I jerk, startled by his vehemence. When his shadow covers me, I lower my voice, “Please…”
You’re scaring me.
Zuriel told me to never use his name.Never.Yes, I’ve said it, when we’re surrounded by brick walls and wards. But out in the open, here? Where anyone could hear? It’s too risky, too dangerous. It doesn’t make sense.
He would never ask me to invoke him out in the open. Never.
Low electricity hums through me, my nerves firing as a hush of tension hangs between us, my palms glowing. They’re burning, though weaker than before. Squinting, my throat tightens as sweat beads down my brow. The light grows, distorting my surroundings, blinding me.
Zuriel squeezes my arm. “Summer. Put your hands down or you’ll attract attention.”
“Something’s not right,” I whisper, stalling.
The way he’s pinching my arm. I know his touch andthis isn’t it.
Closing my eyes, and twisting my palms outward, I aim them at Zuriel.
His grip on me drops. He staggers back. “Bitch!”
“Adrial,” I name him.
I’m shaking, terrified of what I’m attempting. I can’t destroy him, not like this. The last time I was near Zuriel and able to look at him. I can’t hold this for long. I need to get inside the museum.
I focus one hand on him as I drop the second into my purse, seeking my keys, relieved to find their textured edge. Testing each step, reaching my arm back, I climb the three steps to the backdoor entrance.
“Summer, don’t! I am not your enemy!”
His voice sounds so much like Zuriel I hesitate.
It’s a struggle to open the door, yanking the chains off and inserting the key. My vision darkens, tunneling around the edges, struggling to separate up from down. My head pounds wildly, sweat dripping from my pores.
“Why command me like this? With my own light? Invoke me!”
I prop the door open, swaying to keep my balance, trying not to faint. My hand falls as I stagger against the threshold.
Adrial rushes forward. “You’re too weak, you fucking bitch.”
He grabs my wrists, twisting them sharply. Burning flesh floods my nose as I cry out. He yanks me forward, and I fall into him, the heavy door slamming into us.
I’m screaming. The fire in my chest rises into my throat, demanding release. Screams become shrieks as light streams from my mouth, burning my lips and blasting out of me.
There’s a crack, the smack of skull against concrete, and then silence.
Everything goes dark.
When I rouse, I’m lying in a warm pool of sticky blood, the reek of copper encroaching upon the sickening aroma of cooked skin. I wipe away the worms that have crawled onto me. My brands no longer burn. My throat on the other hand… The alleyway lights flicker on, the sky purplish.
Slowly sitting up, I find a smoldering form on the ground beside me. Something wiggles nearby—a worm, I think. Touching the mass, I jerk my fingers back. They come away sticky and warm.
John.
He’s dead.
I killed him.
I rise to my knees. “Oh, no, no, no.”
Memories flood me, scented with car oil and rubber, as I remember the boy who played with Hot Wheels, the man who was so proud of his Mustang.I did this, I did this. I didn’t mean to do this!
