I raise my bow, wind up, and swing it like a bat, throwing my weight behind it. It smacks into his temple. His head snaps to the side, and then he crumples. He doesn’t get up. With everything I have left, I kick him in the ribs. No response. I squat down and take his pulse. Alive but definitely out.Fucker.
“Seven.” I leave Chance and rush to his side. I’m so tired, but somehow I flip him over. He’s beat up bad. One eye is swollen shut, and his T-shirt is soaked in blood.
“Gods, Sophia, run!” he mumbles when his good eye flutters open and he recognizes me.
“Chance is knocked out. I’m okay.” I brush back the hair from his face. A gash in his forehead bloodies my hand.
“Tried to distract ’im so you could get away.”
“It worked. I got out. I got help. Godmother is on her way.”
He takes my hand, and a corner of his mouth twitches. I think it’s the only part of his face he can still move. “So sorry…”
“Shhh.”
A drop hits our coupled hands, and I realize it came from my face. I wipe away the next tear, and then lean down to press a kiss to that unbruised corner of his mouth. All my adrenaline is gone, and I stretch out beside him on the floor, closing my eyes and pressing my forehead to his temple. “It’s over.”
I’m not sure when I pass out, but when I wake, I’m no longer touching Seven. He’s still there, a few feet away from me but appears to be unconscious.
I hear a snap like a thick branch breaking over a knee and reposition myself so I can see the source. Godmother is there, power swirling around her and filling the room with the scent of violets. Chance hovers in the air in front of her, held within bonds of light that tether him to the walls like he’s trapped in a massive spiderweb.
“You stupid fuck,” Godmother says, her voice reverberating in the space. “Now you will finally pay for your crimes.” There’s another snap, and his calf bends at a painful angle, the foot kicking toward her while the rest of the leg remains stationary. My eyes widen as I take in his mangled fingers, his dangling arm. Chase screams, his voice already going hoarse.
Oh my gods. She’s breaking his bones one by one!
Godmother’s gaze drifts to me. Our eyes lock. I haven’t made a sound, and my poker face is firmly in place. I convey no judgment or approval. I make no attempt to move.
Two satyrs arrive with a stretcher through the main door that must lead to the rest of the cabin. They move toward Seven.
“No, not that one.” She points at me with her chin.
The satyrs lower the stretcher beside me and lift me onto it. While one straps me in, the other slips a needle into my arm.
“Oww,” I say. The pain fades, and a warm, floaty feeling overcomes me. I blink, and Godmother and the dungeon are gone. We’re halfway up the stairs I assume lead to the main floor. A moment later, we reach the top. I glimpse a well-appointed living room with a large mirror that covers most of one wall. My head spins. There’s something familiar about it. I need to ask Seven…
I blink again, and this time my eyes remain closed.
ChapterThirty
Luck is what we make it, not what is thrust upon us.—George Bellairs
Iwake in a hospital bed. There’s only one hospital in Devashire, and I know I’m in it by the buzz happening in my blood. I’m as light as air, and bubbles brush the underside of my skin. They’ve been feeding me luck along with the fluids dripping into my arm. My chest, arm, and ankle are wrapped, but the pain is gone. I don’t know what kind of painkillers are involved, but I’m feeling remarkably better.
Until I meet a pair of reptilian eyes in the face of a dark man in an even darker suit. He hovers over me, too close. I cringe, pushing myself deeper into the bed and wishing the mattress would swallow me.
“Well, well, well, it appears you’ve slipped through my fingers once more,” Agent Donovan says. He’s as terrifying as ever, a psychopath in law-enforcement clothing.
“Touch me and I’ll scream,” I warn.
“Relax.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“What do you want?”
He folds himself into a seat beside the bed. “I came to say goodbye. It seems you have friends in high places, Sophia. Godmother traded access to Chance Delaney for expunging your record. As far as we’re concerned at FIRE, you and that human daughter of yours are free and clear of all wrongdoing.”
I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
He shakes his head. “Sad. You and I could have had so much fun. I doubt Chance will be as… amusing.”
