59
Savannah
Jaxson parked out front of the big red house that had become like my second home—or at least, it had been before I’d almost killed Laurel in front of Casey.
Jaxson turned off the truck and looked over at me. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my bloodstained jeans and sucked in a breath. “It’s the only way we can be sure that Dragan stays dead.”
The front door opened, and Laurel stepped out onto the porch, concern cutting her face.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked.
Jaxson’s signature pressed into me, and my nerves settled. Dried blood streaked his skin and beard, and I couldn’t help the pangs of desire that rang through my body. He was savage and lethal, and maybe it was the aftershocks of near death, but at that moment, I wanted all of him. First, however, I needed to settle the score with Dragan.
“I’ve got this one.” Scooping up the black pouch with the talisman, I squeezed Jax’s hand and carefully slid out of the cab. We’d picked up a couple of Alia’s healing potions from Sam on the drive over, but my body still felt bruised and broken.
Laurel went rigid as she took in my form, which I’m sure was a sight. My clothes were torn and caked with blood—my own and others’—and my hair was a wild mess.
“Are you injured? Do you need one of Pete’s healing potions?” she asked calmly, though I could sense her fear and concern. She glared at Jaxson, who’d stayed in the truck, as she opened the front door and ushered me inside.
I recalled how Casey had protested about Uncle Pete’s potions after he’d busted his ankle at the Magic Moon Motel, and a sharp pain lanced my heart. “No, I’m good, but thanks. Is Casey here?”
She slid the locks on the door into place and turned to me. “He’s not.”
The pained expression on her face told me everything she couldn’t, and a lump of sorrow rose in my throat.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
Pushing aside my grief for my cousin, I opened my palm, revealing the black linen pouch. “We got him.”
The weight of those three words finally settled over me.
Laurel sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her hand to the base of her throat. “My gods, you did it. How?”
“Thanks to you, we tracked down the art dealer and retrieved Dragan’s finger. A contact at the Order used it to make a talisman, and…well, long story short, we got the asshole.” I fought back the horrors that bombarded my mind: Alejandro, the vampires, Bentham, the Crusher squeezing my skull… I swallowed hard. “Now I need to destroy this thing. For good. I was hoping we could let the Sphere of Devouring put an end to this madness.”
Laurel reached out to touch me, but I flinched, and she dropped her hand to her side. “You’ve been through so much, Savannah. Too much for one soul to bear, and I’m so sorry for that. Let’s get rid of Victor Dragan for good. Come on.”
I followed her into the drawing room and took a seat on the antique red couch, where all of this had started. I no longer was the same naïve girl. I had blood on my hands and darkness inside of me now. Would I ever be whole again?
Laurel retrieved the wooden platter that held the Sphere of Devouring and set it down on the coffee table in front of me. I recognized the nine-pointed star and ring of runes. Once, they’d seemed alien, but now they were familiar.
She pulled away the velvet cloth that was draped over the sphere, revealing the floating black orb. Worried that somehow, after all of this, Dragan might find a way to escape, I clutched the cursed talisman tightly as Laurel traced her fingers across the runes. They glowed blue, and then the magic of the sphere exploded around us.
Vertigo turned my stomach, and I braced my free hand on the couch. But this time, I didn’t feel like I was falling into an abyss.
“Ready?” Laurel asked, seemingly unfazed by the energy whipping off the orb like a million magic lightning bugs pulsing at once.
“What do I do?” The last time the sphere and I had interacted hadn’t ended well, and I didn’t want it devouring my magic along with Dragan’s.
Laurel watched me closely, her expression serious. “Offer the talisman to it but be clear with your intentions. The Sphere will try to take whatever magic it can, including your own. Let it know what it may and may not take.”
My heart thrummed against my chest as my stomach knotted.
Don’t get us killed, Wolfie said.
I opened the pouch and slid the talisman into my palm. It was warm to the touch and gave off a pulsing green glow that felt wrong. I looked to the Sphere of Devouring, unsure of exactly what to say but certain that it had to be precise.
“I offer you this talisman that is holding the soul and magic of Victor Dragan. You may only take it, and nothing more.” I glanced at Laurel, and she nodded.
“Goodbye, Dragan,” I whispered. The instant I moved my hand that was holding the talisman, a force pulled it toward the sphere.
“Do not touch the sphere!” Laurel said. “Use your magic to counter its force.”
I gasped and pulled back, my fist inches from the black orb of devouring. My muscles ached, and my arm felt like it was being torn from its socket, but I couldn’t open my fist to release the talisman.
Help me, Wolfie.
My strength isn’t what you need. Call your magic, she answered anxiously.
My arm was shaking from the strain, but I closed my eyes and focused on drawing my magic. It came forth easily, like the sphere was drawing it out. Cool waves of energy flowed through me, and I opened my eyes. Shadows coalesced around me, and a dark tendril snaked around my arm, enveloping my clenched fist.
Release it, said the oddly familiar voice I couldn’t quite place.
The force that was tugging me lessened, and all the tension in my body released.
This was it.
I opened my fingers, and the talisman flew into the black orb. Gone. An explosion of energy cascaded from the orb, knocking Laurel and me back, and shaking the house. In seconds, it was over, and everything was still.
Tension twisted in my stomach, and I looked to my aunt. “Did it work?”