Page 114 of Amethyst Flame
And my EldWitch did have some fucking awesome spells I could cast, and one in particular…
As I turned, my left hand formed the L I used to call up my Spell List. As my tongue twitched into the first syllable, a shockwave split through St. Croix’s fireflies, sending them tumbling, and a jagged spear of blue lanced toward me.
Dane dove in front of me with apop! pop! pop!from his gun.
“No!” I swiped the air to command my butterflies to push him out of the way and lifted a shield to deflect the spear, but the blue weapon punched through, the tip arrested mid-flight a few scant inches from my chest.
Fuck it. I shoved my shield away, and with it, the giant ice pick of a spear…and spoke my incantation.
The crowd cheered wildly, held back by the now gray-faced cop and his just arrived backup, poor bastards.
And I stepped out of myself.
Or rather, what looked like myself, but made of light. A projection of Mo, standing in the street, arms lifted, palms up, as if waiting to ward off the next strike.
But that was just light. Shimmer. A glamour.
Meanwhile, real-me was a shadow. And though I carried my pain and fear with me, I also brought all my power, burning me up like the core of a sun on the inside. My butterflies already knew how to hack St. Croix’s big fireflies, so they didn’t so much as quiver when I silently sneaked away.
Dane was just getting up from the ground where I’d shoved him, so I leaned in quickly and whispered in his ear, “Shhhh! Don’t try to touch me.”
His eyes widened, but he gave a minuscule nod.
And then I went hunting.
As I moved through the firefly field, I searched for detail. The little things. The variation of color. The lines that didn’t intersect quite right. A ripple where the fallen night should be still.
In the press of people, I saw a couple holding hands, smiling, while they tried to figure out what was going on in front of them. “I have no idea, honey. Do you see the bad guy?”
A group of guys was already halfway wasted. One put his hands around his mouth to call, “Lame!”
Some woman in a tube dress, a white veil, and a sash that read “Bride” had climbed up on a short, concrete street column and was shouting, “Come save me!” at Dane. Her minions in “Bridesmaid” sashes and holding plastic margarita cups all waved to get Dane’s attention, too—one flashed him—as the “Maid of Honor” tried to pull the bride off the column.
But Dane ignored them to lean down to the Kidnapper’s window to yell something to Jacob.
I wouldn’t make the mistake of watching them too long again and returned to my search.
The visual noise was too difficult to separate, but when I came to the splash of the giant fountain—a water-based act with pirates totally forgotten by the crowd—the spray attracted my interest. It wasn’t flying quite right—
The flash of a second killing spear sparkled through the mist. It dove toward Glamour Mo.
Gotcha.
I summoned the torrent burning within me to form the mother of fireballs…and thrust it toward the uncanny glitter of the water.
A furious, violet frenzy hurtled through the air…
…and Hive Will appeared in an explosion of indigo shimmer. The blast hit him square in the chest, his t-shirt incinerating, leaving his skin to bubble and blacken at his sternum.
With a whimper, he dropped backward, a dead fall into the artificial lake of water.
My gaze went to Dane, who seemed to also be searching for me. His chest was heaving, but the red stripe hadn’t bled much. Cauterized? It probably still hurt as bad as the one across my shoulders.
With a [release] swipe of my hands, I dissipated the spell. Glamour Mo, struck through with the lightning spear, smoked out of existence while I flickered out of shadow and into view.
The spectators cheered and hooted over thethomp-thomp-thompand high whine of the EDM. Well, the “Bride” was throwing up and the “Maid of Honor” was holding her hair. But everyone else seemed to like the show.
“Kiss her!” someone shouted.
