped a few feet away, hands sliding into his trouser pockets. "Yes, my dear, I know exactly what you're becoming." Bastard.
Charlotte was right.
Killing was the only option.
But Charlotte was-
"Bullets will, however, kill your friends." Belaisle gestured behind him. The sound of guns cocking froze me in place.
I should never have brought them with me.
Never.
Belaisle's gaze fell on Demetrius and, for the first time, a flash of real anger crossed his face.
"I should have put you out of your misery the last time we met, Strong." Belaisle's voice lost the silky polish of polite society, a more common accent, something rough and almost backwoods, tainting his speech.
Poser. I knew it.
Demetrius stuck out his tongue, thumbs in his ears, waggling his fingers at the Brotherhood leader. "Sticks and stones, Andy," he said.
Would have been funny.
If not for Charlotte-
Wasn't.
"Well then," Belaisle said. "I'll just have to correct that mistake, won't I?" He half-turned, calling over his shoulder. "Bring my crystal. I'll drain him first. And a new gun."
"They know about you now," I said, spit out around the knowledge Charlotte wasn't getting up again. Belaisle ignored me, turned as one of the Brotherhood stepped forward, placing a cloth bag in one of his leader's hands and a dull black pistol in the other. But I kept going anyway, babbling, furious.
Heartbroken.
"The Enforcers will find you and destroy this machine." I wished I believed it.
Belaisle laughed as he slid the crystal from the bag, holding it in his left hand while he balanced the new gun in his right. He took his time, still standing confidently behind his wall of protection, gun and all. Too bad he wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. I could feel it better now, his shielding, thanks to my own sorcery. He called on the ranks of sorcerers he brought with him, almost blotting himself out from magical view so much power poured into it. "How foolish and romantic and utterly ridiculous." He pointed the crystal at Demetrius. "Tell her, Strong. Tell her no one will come."
Demetrius whined softly, looked away.
Yeah, I wasn't holding out hope either. And I was now out of threats.
Your maji power is all we have left, my vampire sent.
He'll kill them, I sent back with my soul collapsing inside me, my eyes settling on Charlotte-
Stop it. My vampire's power slapped me, hard. We can't think about her now, Syd. Even if it means they die. That we die. We have to stop Belaisle.
I squeezed the crystal in my hand, the pain of the sharp edges digging in. Pain brought clarity, even as the wakened crystal fed the dark flower beneath me. It continued to gape open, welcoming me. But it wasn't alone. I had them all now, all magicks, access to more than enough. And thanks to the blood staining my skin, I had the final trigger to waken my creation magic.
Rage ruling me, all of my magicks begging to be freed, I called on the maji.
Felt my power come together.
Just as Demetrius howled in rage and leaped for Belaisle.
***
