Cold Burn of Magic (26 page)

“Do you see that? Do you think you can run that far? All the way over to the opposite side of the bridge?”

He nodded, but questions clouded his eyes, wondering what difference getting across the bridge would make.

“It's our only shot,” I said. “Do you have change on you? Any quarters? Any kind of money at all?”

Devon gave me a strange look, no doubt wondering why I wanted loose change at a time like this. He shook his head.

I cursed. I'd dropped my purse with its quarters when I'd been racing toward the parking lot to save Devon from Grant. Sure, I had the chopsticks in my hair and the throwing stars and my phone in my belt, but there was only one thing on me of real value, only one thing that would work as tribute—my mom's ring.

I raised my hand. The star-shaped sapphire glinted in the moonlight, burning with a dark inner fire. I didn't want to give it up, but my mom would understand why I had to lose it. Because it was the only way Devon and I could survive this.

“Stop for a second.”

Devon did as I asked. I took one more long look at my mom's ring, then slipped it off my finger with a pang of regret. I fisted my hand around the cool bit of silver and stepped away from Devon. He reached for me, wondering what I was doing, but I held up my hand, stopping him.

“Tell me to run,” I said through gritted teeth.

He frowned, wondering what I meant, but the realization hit him a second later. He started shaking his head
no-no-no
.

“We need to run,” I said. “You said it yourself. I know we're both hurt, and I'm bleeding, but all we have to do is get to the other side of the bridge, and we'll be fine. You'll see—”

“There they are!” Grant shouted behind us.

Devon and I whipped around. Grant and the guards were four blocks away and closing fast. All of them were carrying swords, including Grant. Given the murderous glare on his face, it looked like he was just going to kill us now, instead of trying to tear our Talents out of us. Either way, if they caught us, we were dead.

“Do it,” I said. “Tell me to run. Now. Before it's too late.”

Devon sighed, but he cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to mine.
“Run!”
he yelled in the loudest voice he could muster.

For a moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if his voice had been strong enough for his magic to work. Then, it was as if a pair of hands reached inside my body and wrapped around my arms and legs. I felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled this way and that. Despite my many aches and pains, I had this sudden urge to do
exactly
what Devon said. To run and run and run until I either dropped dead of exhaustion or blood loss. The shape I was in, it was going to be the blood loss.

So I grabbed Devon's hand, and we started running.

He kept up with me the best he could, but he still couldn't go very fast, given his own injuries. He hissed with pain, but he didn't ask me to slow down. He knew I couldn't, not with his magic compelling me to run, run, run. So I tightened my grip on his hand and dragged him along with me. It was run, or die.

So we ran . . . and ran . . . and ran . . .

And slowly, much too slowly, the bridge loomed in front of us.

“You're dead, Lila! Do you hear me? You're both dead!”

Grant continued to shout behind us, but I didn't dare turn around to see how close he was. All we had to do was make it across the bridge, and it wouldn't matter. That was my plan, anyway—and the only hope Devon and I had left.

But a funny thing happened. We'd just started up the bridge when I realized that I didn't feel the need to run anymore. That I wasn't being compelled by his Talent. Instead, my own transference power had kicked in, and the cold rush of magic flowing through my veins was what was giving me the strength to run.

Devon and I hurried up the gentle curve of the bridge, but I tightened my grip on his hand and veered toward the stone set into the right side.

“What are you doing?” Devon croaked. “Are you crazy? They're right behind us!”

I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. Grant and the other two men had closed the gap to a block. In a few more seconds, they'd start up the bridge and catch us.

I was counting on it.

I opened my fist and slapped my mom's ring down on the stone in the center of the bridge, the stone marked with the three Xs. Somehow, the sapphire gleamed, despite my blood smeared all over the ring.

I tightened my grip on Devon's hand, pulled him away from the edge, and hurried down the far side of the bridge.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought that I heard a familiar, distinctive
clink,
as what I had offered up was accepted.

We stepped off the far side of the bridge when the last of the magic burned out of my body. I took a step forward and ended up falling to one knee before Devon could catch me. He hauled me back upright and put his arm around my waist again, but I couldn't go any farther.

“Stop,” I whispered.

Devon tried to drag me forward, but my bare, bruised, bloody feet barely shuffled along the cobblestones. “We have to get out of here!”

“We're safe,” I whispered again. “I know we are. So trust me. Please?”

Doubt flared in his eyes, but he nodded and stopped trying to drag me away. Instead, he turned so that we were both facing our enemies.

By this point, Grant and his men were on the bridge.

Grant realized we weren't going to keep running, and he started laughing. “Making one final stand, eh? Don't you know that you only do that when all hope is lost?”

I shrugged, as though I didn't care about how close he was, although I really, really did. Grant was about a third of the way across the bridge, with the two guards a few steps behind him. None of them so much as glanced at the stone where I'd placed the ring. Good.

“You should have let me kill you in the slaughterhouse, Lila,” Grant continued his triumphant crowing. “Not made me chase you all the way out here. Because now—now I'm going to make it
hurt
.”

I gestured at the blood dripping out of my wounds. “And you think this doesn't?”

He grinned. “Trust me. By the time I'm done with you, those will feel like paper cuts.”

I locked eyes with him and my soulsight kicked in, letting me see and feel exactly how much he meant his twisted words—and how very cruel he was. I shuddered. I'd rather get eaten by a monster than let Grant get his hands on me again. The monster would be a kinder, quicker death. Besides, monsters had to eat, too. I'd probably taste like bacon to them.

“If this doesn't work,” I whispered, “you need to drop me and run. Get as far away from here as you can.”

