“How sweet,” Eleanor drawled. “Did you hear that, Slate? Verin and Elaria are meant to be.”
“Just like my claws are meant to be in your throat,” Slate snarled.
Eleanor chuckled. “I love it when you get aggressive.”
“So, what's the plan?” I asked Eleanor. “You crush us all beneath a ton of rock and dirt and then what?”
“Then I come back for Slate, get him out of this box, and we spend some time in my house on the other end of the island,” she said with a smile. “When you're gone and that spell is destroyed with you, he'll be free of your magic and he'll thank me.”
“I will thank you when your cold, dead body lies before me!” Slate shouted.
“You're under a spell, sweetheart,” Eleanor said tenderly. “But I won't abandon you. Don't worry. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.”
Anything. I glanced at Verin again. Was I as bonkers as Eleanor? I had six amazing men but I still couldn't let Verin go? That sounded pretty insane. No, there wasn't anything wrong with doing whatever you had to do to save a man you loved, but I wasn't saving Verin. He loved me but it wasn't enough. And there's nothing wrong with that. He valued his people more than love. More than his own happiness. It sucked, but it was a valid choice. Fighting that choice would only hurt us both. I didn't want to end up with Verin in a cage and a detonator in my hand.
Time to stop the insanity.
“Cer,” I whispered.
Cerberus looked over at me and I motioned to the traveling stone on my necklace. He nodded crisply and glanced around—hopefully looking for someone to take with him.
“You're not waiting to bargain with us,” Vivian concluded. “You just wanted to gloat before you killed us.”
“Oh, Vivian.” Eleanor sighed. “I truly am sorry that you made it past the traps. You should be out there in the jungle, safely prowling with Odin. You would have returned to yourself in a few hours with no memory of what happened and I would have let you leave here alive and well. But as much as I wish it were otherwise, here you are. I want you to know that I greatly admire and respect you. Your death will weigh heavily upon me.”
“You tried to set me up,” Vivian said calmly. “That is hardly respect.”
“They would have found you innocent eventually,” she scoffed. “But you, Glinda, I'm glad to see you go. You're a snotty bitch.”
“I am not!” Glinda gasped.
“Glinda is lady,” I snarled. “There's only one bitch in this room and I'm staring right at her.”
“Speaking of bitches,” Eleanor went on smoothly. “You're a horrid, ugly, crass creature. I will never understand what one man could possibly see in you, much less six. Who the fuck do you think you are? Striding about like you own everything and can have anyone you want. Even when you were a prisoner in Slate's zone, you still acted as if you were Queen. So, you're a Spellsinger, so what? You think you're so fucking special. Well, can you sing fast enough to save yourself from this?”
Eleanor flicked open the plastic cover on the detonator. As she did, I called upon my magic—all of my magic—and opened my mouth to sing. One hand grasped my traveling stone while my other reached for Vivian. She had her own stone, but I wasn't sure she'd think to use it and I wasn't about to take the chance. Meanwhile, the witches summoned their elements, some of them focusing on the ceiling as if they might try to hold it up. Slate slammed against his metal cage, roaring in impotent fury. Everyone seemed to leap into action at once but it was Declan who managed to do something useful. He manifested a thick metal ceiling with several sturdy, steel columns to support it, just beneath the one wired to blow. Even if it didn't hold, we'd at least have time to escape.
But that wasn't why I stopped my song before it had begun.
Verin acted faster than the rest of us. I suspected he'd been planning his move from the moment he'd stepped into the room. He shifted in an instant, using the extending length of his body to cross the room in seconds and take him straight to Eleanor. Eleanor's head, to be precise. With one chomp of his strong jaws, the Blue Dragon decapitated the Water Witch.
Eleanor's body fell limply to the floor as her hand released the detonator. It clattered onto the hardwood. Verin spat her head out as if it disgusted him. It rolled to a stop against her hip, its eyes wide with shock.
“Well, that bites,” I grumbled. “I had the perfect song.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
“That bites!” Cerberus chortled and lifted his fist. “Good one, El!”
“Thank you.” I fist-bumped him.
“What the fuck is happening out there?” Slate roared.
I rushed to the cell's door, threw the bolt, yanked it open, and called out, “Ding dong!”
Slate's grinning Gargoyle face came into view. “The witch is dead?”
“You got it, babe.” I grinned back.
