Page 101 of Of Flame and Fury

“Stop it,” Gemini mutters under his breath.

“I will. I just need a little bit,” I add, my tone oddly erotic. I push past the sting the merging of powers causes. My magic and the ancientweremagic taking residence within my right arm fight me, warning me we may be in over our heads.

“Since when has that stopped us?” I ask playfully.

“Taran,” Gemini growls. “Whatthe hell are you doing?”

My silky voice vanishes, turning dark. “Fighting fire with fire.”

A wave of flames ripples from my feet and jets out, pushing away the bulls and making them think twice about charging. Johnny startles, jumping back when the crackling flames stop short of his feet, and my magic becomes the weapon I need.

The blue and white firestorm of flames spin and rise, taking shape and growing in rapid bursts of fire. The long, strong legs are visible first, followed by a massive and imposing back that sprouts an elegant tail.

The tail bats about when then neck punches through, and the head grows. My creation shakes its head so the long, pretty mane flutters. The horn, startling and scary, that pokes through her forehead is my favorite part.

That’s right. When surrounded by bull,be a fucking unicorn.

Johnny’s Nytes never really possessed minds of their own. All they knew was their mission: to kill and protect their creator. My baby is no exception. She gallops forward, drops her head, and impales the fiery red bull, lifting him high in the air and detonating him with fire of her own.

She kicks back when the other bull charges, striking the bull in the head and indenting his skull. I help her with a fireball. It blasts the bull’s hindquarters and takes out his legs.

My unicorn rears, bringing down her front hooves and beating on the bull.

Be it the power it took to create her or the amount I’ve expended all through the night, my flames sizzle out in a rush, and I’m immediately struck by the intensity of the foreign fire. Gemini clutches me, lifting me and hurtling us through the crumbling stable.

We land on the cool grass, mere yards away. I can’t stop coughing, clutching my chest, as if it will help ease my screaming lungs. Through the red and orange flames devouring the building, I see her. All blue and white and beautiful flames, my unicorn fights, beating the bull remaining to death. She whinnies, her legs continuing to fight long after the Nyte stops moving.

Gemini is in bad shape, curling inward and pressing his hand against his chest. I want to hold him and tell him we won, and that it’s over, that he’ll heal. Yet, as I watch the gangly shadow of a man I’ve grown to hate stumble toward the woods, I know I’m wrong, and there’s one more kill to make.

My steps falter, and I trip over my feet more than once. I’m not in better shape than Johnny, only good enough to mildly keep up. It takes longer to close the distance between us than it feels it should. I think he’s dying. It seems that way when the first traces of light peek through the treetops.

Johnny clears the wooded path and heads up the incline. I press my hands against my knees to keep up and not fall over. He’s almost to the top of the small hill when he stops and bounds back.

I’m not certain why until Bren’s and Koda’s massive wolf heads poke out at the top, snarling as they stalk forward.

They’re healing. They’re better. But they’re still not as whole as they should be.

Johnny stumbles down the hill and heads right, shaking when Misha, Uri, and their families meet him head-on. A skeletal figure with fangs strolls with them. Her muscles, skin, and hair have not fully materialized, but I recognize Ileana right away. No one in her condition should stroll anywhere.

Johnny doesn’t give up or beg for mercy. He holds onto his side as he tries to return to the woods. His features reveal his surprise as he sees me, still alive. The dead expression he pegs me with matches those who watched their friends and family die. I don’t feel sorry for him, only those he’s made suffer. I suppose he knows that.

He swallows hard when I stop in front of him. Gemini walks to my side. His twin takes point next to Genevieve and the remaining head witches accompanying Destiny and Tye.

All these powerful beings, and I’m the one Johnny fixates on. “You would have done the same, Taran,” he says. “You—”

I don’t bother with what he has to say. He’s said and done enough. I release my lightning in one precise swoop. Johnny’s body collapses, his head rolling to a stop in front of Ileana. She lifts the head, biting down on the inside of Johnny’s neck like a slice of watermelon.

Johnny Fate dies quietly, like the sickly addict he turned into instead of the revered powerhouse he once was.

There’s no eruption of magic or deafening blast of sound. The world doesn’t split in two. The apocalypse never arrives. And Ileana doesn’t become anything scarier than she already is.

What does happen is that the night ends, and the sun rises.

Fate is dead, and Destiny takes his place. She hovers over Johnny, her arms and that of her octopus gown gathering around him and engulfing him. The dress limbs bubble and slurp as Destiny consumes Fate. I suppose she needs to. Still, it’s hard to stomach.

I turn away, relieved as the wounds and injuries inflicting Gemini and the others vanish at a faster rate. Whatever spell suppressed their healing abilities and infected the witches’ powers died with Johnny.

It’s time to celebrate, but it’s hard to celebrate living when far too many have died.

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