Devon shook his head, and his mouth set into a hard line. “I'm not leaving you.”

I sighed at his stubbornness. “All right then. I hope this works.”

“What?”

“You'll see.”

Grant kept coming, with the two guards marching along behind him, all of them eager to cut us into tiny, bloody pieces. Devon tightened his arms around me, and we both lifted our chins and waited.

Grant moved closer to the middle of the bridge. So did the guards. All he had to do was take a few more steps forward, and then hopefully, my plan would be put into action—

Grant stopped just short of the halfway mark of the bridge.

His head snapped left and right, as he peered into the shadows that cloaked everything. “What are you up to, Lila? What's going on?”

“What do you mean?”

He gave me an appraising look. “I've been watching you ever since you joined the Sinclairs. You're smart. Clever. You always have something up your sleeve. So why did you stop? Why are you giving up?”

I arched an eyebrow. “I wouldn't say that stabbing you, freeing Devon, and running away was giving up. More like totally embarrassing for you, that you couldn't keep two people prisoner for more than, like, an hour. Not quite the criminal mastermind, huh, Grant?”

One of the guards snickered. Grant shot him an evil glare, and the other man started coughing, trying to hide his laughter. But it was enough to push Grant over the edge.

“You know what, Lila?” he growled. “I'm going to cut your tongue out—before I kill you.”

Grant tightened his grip on his sword, and then he did the one thing I'd been hoping he would all along—he stepped past the center stone where I'd put the ring.

So did the other two men. Together, the three of them crested the top of the bridge and started down the far side, heading toward us.

Devon moved to let me go and put himself between me and our enemies, but I tightened my grip on his hand.

“Stop,” I said. “And stand very, very still.”

Devon frowned, but he did as I asked.

Grant slashed his sword through the air. Behind him, the other two men did the same thing, all of them trying to be as menacing as possible. I rolled my eyes. Wasn't that cute.

Still, despite the fact that they were seconds away from killing us, I couldn't help laughing. Despite the pain pulsing through my body, the blood oozing out of my wounds, my fear, despite everything—I laughed.

“What's so funny?” Grant growled.

“Nothing much,” I said. “I was just thinking about when you came to get me from school and took me up to the Sinclair mansion that first day. That, and all the other times we've ridden around town. Every time you come down here, you always go across this bridge.”

“What does that matter?” Grant snapped. “It's the quickest way through town.”

I grinned at him. “It matters because you forgot to pay the lochness toll—
again
.”

He frowned, wondering what I was talking about. But the guards knew. One of them cursed and turned around, staring at the smooth stone in the middle of the bridge. Even as he ran back toward the stone, he dug in his pockets, trying to find a few coins or bills, something, anything, that would save him.

But it was too late.

A long, black tentacle shot up out of the dark surface of the river, spraying water everywhere. Devon gasped. Yeah, I did, too.

The tentacle hovered in the air over the bridge, undulating back and forth like a cobra about to strike.

And then it did.

The tentacle snapped down and coiled around the first guard, the one who'd been rushing to pay the toll. The man was so startled that he lost his grip on his sword, the only thing that might have helped him. He screamed and screamed, beating at the wet tentacle with his fists, but even his strength Talent was no match for the lochness. The tentacle raised the guard high into the air over the bridge, then dragged him down into the river below.

Silence.

As quickly as the tentacle sank down beneath the water, another jetted right back up again. The second man clutched his sword. I thought he might stand and try to fight the lochness, but he turned and started running toward the far side of the bridge, where Devon and I were standing.

But Grant didn't give him the chance to get here.

He waited until the man was in range, then slashed his sword across his henchman's chest. The guard fell to the cobblestones screaming, and the tentacle swooped down and scooped him up as well. Easy peasy. That man also disappeared into the river.

Grant whipped around and started running, trying to get away from the lochness. Beside me, Devon tightened his grip on the dagger I'd given him in the slaughterhouse, even though I doubted he had the strength left to wield the weapon.

“If he makes it, you'll have to try to use your power on him. And if that doesn't work, then you start running. Please—
please
do that for me.”

Devon gave me another stubborn look and shook his head. “Not without you.”

Grant kept racing toward us, moving as fast as he could, his wing tips
smack-smack-smacking
against the cobblestones.

“You bitch!” he screamed again. “You're going to pay for this!”

I didn't respond, wondering if he was actually going to escape the lochness's wrath after all. I kept looking for the creature, or at least its tentacle, but saw nothing. No tentacle, no sprays of water, nothing to indicate that the lochness was still lurking in the river below.

Grant risked a glance over his shoulder, but the bridge was empty now. He turned back around and gave me a smug look. “Looks like my men paid the toll for me. So what are you going to do now, Lila?”

My heart sank because I didn't have an answer. This—
this
had been my plan. The old traditions. The customs that my mom had drilled into my head. The ones that I'd always respected and enjoyed following. But right now, it didn't look like they were going to be enough to save us.

Devon tensed, waiting for Grant to get in range. No matter what happened, Devon was going to stand by my side and defend me to his dying breath. That meant more to me than just about anything.

But he didn't have to.

Grant stepped off the bridge, putting one foot onto the street. Just as his second foot was about to touch down, a tentacle shot out of the shadows, slithered across the cobblestones, and wrapped itself around his ankle.

Grant fell to the ground, his sword skittering out of his hand. Slowly, the tentacle pulled him back onto the bridge. But Grant wasn't going without a fight. He hooked his hands over a cobblestone that jutted up from the bridge's surface. The tentacle pulled at him again, giving him an impatient yank, but Grant held on tight—so tight that his nails started to crack and bleed. But that was better than the alternative.