“It won’t bring him back.” But the words come too late. I’ve lost her. She’s gone. No longer listening. Having already drifted deep into the darkest recesses of her own troubled mind.
I can tell by the way her gaze goes hazy, by the way her whole body stills as she tunes in to the red-hot rage flaming within.
I can tell by the way the walls start to shake.
By the way the books begin to fall from the shelves.
By the way a flock of angel figurines soar through the room and crash into the walls before splintering toward the ground.
There’s no getting through to her.
No turning back.
She stands before me, eyes blazing, hair lifting, as her entire body trembles with fury. Fists clenched tightly as she rises up onto her toes and reaches for Jude.
So I start to say: Run!
Start to say: Make the portal and get the heck out of here!
But before I can get to the words he’s already leaped out from behind me.
Already charged her.
Already foolishly gone ahead with his plan to protect me at the expense of himself.
And as I reach for him, desperate to stop him from going any further, Haven reaches for me.
Snapping the amulet right off my neck, her face contorted, eyes burning bright, as she smiles and says, “So, Ever, how you gonna defend yourself now?”
twenty-five
She dangles the amulet before me, the crystals glinting, taunting, leaving me vulnerable, exposed, defenseless, and bare. Tossing the amulet over her shoulder as the sickening shrill of her laughter echoes through the room.
Jude clamors, hands and feet grasping, at the ready, but he’s no match for her. With barely a flick of her wrist, she’s shoved him aside, paying no notice as he flies across the store and crashes straight into the wall.
Paying no notice to the horrible sound of bones snapping and popping as he crumbles to the floor in a sad broken heap.
But as much as I long
to run to his side to see if he’s okay, I don’t do it. Can’t do it. That’ll only lead her to follow, and I can’t afford to let her get anywhere near him. For his safety, I need to keep her focused on me.
Still, I shoot him a look, mentally urging him to make the portal, to hurry up and do it while he still can, hoping he can somehow hear me. Unable to tell if his refusal to comply is due to the severity of his injuries, the gruesome mask of agony he wears on his face, the trickle of blood that flows from his mouth, or the fact that he refuses to leave me with her, determined to be there for me, no matter the cost to him.
She moves toward me, striving for slow and intimidating but nailing unsteady and shaky instead. Which, truth be told, is far more nerve-wracking than if she moved with purpose. Making it impossible to read her energy, to guess what she’ll do next, when she doesn’t even know yet herself.
She takes a swing, her fist rising, arcing, ’til it centers on me. But I duck just as quickly, moving right out from under it as I make for the other side of the room. Prompting her to turn and go after me again, tongue lodged against the inside of her cheek, her rage-fueled energy growing and expanding in a way that causes the lights to flicker, the floor to buckle, and all the glass fixtures, including the counter, to shatter and splinter.
Following me clear to the other side of the room as she says, “Nice try, Ever. But trust me, you’re only delaying the inevitable. Every time you evade me, you just make it more fun. Still, I’m in no hurry, I can play this all day if you want. But you should know that the longer you drag this out, the longer he”—she hitches her thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of where Jude lies in a barely-breathing heap—“well, the longer he’ll suffer.”
My teeth grind together, as I press my lips tightly. I’m done trying to reason with her. I did all I could. And now it’s time to put my training to use.
She charges me again, but she’s so off balance, I just step to the side at the very last moment, causing her to crash into a CD display in a way that sends her skittering across the floor right along with them. Landing hard on a pile of jagged shards of glass she broke earlier, causing a spray of blood to spatter the walls as they slice deeply into her.
But she just laughs and rolls onto her back, taking a moment to pluck the pieces from her torn flesh, her eyes glinting as she watches the cuts mend, picks herself up, brushes herself off, and faces me again.
“How does it feel to know you’re gonna die soon?” she asks, her voice raspy, ragged, revealing the effects of her efforts.
But I just look at her, shoulders lifting as I say, “I don’t know. You tell me.”