Jennifer Estep - Spider's Bite

Time to go back to it.

I had enough juice left in me for one final burst of magic. Maybe two. So far, I’d been on the defensive, trying to block Alexis’s magic. I’d never liked being on the defensive. I needed to end this. Now.

So I threw my right hand out to the side, as far away as I could from her body and the Air magic howling around her like an invisible wolf. Alexis thought I was weakening that much more. She paused a moment to allow herself a triumphant chuckle.

That luxury cost the bitch her life.

With my outstretched hand, I reached for my other magic — my Ice magic. That element had always been far weaker than my Stone magic. All I could really do with it was make Ice crystals and cubes and other small shapes.

But it was enough.

The spider rune scar on my hand iced over. My fingers closed around the edge of the jagged icicle I’d created in my palm. Cold comfort. I snapped up my wrist and slammed the crude weapon into Alexis James’s heart.

The milky white flames on her fingertips snuffed out, like a candle doused by a stiff wind. The icicle broke off in her chest, so I threw my hand out to the side and made another one. This time, the cold weapon went into her neck. I turned my head to the side. Her blood spattered onto my left cheek, stinging it like hot wax. The pressure made some of the blisters on my face burst. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain.

Alexis James’s eyes widened, and she clawed at the cold cylinder in her neck. But I didn’t wait for her to pull it out. I formed another icicle and cut her throat with it.

She gurgled and put both hands over her windpipe.

Too little, too late.

I’d severed her jugular. Alexis might have been able to recover from it, if she’d known how to use her Air magic to heal instead of kill. But she didn’t. And a cut artery was one thing all her power, all her precious Air magic, couldn’t help her with. Alexis had been right. My magic hadn’t been stronger than hers. I’d just used it better.

Alexis pitched forward, and her blood soaked into my clothes, hair, skin. The last dregs of her magic erupted from her body, pummeling me a final time. The silverstone vest pressed down on my chest like a scalding rock. The metal had absorbed all the magic it could and had liquefied. It sloshed around like water and leaked out of the shell of the vest. I just lay there under Alexis, focusing on my own magic, using enough of the Stone power to shield myself from the screaming wind and superheated metal.

After about a minute, Alexis’s blood slowed to a trickle, and the wind whistled away. It always amazed me how quickly life, warmth, could turn dead and cold. I gathered up enough strength to roll the elemental off me and take off my melted vest. I threw the ruined material to one side. More silverstone leaked out of the fabric and pooled on the ground like a pale river.

I turned my attention to Alexis James. She’d flopped onto her back, staring up at the stars that had already started to populate the darkening sky. She coughed once, and more of her blood spattered on the rock around her. The stone under her body took on a harsh mutter.

I staggered to my feet, watching her die. I leaned down just before Alexis James slipped away and stared at her. The Air elemental’s pained gaze flicked to me.

“I don’t know where you’re going,” I said. “But if you see Fletcher Lane, tell him Gin says hello.”

The milky white magic in the Air elemental’s gaze dimmed, dulled, and leaked out of her eyes. But I didn’t move until I was sure Alexis James was dead. I idly wondered if I should get her gun and put three in her head just to be sure—

Click.

I was so focused on Alexis that I didn’t hear the gun until it was too late. Something that was happening a lot lately. I turned.

Wayne Stephenson stood behind me, his weapon level with my chest. The giant was less than twenty feet away. He wouldn’t miss. Not at this distance. I was too exhausted to reach for my Stone magic again, to try and harden my skin with it, and my silverstone vest lay in a crumpled, melted heap at my feet.

At least I’d killed Alexis James first. Finn and Roslyn would be safe now, assuming Stephenson hadn’t already shot them. The pudgy police captain didn’t look so good. His breath came out in ragged gasps, and sweat rolled down his forehead like he was standing in the shower.

The giant looked at me, then at Alexis’s still body. He pulled a white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and mopped some of the nervous moisture off his beefy face.

“I can’t believe you killed her. You did me a favor, you know?” he said. “I wish I’d never gotten involved with that psychotic bitch. But she had pictures of me with a girl. I couldn’t say no to her, to any of it.”

More confirmation Alexis had been blackmailing Stephenson and further affirming my opinion that blackmail was the lowest form of arm-twisting.

“And then she promised me more. More money, more girls, anything I wanted. And all I had to do was find you, kill you …”

He was babbling, but I didn’t say anything. The longer he kept talking was the longer I kept breathing. My eyes flicked to the ground. One of my knives lay about two feet off to my right. I might be able to lunge for it and throw it at Stephenson before he shot me. I tensed. Only chance I had.

But Stephenson wasn’t completely gone. He saw I wasn’t paying attention to his ramblings. His eyes sharpened.

“But this will fix it,” he said. “This will fix everything. I’ll say you killed Alexis, and I killed you. It’ll work. I can make it work.”

Stephenson raised his gun—

I dived forward, going for my knife and trying to get out of the path of the bullet—

A shot rang out, then five more in rapid succession—

My head snapped up. Stephenson towered over me. He teetered to one side, then toppled to the ground like a mighty oak that had been felled by a lightning strike. I saw three small, neat wounds in back of the police captain’s skull. The same place Brutus had wanted to shoot me a few days ago. Three more holes leaked blood in the giant’s back: two in his kidneys, one in his heart. I raised my eyes to the man who’d been standing behind the giant. The one who still had his gun raised.

Donovan Caine.

He walked over to Stephenson’s body and stared down at his dead captain. His hazel eyes darkened, his face drooped, and his whole body just sagged. Once again, the detective reminded me of Atlas, bearing so much on his lean shoulders.

I sat up, too tired and bloody to do anything else. I’d carried my share of the load tonight too.

Donovan’s hazel eyes flicked to me, then to Alexis James’s body. He moved toward me, gun still clenched in his hand. I reached down and palmed my knife. I wasn’t going to let the detective kill me. Not because of Cliff Ingles. Not because of anything.

Survival no matter what. The very first lesson Fletcher had taught me. One I’d learned even before I’d met the old man.

Even if killing Donovan Caine would extinguish whatever light might still be left inside me.

Caine stopped about three feet away from me. “You killed her. You killed Alexis.”

I didn’t say anything.

“How did you do it?” he asked. “I saw her magic. She was lighting up the whole quarry with it. And the wind… you could hear the wind screaming. How did you avoid it?”

“I got lucky.” My voice was weak and raspy.

“Alexis is dead. Stephenson’s dead. Which means our truce is officially over.”

Donovan Caine raised his gun, pointing it at my forehead. My hand tightened around the hilt of the knife.

“You killed my partner.”