that naive.
Fear swirls in Rogan’s eyes as he clutches onto me in a bruising hold with one hand and claws at his throat with the other. Heaves and wet coughs wrack his body, as once again everything goes so wrong so fast. Rage explodes through me, my blood heating with the potent and punishing need for vengeance.
In a flash, I lash out with my magic and snap my tethers to the bone matter all around me taut. Bone matter that this coven of witches has been breathing in while they waited for Prek’s next orders. I bypass any protection amulets they might have leaving their bones alone and only calling to the particles of powder I sneakily introduced to their systems. I wrap the tethers of magic connecting me to each of the Vicinal Witches surrounding me, around my fist, and all at once shut each of them down.
Thoughts of mercy flee my mind as I direct the bone powder to close their airways. The assaulting wind around me stops, and Rogan falls to his knees, coughing and finally able to try and breathe. Witches around me wheeze and choke, their gurgles slowly growing silent as their wide panicked eyes turn terrified.
I should feel bad as I pull air deep into my lungs and watch unconsciousness—and I know eventually death—creep into the visages of the witches all around me. But my compassion and sympathy have fled. There’s no doubt in my mind that each and every one of them would gladly kill Rogan, kill me, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.
Fury scalds me as one witch drops to her knees, her hood flung back to reveal carrot orange hair and a purple hue to her oxygen-starved skin. Her eyes plead for me to stop, but where was her mercy, her pardon, when I was in a car flipping down the embankment, or when Rogan was being drowned from the inside out?
Other witches fall to their knees, weak and clasping at their impotent throats, but I ignore them and move closer to Prek. I want to see his face as karma bitch-slaps him across it. I want him to look into my eyes as his vision speckles with blackness, so that he knows without a shadow of doubt that his vicious actions are what sealed not only his fate, but the fate of everyone on his team.
Fear swims in his gaze as he looks up at me from where he’s fallen to the now still ground. He blinks, and then something weird happens. A trail of crimson trickles out of the corner of his eyes. I watch it move down his cheeks slowly, and then see another line of blood drip down from his nose. He’s bleeding.
“Leni, stop!” Rogan croaks, and then he’s overcome with coughs, the sound of them thankfully dry, indicating that he’s dispelled all the water from the abused organs.
I ignore him, too captivated by the trail of blood now seeping out of Prek’s ears. I’ve never watched anyone being strangled to death; maybe the blood is normal. Something niggles at the back of my mind, screaming at me that this isn’t normal. That I shouldn’t be so calm about something so wrong, so utterly horrifying like watching someone die. But it’s as if any ability to care was stripped from me.
Maybe I’m in shock or suffering from some kind of traumatic brain injury. Or maybe I’ve just had enough of other magic users thinking they can do whatever they want to me with no repercussions. Whatever it is, I’m far past the point of caring.
“Leni, Love, what are you doing?” a luscious and silky voice coos at me.
I pull my gaze from the lines of blood paving their way down Prek’s face and look over to find Marx. Surprise flashes through me, quickly replaced by suspicion. What is he doing here? As though he can read the question in my eyes, his lips tilt up in a carefree smile, but it doesn’t match the worry in his espresso-colored eyes.
“Rogan called me, beautiful, told me that a coven from the Order was out here messing with him.”
I look from Marx to Rogan, who’s struggling to get on his feet. Marx quickly moves to help him.
“I sent him a message just after I healed myself,” Rogan confirms, his voice pure gravel, and he reaches into his pocket and produces his phone as if I need the extra proof.
“Lennox, you have to stop,” Rogan orders once again, but it’s