Page 77 of Night of Death and Flowers

My vision darkens as the ropes of night wrap around Cordelia, dragging her closer. I ready my fingers, when Arabella’s footsteps sound behind me.

Thorn takes flight, his wings batting the surrounding air, then lands on a fallen dresser to the left of the entrance.

My heart hammers as I turn to make sure Ari’s okay, and I’m forced through the front door and into the foyer of the abandoned house by Cordelia. I lunge at her before she can speak, reaching for the ends of her dark hair and forcing her body to crouch over.

My magic pulses through my fingers as the locks crumble to ash, but my powers do not reach her skin. She jumps back as I twist my body, unsheathing the dagger, then launching the blade toward her abdomen.

She’s nimble, fast, and evades my attempt to get closer.

I almost drop the blade when I watch her eyes darken into a deep crimson. Magic leaks from her sockets in blood, dancing into the air in tendrils of smoke. I gasp when the magic reaches my forehead, seeping into my skin.

“Cali!” Ari’s panicked tone reaches me through a swarm of nightmares, building into a crescendo.

Drake’s heavy grunts sound outside. My eyes clamp shut, but a blinding light pierces my lids as I assume Drake has conjured an illusion to counteract Briar’s shadows.

“Stop,” I shout as my deepest fears are unearthed, pulled mercilessly from a buried part of myself. Visions of Arabella falling to a pile of ash screech into every thought—my sister, dead, at my hand.

The decay magic guides Cordelia’s power, the darkness enveloping my soul, craving more power. Bloodlust singes each thought, as if it was a part of who I am—a destroyer of everything good.

It starts with a heaviness settling in my head, pounding in my temples. Isolda’s mental resistance magic pulls at Cordelia’s, like an elastic band that may snap at any moment.

Ari’s footsteps pound past me as my eyes fling open, the visions fizzing into nothing.

Cordelia’s lips part, her crimson eyes bulging. Her arms drop to her sides, a slight shake to her head as she stares at me. “How…”

I have never been so grateful for Volan’s power.

A shadow is cast over the moonlight, as Ari forces her way past Cordelia.

I stumble backwards, falling back against the cold bricks with a thud, as a massive root bursts through the doorway and window. I barely cover my eyes as glass shatters around the small entranceway. A hiss escapes my lips as tiny shards shred my bare arms and chest.

Cordelia shakes her head as Ari steps into the room. “We were told you’re nothing but a healer.”

“I was,” she states, then raises her trembling fingers, her gaze locking onto the vines uncurling from the large, brown root taking up half the space. She twists her fingers, manipulating the plant like a skilled puppeteer.

Blood seeps from Cordelia’s eyes, twirling in the air toward Ari. Her fear induction magic caresses the vines, close to touching my sister’s face, when it halts.

Drake falls backward through the door as Cordelia drops to her knees, mouth parting. My eyes widen as I drop my stare to Cordelia’s abdomen, and the large, thorny vine sticking out of it.

A second vine whips toward her, wrapping around her throat, then a third burrows into her chest. Her scream rattles the room, and Thorn squawks, his wings flapping, panicked as he flies to me, then perches somewhere beside me. Hot, wet blood splatters over my face, gown, and the floorboards.

The thorns from the vines latch onto the skin before the vine is released, tearing chunks of flesh with it.

My hand claps over my mouth as I witness Ari’s darkening eyes and the tears that accompany each action. “Oh, gods,” she exclaims, the color leaving my sister’s face. “I should save her. I should—”

“Don’t,” I command, my fingers reaching Cordelia’s arm before the light flickers from her eyes. The moment my fingers graze Cordelia’s skin, her bones crumble, her body crumples into a large, sifting pile of ash.

A gust of wind catches it, sweeping her remains over the ground, the rest of her slowly falling through the cracks in the floorboards. Ari stares at her blood covered hands. “I killed her.”

“No,” I say, breathlessly. “I did.”

I run toward Drake and Briar, but halt when we’re plunged into a prison of darkness.

I fumble through the shadows, absorbing any light. Thorn’s squawk races my heart, as a second shrill, pained sound leaves his beak.

Drake yells, and Ari shrieks. My eyes widen, panic rolling through me in waves as I’m immobile, unable to know what direction to go in. A pungent tower of pollen erupts into the room, followed by a burst of choking and spluttering coughs.

Someone’s hand finds my arm, tugging me back into the wall. A mixture of fear and desire tightens around my core, as the shadowy sickness of magic twists and curls, ready to break out of me.

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