Page 113 of A Sin So Pure

I may not be a sharpshooter and my touch may not kill—I cannot walk between the shadows, nor mold them into weapons—but I have something else others don’t.

Trust me.

I hope Josie can hear me as I push the words her way.

“Did you hear me? Let’s go,” the Seelie barks behind me.

He tries to back us up, but I squirm enough to get one arm free from his grasp. I slap my palm against the hand gripping the gun at my temple, calling my magic to my fingertips, pushing one word, one feeling into the Seelie—compliance.

“Let go,” I command.

His body jerks, fighting the magic for all but a second before his arms drop to his sides. The gun falls from his grip, clattering on the ground.

I launch myself forward, my hands and knees scraping against the rough pavement. Just as quick, the gun is back in Josie’s hand and she’s releasing a round into the Seelie’s gut.

He jolts with each bullet’s impact, knees buckling and upper body twisting to face up as he hits the ground.

Surprisingly, he groans, not completely dead.

Josie and I watch as the wounds on his chest begin to heal. One bullet at a time, they pop out of their bloodied wounds, revealing freshly healed scars.

But then the adrenaline in me crashes, and I fall face-first onto the cobblestone.

I hear Josie curse as she pulls me up, setting me against the side of a building. My vision blurs in and out, and I groan when her hands come to my side, pressing against my wound.

“Shit.” Josie repeats the curse over and over, and I let out a lackluster snort. “You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you curse so many times in a row.”

She lets out a huff of terrified laughter. It’s no time to laugh, but I guess that’s just how we’re both dealing with this.

Fuck. Am I going to die?

My side has gone slick and warm, and I tilt my head to the sky to avoid seeing all the red I know is pooling underneath me.

The sky is clear and blue.

How peaceful.

“Now’s a good time to tell me I told you so,” I groan as Josie rips part of her blouse and ties it around my middle.

“Not the time, Mo,” Josie says. “Not the time.”

“Isn’t it though?” I squeak as Josie secures a too-tight knot over my wound.

“Nope,” she says, suddenly sounding resolute. “You’re going to be fine.”

Footsteps sound at my left, rounding the corner of the alley.

“Get her back to Anwynn.” Josie’s voice has never sounded so powerful, so commanding. A shiver runs through me, whether from her voice or how cold it’s gotten. “We have an emergency tonic in the drawer of my office. Get her there and make her drink it.”

I crack an eye to see Wes standing, mouth agape at Josie’s wrath.

“Now!” she yells, which gets him to move.

“Yes, Boss,” he says, running to my side and lifting me into his arms.

As I’m whisked away into shadow—the last thing I see is Josie standing above our attacker, emptying another round into his stomach.

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