Heartache (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 5) (3 page)

“You truly think I was working up the courage to face you, child?” He laughed, but he didn’t advance further. “I hate to bruise your ego, my dear, but I have other pursuits in life.”

“Yeah fucking right,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’ve hunted me for years. And now that you’ve found me again, you just. Won’t. Leave. Me. Alone.” I bit off every word, spitting them out, my whole body trembling with the effort not to smash him down. My rage scared me a little, scared mind-Tess, too, who had gone silent.

The only one not scared was Samir. He was laughing again, his head thrown back, his eyes finally off me.

I took my chance. The floor in here was concrete under the thin, industrial carpet. I slammed my magic down into it, sending a wide crack at Samir. His shield might turn my magic, but I wanted to see how he felt about being sunk into concrete that turned instantly to quicksand beneath his feet.

Samir sprang back and a wave of magic radiated off him, smashing into my own shield and sliding me backward as though I’d been physically shoved. My tailbone jammed into the counter behind me and I heard glass crack. I hoped it was glass, anyway, and not my bones. Pain barely registered, hot but distant, like standing just within the circle of warmth from a bonfire.

The walls groaned, but the building stood. I’d sunk a lot of warding magic into it. A crack and a missing couple feet of flooring wouldn’t bring it down.

I’d have to do better. I circled to my right, away from the counter. Wolf circled with me, her lips in a silent snarl.

“I’ve known where you were for four years, Jade,” Samir said.

“Bullshit,” I said, but his words were like another blow and I stopped moving, watching him, ready for another spell if one came. “If that’s true, why not come after me four years ago?”

“Why rush? You would have run again. Chasing you around was interesting for a few years, but then it became routine. And I do hate routine. Ask Tess.” His smile was back, but less confident than before. “Ah yes, you can’t. Poor Tess.”

In my mind, the ghost of Tess, her soul, or whatever the hell she was now, agreed with him. Boredom was Samir’s true enemy. She assured me that she had known nothing about him being aware the whole time of where I was. Small comfort. I hoped he was lying. Alek could have told me, but Alek was away. Which was good. My love would have just gotten himself killed in minutes trying to defend me.

“Here you stayed, surrounded by your childish games. Quiet and boring as a mouse, scratching away at life. Sad, broken, terrified of shadows. Already broken toys hold no interest for me.”

I studied his face, an odd grief tempering my rage. I had loved him, once. But it was so clear now, more clear than ever, pushed home by years and by my new experience of actual love, that what I had felt for Samir had been as immature and naïve as I once was. And the Samir I had loved so blindly had never been real.

I clung to the rage, shoving away all other feelings. This was not epiphany time. This was supposed to be ass-kicking time.

Him monologueing was good though. It always killed villains in movies. I tried to keep him talking.

“Why not just fuck off and stay away then?”

“You got interesting. My little mage. Taking her first heart. Thrilling, isn’t it? Gaining power, soaking in the knowledge of another, absorbing their spark into your own growing light until you are the sun and moon and stars.”

“Have you spent the last few decades smoking crack? I wish you’d said shit like that when I first met you. I probably would have smothered you in your sleep just to shut you up.” I circled more to the right. About seven more steps and I would reach the door.

Not that I should take the fight outside, but I had a dim thought of leading him away from town. This was Wylde; there were woods within a quick run from anywhere, including my store. Out in the open, away from humans and buildings, we could get our wizard dueling on.

“Would anything convince you I am not a monster?” His smile faded, his expression turning to stone.

“Hmm. Sending assassins after me. Fucking up my birth family and getting my father killed. Oh yeah, that part where you fucking burned everyone I ever loved to death. So. That’s a big ass cup of nope.” I willed Wolf to make for the door, trying to telepathically send her the plan. Maybe she could help cover my retreat. She’d hurt him before. It was worth a shot.

“Then there is no use pretending. You know what I want.”

“Why did you send the postcard? If you thought I’d run,” I added as he raised an eyebrow.

“To see if you would. And when you didn’t, I knew that you had grown roots again. I knew that you had something to lose again.”

His words worked like a
Petrification
spell.

“So you have been fucking with us.” It wasn’t a question. All the pieces I’d put together too slowly were locking into place. “Why not just kill me?”

Samir shook his head and started to answer, but the chime of my door interrupted him. In my peripheral vision, I saw Steve’s head appear, followed by his wide shoulders wrapped up in a green parka. Snow was melting on his chubby, cheerful cheeks. He was smiling as he stomped his feet on the doormat and raised one hand in greeting as he tugged off his ugly Christmas scarf with his other.

“Steve,” I screamed at him, “get out!”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened as though to ask a question. The words were cut off by a gossamer thread as it flew through the air from Samir and wrapped around Steve’s exposed throat. Blood sprayed in fine mist and Steve collapsed to his knees, his hands going to his neck.

I slammed a wave of power at Samir, shoving him back, and sprang for Steve. My fingers felt stiff and numb as I tried to get to the magic garrote cutting its way into Steve’s neck. The thread felt like fishing line, slippery with blood and gore. Steve convulsed and choked, blood gushing out of his mouth and air starting to hiss from his cut throat.

Blood, blood everywhere.

“Tess,” I cried, not caring that I was talking aloud. I reached for mind-Tess, begging her to help me fix this. She was the caged bird again in my head, her ghost screaming at me to stop trying to save a dead man and pay attention to the enemy coming at me.

I reached for her memories, but there was no time to sift, to learn. No time.

Time. I could do things with time. Things I was learning from Tess.

NO
. Mind-Tess still screaming.

I twisted my magic from defensive shielding and poured my will into it, the desire formed by my need, the thought of what I wanted not even registering at a wholly conscious level.

