Page 66 of Forgotten Monsters
Oz slides to the side to allow us passage. “I was never in your way, Julia. I only did what my superiors ordered me to do.”
“That’s how you intend to get out of it, isn’t it?”
“What if I told you everything I did…the angel fruit theft, the angel dust, killing Elsbeth and framing a Fae prince for it…was all sanctioned by the Senate?”
“I’d say you’re bluffing.”
He raises his palms to the sky with a disgustingly meek smile. “Maybe I won’t get away scot-free, but hey, you probably won’t either. Be careful, Julia. Politicians—crooked or not—aren’t fond of flashy, powerful witches who make up their own rules.”
I want to punch his smug face.
The quill still wiggles happily against the parchment, recording our conversation.
Cole lowers his voice. “Talking of crooked politicians, Darkwood is at the bottom of the crater. He’s got a hollow stuck inside him, so if you want a shot in hell at saving your boss, you should hurry.”
Oz’s face darkens, but he motions for his agents to follow him.
We walk past him and hurry to the center of the room, where stretchers, healers, and grieving guests have started organizing a space for the wounded.
Cole leans closer. “He’s right, you know. The Council will not look kindly upon your new powers. A mythical crown combined with a Fae husband…it’ll make them nervous.”
“Let’s worry about that later. It’s not like I want to overthrow the government.”
“So today was a one-time thing then?” he says with a wink.
Touché…
Lydia guides us to the back of the room where Flynn lies unconscious on a stretcher. “The healers have already assessed him. There’s nothing they can do.”
Tears mist my vision as I kneel next to him.
“He passed out a few minutes after you left.”
The creature is curled around the major blood vessels in his chest like a cancer, a rot slowly spreading from his heart to his brain. I see it plainly, and I realize… it sees me, too.
Hollows aren’t exactly rocket scientists, but it senses my arrival.
I press my lips together and square my shoulders to summon the courage to act.
As soon as I reach for the hollow buried in Flynn’s chest, he arches his back with a scream. Pain deforms his features and rattles me to my core, but the damned thing holds on, small wisps of its tail planted in the veins and arteries.
I bite back a cringe. “I’m going to need a healer here.”
Dr. Chen runs up to us. “Careful, or there won’t be anything for me to put back together.”
I hiss in pain and continue the delicate task of peeling the hollow out of Flynn without shredding him. Every move coaxes more screams and blood out of him as sweat drips down my back, but I soldier through. My new magic now allows me totouchthe hollow, slivers of power acting as lassos around its body, allowing me to control its movements. I feel like a kid playing Operation, only hearing the buzzer will kill Flynn.
Once the monster is out in the open, I tighten my fist around its neck, its smokey texture crumbling like sand between my fingers, until there’s nothing left.
I feel faint, my mouth dry and bitter.
The healers, Dr. Chen among them, push me aside and tend to what’s left of Flynn.
Lydia rests a hand on my shoulder. “There’s two more, if you’re able.”
Despite the power boost of the Aegis, fatigue spreads in my bones. Amalthea wasn’t kidding when she said killing hollows required a lot of stamina.
I follow Lydia to the next stretcher where a mortal woman, a witch I’ve seen a few times on TV, lies on her back.
