“Oh, is that what you think, dollface?” They speak to me as if I’m naive. Every word is laced with that patronizing tone I’ve come to loathe—sweet on the surface but steeped in condescension, as if I haven’t bled to stand here. “Would you like to know whatIthink?”
“Not particularly.”
“Sintharion, did you hear that? Dollface has bark, but does she bite?” The moonlight catches his menacing grin as he steps closer. Then it showcases the slash running down the side of his neck before his bright blues are fully present, staring at me with intent.
What the hell is taking Voraxis so long? And where in the world did Odeyssa run off to?
The other one, Sintharion, comes into my peripheral, and a glint of metal on his chest catches my attention—some sort of badge, shaped as a shield, with the letters KV engraved on it.
“Come on, man, just let her go.”
“Let her go? She’s ours for the picking. Who’s gonna know?” When he steps just right, I see he also wears the same symbol. “Have a little fun. This one looks like she’ll be tons of it.”
Sintharion turns his head to look at me, and that’s when I see the scar running down the length of the right side of his face, starting at his hairline, over his eye, and all the way down to under his chin. Gods, it looks like it was nearly sliced off.
“If I could just chime in here.” I raise a sarcastic finger, holding their attention. “I believe it would bemeletting you go, not the other way around.”
The one Sintharion called Sergeant lets out a humorless laugh.
“Sarg, seriously, let’s go.”
“She’s coming with us.” He lunges at me, but I don’t give him the chance to grab hold. Fire licks up my arms in an instant, creating an orange glow around me.
“What the—” Sergeant Dickhead murmurs. Sintharion, on the other hand, crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step back, ready to watch the show.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,Sergeant.” His face pinches together with rage, and I can see the wheels turning in that small brain of his.
“Sin—”
“This one’s all you,” he tells him. I catch a hint of a Cheshire grin on his face. A controlled wind swooshes my flames around, threatening to put them out. But I push further and allow the fire to dance higher, and with a nod of my head, a gust of air blows Sergeant a few feet back.
“What are you?” he coughs out.
“Your worst nightmare.” I instruct the flame toward his frame, creating a circle of fire around him. He tries to blow it out, but it’s no use.
“Feel free to jump in any time!” he yells over to his friend.
Sintharion shakes his head, suppressing a laugh as he sends a pathetic excuse of a water ball toward my flames. “This is your fight.”
Who are these guys?
The fire grows, almost fully concealing him on the other side. I sink my fingers into the damp soil, magic bleeding from my palms as I send it racing through the ground, chasing the pulse of an ancient ley line until it coils, waiting, beneath him.
Let the games begin.
My fingers sink in deeper, inch by inch, and slowly, the ground begins to concave. At the same time, I feel Voraxis closing in. He’s nearly here.
“I’d like to make a correction to my last statement,” I start,forcing the realm to dip lower, deeper, carving space from the earth itself with nothing but will and magic. “Weare your worst nightmare.” Voraxis touches down, shaking the ground as he lands. There’s a wildfire caged in my chest, thrashing to be let loose, and if he gives me the world, I’ll scorch the whole damn thing and smile while it burns.
“Oh, shit. You fucked up,” Sintharion coos from the sidelines.
Sergeant yells an obscene number of profanities once he turns and sees my little burnt marshmallow. I watch his silhouette move behind the flames and the exact moment he decides to stick his hand through the orange tendrils.
Let him go,Voraxis demands.
What? You can’t be serious. He was going to take me!
Let him go, Firebird,he insists.