I wanted Steve to be not dying. I wanted time to save him.

Magic roared in my ears, downing out the voice in my head, the sound of Steve choking to death on his own blood only inches from my face. I wrapped a bloody hand around my talisman and threw my power into action.

Time. I needed more time.

The world faded in a purple spiral, my whole body seizing as magic pooled around me, drowning me. I felt like I’d jumped in a wormhole, all sensation fading as I plummeted into a whirlpool of noise and sensation. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I still had eyes. There was noise like rushing water or heavy wind or the beating of a million angry wings.

And then it stopped and the world was quiet. I opened my eyes, staggering as my legs threatened to drop me onto my ass.

I was in my store. No Steve. No blood on my hands. Wolf leaned into me, holding me up as I stumbled forward, toward the door. Samir was talking, saying something about not being ready. I realized I’d let go of my power. I wasn’t even shielding. My evil ex was too busy with the sound of his voice to notice yet.

He stopped talking and narrowed his eyes. I reached for my power again and was answered with only a thin sputtering trickle, like when the water has been shut off but you still get what’s left in the pipes.

What the fuck had I done? Where was Steve? The shop walls were pushing in on me, my head pounding as though I’d slammed it into the wall a few dozen times.

Samir shook his head and started to say something else, but the chime of my door interrupted him. In my peripheral vision, I saw Steve’s head appear, followed by his wide shoulders wrapped up in a green parka. Snow was melting on his chubby, cheerful cheeks. He was smiling as he stamped his feet on the doormat and raised one hand in greeting as he tugged off his ugly Christmas scarf with his other.

Déjà-fucking-vu.

“Steve,” I screamed at him, “get out!”

I knew that Samir would throw the killing magic. I watched it almost in slow motion as it swished through the air, a silvery thread of death.

Springing straight into its path, I felt an odd cold pain in my neck as the thread hit me, and then passed right through as though made of nothing more than imagination and smoke.

I tried to cast a spell, to throw up a shield, anything, but magic failed me, flowing out of my veins like sand in a sieve. I grabbed for Steve as he fell, as blood misted from his throat.

Once it hit him, the thread became tangible. I jammed my fingers into it and tried to pull it away from his throat. Cold fire burned into my joints, my skin recoiling from the magic.

“No,” I said, over and over. “No, don’t you die on me again. No. Steve.”

Steve tried to say something, but it came out as an aspirated gush of blood. His eyes bulged.

Then he died in my arms, my fingers numb and clinging to the magic that killed him, buried in his throat.

Only hatred kept me conscious. My eyes were wet with unshed tears, my vision fogging as Samir walked toward me. Wolf snarled and tried to spring at him, but hit his shield in a spray of black smoke and disappeared, materializing again three feet beyond him, still snarling.

“Why?” I asked, my voice raw and unable to rise above a stage whisper. My throat felt as though it had collapsed on itself and my hand slipped from the garrote as trembling took over. My body refused to obey me and I crumpled, half-sitting on Steve’s still chest. Broken.

“Give me Clyde’s heart,” Samir said.

“Why did you do this? He’s just a guy.”

“Clyde’s heart, where is it? Perhaps I will spare the next guy, hmm?” Samir’s cold smile was back.

I wanted to kick his teeth in, but I wasn’t sure I even had feet. I couldn’t feel them anyway.

“I don’t have it,” I started to say, but decided not to. He wouldn’t believe me. “Just end me,” I whispered instead. I couldn’t defend myself. Whatever I had done, turning back time like that, it had wiped the floor with me.

I’d defeated myself.

“Kill you? Here? Like this? Oh, Jade. You do not understand, do you? This ws just a warning. Give me the heart, and spare us both this drama.” He smiled down at me with a shake of his head.

“Why won’t you?” I screamed. My voice gave out mid cry. “Please,” I added, the word forming on my lips but no sound carrying it out into the room.

“Because, my dear,” Samir said. “I’m not bored yet.”

He left my shop, his shape a shadow as he disappeared into the swirling snow.

I swallowed tears and nausea, adrenaline draining away as quickly as my magic had. I forced myself to look down at Steve.

“I’m so sorry,” I mouthed to him.

He didn’t answer. He’d never answer.

Working slowly, my stiff hands and the vast amount of blood causing me to lose my grip constantly, I tugged the garrote from his neck. It was inert now, appearing very much like fishing line. Thin and clear. Like my grief, like the tears running down my cheeks and spilling onto my collarbones.

That’s how the deputy from the sherriff’s office found me. Kneeling over Steve’s corpse, garrote in my bloody hands.

They told me I had the right to remain silent, but it didn’t matter. I had no voice and nothing at all to say.

Snow fell in whirling curtains, the chains on the tires rattling like ghosts as the deputies drove me down the road to the county station. I felt the air on my skin as the bigger deputy, a bearded man whose name I wouldn’t have been able to remember on a good day, pulled me out of the back, but my legs wouldn’t hold me up. All I saw was Steve’s dead face and his eyes clouding over.

I threw up on the stairs and there was nothing in my stomach but yellow bile. They hauled me into the station, still dry heaving. Heat hit me as we stumbled through the double doors.

Maybe Tess was right. Maybe there was a hell and these were the gates. I choked on more bile and tried to speak, but my throat was still ruined, my jaw like nails and broken glass. I needed my phone call. I had to warn Harper. I had to warn them all. I tried to make my eyes focus, to make Steve’s face stop swimming in front of me.
Wolf
.
Tell Harper that Timmy fell down the well again
. I mentally reached for her but even thinking hurt. I couldn’t see her anywhere. I couldn’t call out.

No voice. No guardian. I was alone here. Helpless. Just heat now, and the scuffed hardwood floor rising to meet my face like a punch I totally deserved.