pieces of what Hudson has told me over the last couple of weeks during our myriad conversations come together in my head.
Jaxon definitely got it wrong. Because if Hudson had really wanted to commit genocide, hell, if he really wanted to kill everyone, he wouldn’t have wasted his time with only using his gift of persuasion. I see it now, what he’s really capable of. With a mere thought, his enemies would have been turned to dust. Not just one. Or ten. Or even a thousand. All of them.
And now I can’t help wondering if the only reason Jaxon defeated Hudson is because Hudson let him win. Because I know, without a doubt, all I need to do is think of something and it will, quite simply, cease to be.
But I don’t have time to ponder this as Cole snickers and crouches down next to me, the goalpost still clutched in his hands like a child’s security blanket—more proof of just how weak he is.
As if I need more proof. I can’t believe this guy is alpha. He’s pathetic—I just never knew how pathetic until right now.
“I can’t wait until I’m done with you.” He sneers. “You don’t belong here. You’ve never belonged here. Foster’s just too chickenshit to admit that. But I’m not. I’m going to do everyone a favor and take care of you once and for all.”
Then he leans down to whisper in my ear. “And then I’m going to take care of Jaxon and Hudson. This is the time—can you feel it? Neither of them is looking quite like their old selves, are they? I have to admit, I was surprised to see Hudson was back. But hey, gives me a chance to kill him myself for the mess he made of my plans last year.”
He nods to the others to get out of the way. And then he lifts the goalpost, preparing to deliver the blow that will guarantee an end to the game and likely an end to me.
In the background, Nuri’s whistle is blowing loud and sharp, but Cole isn’t paying any attention to it. And neither is anyone else. Which is fine with me. Because now that Hudson’s power has spread all the way through me, now that I can feel it in every single part of me, I know exactly what to do. Because no way is Cole going to touch a hair on Jaxon’s or Hudson’s heads.
Not after everything they’ve done for me.
Not after everything they’ve been to me.
“They could destroy you with nothing but a thought,” I hiss at him. “But by the time I’m done, they won’t have to.”
And so I dissolve the vines holding me to the ground with nothing more than the whisper of an idea in my head. I plant one hand on the ground and stagger to my feet, the agonizingly painful ball still clutched in my hand and Hudson’s power flowing through my veins. It mixes with my gargoyle, grows even more powerful…then touches on something else deep inside me. Something I can feel but don’t yet have a name for.
It all mixes together as I finally stand tall, ignoring the bruises and the small, broken pieces of me that litter the ground around us.
Cole’s smug smile falters as he looks at me, but I don’t know why. Probably because he’s not used to anyone standing up to him, least of all the little human girl he’s been messing with since the day she got here.
The little human girl who has turned out to be so much more than any of us ever expected.
Something akin to fear flashes across his face. But then the witches rush to his aid, wands raised as the three of them hit me with spell after spell.
But I’m in my gargoyle form—imbued with a vampire’s power—and every spell they throw at me just rolls right off. Delphina hits me with an icy blast so powerful that it should chip a few more parts of me away—or at least rock me back on my heels. But it does neither, and as I take a step forward, I realize that the foot I’m looking down at doesn’t belong to me. Or at least not normal-size me.
Because with every single spell they send my way, I’m growing larger.
With every chunk of ice Delphina spits at me, I’m becoming taller and stronger, my stone becoming more and more impenetrable.
This is Hudson’s power? I wonder as I take a second step forward.