Page 40 of Magic and Matrimony

“What are you going to do, Piper? Are you going to cry over her? Hope your tears are magical and can heal her.” He draws out every word, loving the way my fear grows with each second.

My hands tremble as I shine my flashlight on Danielle. There’s blood around her scalp.

“Did you hit her?”

“I got my object,” Tucker says matter of factly, and my stomach twists.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a violent challenge.”

“Says who?” Tucker flips his rock up in the air, catching it like it’s an insignificant trinket and he didn’t just bash someone over the head to get it.

I drop to my knees beside Danielle. There’s a lot of blood, and I don’t exactly have towels to stop the bleeding. There’s a pack of tissues in my pocket and I wonder if it’s even worth trying to stop the bleeding. Or if I’ll do more harm. I need to call for help. Needing to do something, I pull out the wad tissues and pressthem to Danielle’s head. She moans, and it’s a relief. At least he didn’t kill her.

I pull up Ambrose’s number and press call. Tucker’s foot connects with my fingers, kicking my phone and shattering something in my hand. I cry out, folding my body and clutching my hand to my chest.

My phone lands a good fifteen feet away, the flashlight side up. A beam of light pierces through the darkness. Tucker squats down across from me with a gleeful look on his face.

“You really should know better. How many times have I had to put you in your place, and you’ve still never learned? You really are stupid. First, you become an inheritance-stealing burden I have to care for, then you think you can get around our little family hex by marrying a Roth.”

For years, Tucker claimed I tried to steal his inheritance, simply by being born. It’s as misguided as the rest of his messed-up beliefs.

Tears stream down my face from the pain in my hand. My magic isn’t combative in nature. I make potions and I’m good at putting together clues. Researching through dusty old tomes for the history of magic and composing spells to get shit done. I can’t make the wind throw him away from me, and I can’t use water magic to freeze him in place. Tucker has brute force. He also has fire magic, and he’s burned me more than once. He’s so much bigger than me, but I won’t go down without a fight.

“I will never let you win.”

Tucker raises his hand, ready to reach out and grab me. I know this move. He will burn my skin with his fire magic. He knows how to do it underneath the surface so it’s agony, but it doesn’t leave a mark.

I tip my head back and scream bloody murder.

A shape barrels into Tucker, and they go tumbling away from Danielle’s body. Grunts and the sound of flesh pummeling fleshechoes around me. My phone is too far away for me to grab, and it’s too dark for me to see what’s happening. Still, I know, down to the marrow of my being, that it’s Ambrose.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps has my head spinning. They’re coming from multiple directions. I keep my focus on Danielle though, afraid any sudden movements on my part will have me throwing up. My hand is throbbing. A pulse of pain hitting each time my blood pumps through my veins.

“Fucking Crone,” Roman swears as he swings his light over Ambrose and Tucker, and then finds me and Danielle on the ground.

Ambrose is on top of Tucker, beating the absolute shit out of him. Roman pulls him off my uncle, but Ambrose fights him.

“Calm the fuck down. He’s unconscious,” Roman shouts, and Ambrose goes from flailing beast to calm in an instant. He wipes at some blood trickling from his nose and faces me. Sweet, bubbly Ambrose is gone. There’s a feral glint in his eyes that catches in the light.

He stalks toward me and helps me up. Maybe I should be afraid–the ferocity in his eyes is terrifying–but I’m not. He accidentally jostles my arm, and I hiss.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” Ambrose asks gently, his hand brushing down my cheek and tipping my chin up. His knuckles are bloody.

“I think my fingers are broken.”

Ambrose takes a step back toward Tucker, but Roman steps in front of him. “Josephine can heal her. Let’s get both of them back to the clearing.” He nods down at Danielle.

“Did you guys find your item?” Sure, it might not be the most important thing right now, but actually, it is. It’s clearer than ever that we need good people to run the council, not pieces of trash like Tucker.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ambrose says, as he picks up my phone and guides me to the clearing. Roman lifts Danielle into his arms and quickly joins us.

“It does. It really matters. If you don’t stay in these trials and someone like Tucker ends up back on the council, nothing will change. You have to find your object,” I plead, my hand cradled to my chest. I’m close to tears, from pain and desperation.

“We will. Let’s get you to the clearing, and then Roman and I will head back in.” Ambrose smooths his hand down my back, his tone soothing. As if he wasn’t just a rage-fuel mess.

“There’s twenty minutes left.” I want him to feel the press of urgency.

“I know, Pipes. We’ll find them.”

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