Shattered Bonds (Jane Yellowrock #13) - Faith Hunter Page 0,57

anyway, as I climbed the stairs and fell into bed. I was about to find out what would happen if I went to sleep in half-form. I closed my eyes and fell into slumber.

* * *

* * *

I woke to the feel of my whiskers being pulled. “Ow. That hurts!” I said, grabbing the little hand.

“Dis isna a How’oween costume,” EJ said. “You tolded me a lie.”

“How did he get in here?” Bruiser asked from my other side.

“He’s got magic,” I said.

“Not good magic. Waymon dead. I hadda stick him in the ground. It made me cwy.”

I checked to make sure all the private parts were covered or pelted and sat up. “Who’s Waymon?”

“Him my tu-tle. Mama said you sick like Waymon. Are you gonna die? Can we bury you in the backyard with Waymon?”

“Um, no. I do not intend to die and you may not bury me.”

EJ pouted for all of five seconds. “You wanna see my maaarbal?” He pulled a marble out of his pocket. It was a large white one with a blue cat’s-eye swirl in the middle. I was groggy with sleep but something about it hinted that I shouldn’t touch the marble. In Beast-vision it was magicked, a small golden sparkle of power against the little boy’s hand. It was a version of a no-see-ums working. Maybe a no-touch-ums working. And beneath that was a tracking device working. It was a multilayered charm and it glowed with power.

“Mama says I gotta keep it in my pawket all the time.” He put it back in his pocket and patted his jeans. “My sissy gots one too, but hers is purple.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Don’ die tonight, Ant Jane.” He slid off the bed and out the door, his little feet stomping down the hallway.

Bruiser reached out an arm and encircled my waist, pulling me close to him, my butt against his middle. He nuzzled my neck. And started snoring. It made me smile and I closed my eyes as sleep pulled me back under.

* * *

* * *

I woke screaming. Fighting. Pain like my flesh being flayed from my back.

“Jane! Jane, it’s a dream! Jane, stop fighting!” Bruiser’s voice, afraid. The smell of his blood on the air.

I went still, chest heaving, unballed my fists. Tried to slow my breathing. Couldn’t. “Edmund. They’re skinning him alive.”

From the doorway, Eli said gently, “We’re here, Janie. We’ll handle it.” A weapon made clicking noises as he safetied it.

We’ll handle it. Because I couldn’t. “He’s in a bedroom. In the Regal. There was a parley there once. I recognized the room Grégoire, or maybe it was Leo, stayed in.” I looked at Bruiser. “You’re bleeding.”

He gave me that devil-may-care grin he had worn when I first met him. “My fiancée packs a punch.”

From the open door, I heard screaming. Angie Baby. The electric sensation of her magic swept through the inn. I threw back the covers and raced from the room, pulling on Beast’s strength and speed. The house was the dusky dark of heavy clouds and densely falling snow, lamps lit and tiny stairway bulbs glowing. Took the staircase in a single leap. Landed three-pawed and sped across the central magic area into the far wing and the panicked screams and the smell of magic. I caught myself on the doorjambs and swung to a stop in the open door. Angie was on the floor, a coloring book open and crayons scattered everywhere, but she wasn’t coloring. She was on her back, her fingers stretched up, screaming. Her magic writhed and twisted, rising, tightening, trying to form a tornado of pure, raw energy.

Big Evan stood over her, playing his wooden flute. Molly stood at his side, feet braced, arms to the sides, hands pointed downward, drawing power from the earth. She was sweating. On the bed, the baby had started to cry, a thin, demanding wail. Eli slipped in, sprinted to Cassy, rolled across the bed, gathering her up, his momentum rotating them both to safety. Little Evan was sitting on the bed, watching, a finger in his mouth.

There was no circle. Nothing to contain the magics Molly and Evan were working with and fighting. I’d seen them trying to contain their daughter’s raw power before. That time she had ripped the roof off the house.

Bruiser placed the Glob in my hand and le breloque on my head. The crown sealed itself to me. Freaky as always. I studied the Everhart-Trueblood magics.

There was no

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