Page 92 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

“You know of him?” my father asked.

“I… yeah. You could say that.”

“When they found us, she realized we’d taken out our own magic. She was furious. She started throwing fire magic around, and, well.” His eyes went distant for a moment.

“She was already so strong,” my mother said. Her voice had the same flat quality I’d heard when I asked people about the atrocities they’d witnessed. “Even together, we wouldn’t have been able to stop her. Two of the most powerful witches in the world, and it wouldn’t have been enough. I’m so sorry, sweet pea, but it has to be you.”

Fear rose in my gut. “Me?”

“The magic of two of the most powerful witches wasn’t enough,” my father said. “The power of three, though…”

“Now that you’ve claimed the ascendancy array, all of our magic is yours,” my mom said with a watery smile. “You’re so much more powerful than you know, Evie. I know you can stop her.”

They were so faded, I could barely see them, and the glow of the room in the vision was getting dimmer.

“I’m not ready,” I said. “I don’t know how to stop her. I don’t know what I’m doing. I can barely even remember to do laundry most of the time!” I felt small, childish, and wholly out of my depth.

“You get the laundry thing from your dad,” my mother said, and my dad nodded ruefully. “Nobody knows what they’re doing, sweet pea, and nobody can do it alone. It’s all about finding the right people who can help you figure it out.” At her side, my father gave her an adoring look.

“She’s right,” he said. “Teamwork. She did the laundry, I did the dishes. You’re the one with the strength to stop this whole thing, but don’t think for one second that you’re the only person in this fight.”

“You need to find D—” my mother started to say, but suddenly, the vision lurched away, making me feel like the ground had been torn out from beneath my feet.

Abruptly, I was back in the real cellar, shoved forward over the workbench, with rough wood digging into my cheek. I tried to twist out of the grip that was keeping me pinned down, but it just got stronger, shoving me against the table until I could hear my ribs creaking.

I twisted my head back over my shoulder as far as it could go, trying to see who had gotten the drop on me.

I saw a familiar face, rawboned and hatchet sharp, with cold, dark eyes, and a severe black widow’s peak. The man sneered down at me with cold pleasure. The last time I’d seen him, he’d directed that look at his son.

“You should have stayed out of this, witch,” Roland De Montclair said. “But you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” He had my wrists pinned with one hand, and with the other he pulled out a pair of silvery cuffs.

I gritted my teeth, let all of my weight fall forward onto the desk, and kicked backward with both feet as hard as I could. There was a crack, and I felt the impact through my whole body as my boots connected with his knees. He let out a grunt of surprise, and the distraction was just enough for me to twist free.

My new power thundered through me, brutal and unrestrained. For all my life, my magic had been something I could access when I needed it, like lowering a bucket into a well. Now, it was like a massive, thundering river, and the dam holding it back had just burst. I bared my teeth in a manic grin and threw a bolt of raw magic at the vampire. It crashed into him, and he flew backward and slammed against the wall. The surge of energy was heady.

The sound that Roland let out was the snarl of an injured animal. With vampiric speed, he yanked a small coppery knife from the pretentious-ass watch chain he was wearing and threw it at me. It hit my chest with a sickening crack, burying itself squarely in the middle of my breastbone. If there was pain, I didn’t feel it. I was too caught up in the rush of power to feel anything but a faint cold tingle as I yanked the blade out and tossed it to the floor.

I twisted vines of magic out of the air to bind Roland in place, but they came out all wrong. They were more like tree trunks than vines, each one at least a foot across, and when they surged forward, they did it with so much strength that they crunched into the wall, shattering the concrete, and sending books toppling off the shelves.

The flood inside me wasn’t stopping. It was only getting more and more powerful. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. I was fucking furious.

“Look what you made me do,” I snarled. The vines flailed wildly, and Roland darted between them, dashing toward me so quickly that I couldn’t track his movement. He slammed the flat of his palm into the spot the knife had struck, and, oh, there was the pain.

I stumbled back against one of the work benches, tools and glassware rattling and smashing. I wasn’t going to let this man, this pathetic, petty vampire beat me. I fumbled blindly behind me and threw the first thing my hand landed on: a bundle of scrap metal. As it left my grip, it parted and blossomed into dozens of needle-sharp darts, each one of them flying straight toward Roland.

Three bulky vampires charged into the room, each one bigger and dumber looking than the last. One threw himself in front of Roland, and the spikes buried themselves in his broad back.

“Took you idiots long enough,” Roland spat as the vampire in front of him gurgled out a weak apology, blood dripping from the dozens of wounds. He threw the injured vampire to the side, where he flopped limply over one of the thick vines of magic. The tendril seemed to react to his weight, curling in on itself and squeezing hard. There was a horrific wet crunch, and he slumped. When the vine uncurled, the vampire’s midsection had been reduced to a red paste, still stuck through with shards of metal.

One of the newcomers stared down at his fallen coworker in horror. I shook out my arms and let the magic build.

Let them try stop me.

32

GABRIEL

It took us what felt like a short, agonizing eternity to reach the house. I had never considered myself someone prone to restlessness, but now I felt like I was about to crawl out of my own skin with the need to move. I drummed my fingers against my knee, staring unseeing at the road. Marcus looked if not calm, then at least calmer than I felt, but when I glanced over I could see that he was clenching his hands around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

---