“I think you got the statues but you don’t know how to use them,” he said. “Now you’re looking for someone who can help you tap into the power.”
“Believe whatever you want.” She surged to her feet, still struggling to break free of his grasp. “I’m out of here.”
“I don’t think so.”
He glanced toward the back of the room where the guard was obviously waiting for his cue. The bald goblin dressed in a black uniform moved forward, revealing that there were three more guards behind his massive form. They spread out to cover the exits, making sure Wynn would have to fight her way out.
“You can’t be serious?” she questioned in annoyance.
“Hand over the statues and you can walk away,” Albert warned. “No fuss, no muss.”
Wynn glanced down at the fingers wrapped around her wrist, searching through the strands of magic humming inside her. Ignoring the pulsing red strand, she grasped the slender blue thread of magic. A cool tingle of power fizzed through her like a fine champagne.
“Oh, there’s gonna be a muss when you’re splattered across the wall,” she informed him, releasing the magic in one solid burst.
The magic sizzled through the air, coalescing into a solid ball as it slammed into Albert. She’d hoped to knock him on his ass or at least make him stumble off balance. Anything to create a distraction so she could escape. But the renegade strand of red magic once again decided to interfere, shooting out to join the small blast. It wasn’t content to shove the goblin to the ground. Instead, it wrapped around him and lifted his massive form high inthe air. Albert screeched in fury, glaring down at her with foam at the edges of his mouth. As if his anger at being manhandled was making him rabid.
Wynn smiled, watching with pleasure as the magic gave the goblin a disdainful jerk before tossing him across the room. For once she didn’t mind the unpredictable strand adding the extra umph of power. Not when it was sending the treacherous demon sailing through the air to land on the nearest display case.
There was a loud crash as the glass shattered and the steel frames buckled beneath Albert’s impressive weight. Swearing in a language that Wynn didn’t recognize, the demon forced himself to his feet and hastily backed from the various crystals, amulets, and orbs infused with ancient spells that were now exposed. The pulse of their power spilled through the air, raising the hair on Wynn’s nape. She could determine that at least one of them was a dangerous curse and another glowed with a white-hot heat. Not dragon magic, but a fey lightning rod.
“What are you waiting for?” He glared toward his goons even as he dug out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face. “Get her.”
The guards cautiously moved forward, no one wanting to be the first to get close, despite the fact they each had at least a hundred pounds on her and glowed with the crimson aura of pureblooded goblins. After witnessing her pick up their leader and toss him across the room like he weighed nothing, they had to wonder what other nasty tricks she might have waiting for them.
Not that she could depend on their hesitation. Albert’s hands were already curling into fists of frustration, as if he were preparing to thump some courage into his employees.
Wynn’s gaze skimmed the room. The obvious exits were cut off, but maybe she could reach the narrow window on the far side of the gallery. The trick was keeping the guards away long enough to make her escape. A task easier said than done.
Inching to the side, Wynn moved to stand next to the shattered display case. Instantly she felt the magic wash over, trying to penetrate the shields she’d woven into her coat. It was dangerous to stand so close to such powerful objects, but she didn’t have any choice. There were only a few things that could frighten a goblin. Especially when they were in the center of a Gyre where they could touch the magic that pulsed beneath their feet.
Holding out her hand, she placed it over the crystal that glowed with a dull gray light.
“Stay back or I’ll turn your manly parts into squishy grapes,” she warned in a voice that brought the goons to an abrupt halt.
The three guards exchanged glances, licking their lips as they weighed their job against the potential of having their balls turned to grapes. The silence stretched as Wynn measured the distance to the window.
Then with a strangled growl, Albert stomped his foot. “Dammit. She can’t curse all of you.”
The largest of the goons took a hesitant step forward. Wynn sent him a taunting smile.
“You want to be first? All right, come and play.”
“Do it or I’ll have you flayed and tossed in the pit for the hounds to gnaw on,” Albert snapped.
The male shuddered, but with a grim determination he forced his feet forward, motioning toward his companions to join him. Wynn’s hand remained above the display case, but she shifted it to hover over the three-foot rod that glowed with a searing heat. She’d accidentally absorbed curses before. It wasn’t an experience she was eager to repeat. She just wanted the goblins to fear they were going to be castrated to give her some time. The hope was that she could scare the guards to back away far enough to give her a shot at escaping.
Now it looked like she was going to have to fight her way out. She needed a weapon that could do more than scare the demons. She needed to be able to kill them.
Allowing the fey magic to flow through the palm of her hand, Wynn hissed as the heat scalded through her flesh and into her body. It was going to take a few minutes to finish absorbing the power and then allow it to settle into a visual strand that she could use. Until then she was vulnerable.
Unfortunate, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Keeping her attention locked on the guards slowly closing the distance, Wynn ignored the heat that gathered around her. There was no way to absorb lightning without getting burned. That didn’t make it any less painful.
It wasn’t until a familiar voice whispered next to her ear that she realized it wasn’t the rod causing the heat. It was her pain-in-the-ass dragon.
“Troubles, my elusive mouse?” he asked in a soft voice.
