Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,97
around the edges. In fact, it felt as if my body had been utterly and completely drained by the force that had exploded from me.
I waved a hand, a small movement that had my head pounding. “I’m fine, but thanks.”
His expression suggested he didn’t believe one word of that particular statement, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. “You’d better head home, then. I’ll take care of this scum and lock down the area.”
“I’ll drive you home.” Belle reappeared out of the gloom. “You’re certainly in no state.”
I didn’t argue. I simply didn’t have the strength. I carefully made my way around to the passenger side of the vehicle and climbed in. As Belle drove out of the storage facility, I opened the glove compartment and fished out several chocolate bars.
“What was that flash at the very end, just before he started shooting?”
“A goddamn warning alarm had been woven into the circuitry. I wasn’t expecting it.” Her expression was grim. “My inattention could have killed you.”
“But it didn’t, so stop stressing.” I bit into a Snickers Bar, but the nutty nougat goodness didn’t immediately make me feel any better. I rather suspected it’d take a whole lot more than a couple of chocolate bars for that to happen. “I’ll have to get Monty to raise the urgency on his search through the archives for any more information on wild magic. The stuff that’s happening is goddamn scary.”
Belle glanced at me. “I did feel the surge of power, but I thought it was the reservation’s wild magic rather than yours because of its sheer force.”
“It melted the goddamn bullets, Belle. Melted them.”
“Which is as scary as fuck, but also somewhat comforting.”
“Except it feels like it’s aged me ten years.”
Her gaze swept me, and concern stirred through our link. “You do look gaunt, but that’s not unexpected when you think about it. It’s obviously drawing on your personal strength, and that means the bigger the force, the bigger the cost.”
“And makes me wonder if it could actually kill me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s sourced from your DNA, so surely self-preservation mode would kick in before that happened.”
“I’d like to think so, but given I don’t appear to have full control over what’s happening, who actually knows?” I took another bite of the Snickers. “All magic costs, and the greater the spell, the deeper the cost—how often were we told that in school? There certainly have been witches who were killed by their own spells.”
“Yes, but it’s a rarity.”
“I think it’s safe to say that being born with wild magic fused to your DNA is something more than a mere rarity.”
“True.” Her expression was grim. “I’ll stick a fire under Monty’s ass and get him motivated.”
“I think the promise of hot and heated—”
“Do not finish that thought.”
I chuckled, then winced as pain stirred anew. It felt like there were dozens of tiny men gleefully stabbing red-hot pokers into my brain. I reached for the backpack and grabbed some Panadol, though I seriously doubted the tablets would make all that much difference.
“Maybe you need to take tomorrow off,” Belle said in concern. “It’s not like the café will be flat-out given the storms they’re predicting.”
“You know putting a statement like that out there in the world means fate will take it as a challenge.”
“And we’ll cope if she does. Seriously, you need to rest; you’ve been overdoing it magic-wise of late, and you need to take more care of yourself.”
“I’m fine—”
“Tell that to someone who can’t feel your bone-deep weariness.”
Her voice was dry, and I held up a hand. “Okay, I give in. But you’ll ring—”
“I will not. Besides, it takes you twenty minutes on a good day to get from Argyle to Castle Rock. Any rush we experience might be well over by then.”
“Fine.” I paused. “I might just use the time to contact Ashworth—”
“That is not my definition of resting.”
“A five-minute conversation won’t matter one way or the other, and you know it.”
“As long as that’s all it is.” She paused to overtake a slow car. “And Monty will be informed not to call on you if our rogue makes another appearance.”
“I doubt she will, given how badly she was wounded.”
“To echo your words, now that you’ve put that out there, fate will accept it as a challenge.”
I hoped not. I actually hoped her wounds would knock the thought of revenge out of her mind and that she’d do the sensible thing and get the hell out of the reservation.