“Is Caria at work?”
Jodelle rolls her eyes at my question, not understanding what I’m trying to say.
“Of course, that’s the only thing you care about, that damn witch. I should have hugged her instead. Good riddance.”
I grasp her arm. “Answer me.”
“Ouch, yes, Fynn, she was there when I left. Let me go, you’re hurting me.”
Ignoring her pleas, I tighten my grip on her arm, pressing my fingertips into her skin. Part of me hopes she’ll have the marks to show for it later. I stand up and drag Jodelle off the bench. I yank her along as she cries and begs me to let her go. The witch's corpse is no concern of mine; I will let it rot as the human bodies have for weeks after the night creatures brutally slaughtered them. I stop, halting Jodelle in her tracks as well.
I turn around and bellow, “No one touches that corpse. If anyone does, you’ll be the next one to decay. I’ll know exactly who you are; I can smell it. Spread the word.”
My words linger, and I continue to walk, maintaining my pace, as Jodelle attempts to match my speed. She keeps tripping and falling. I don’t let go of her arm despite it dragging her right back to her feet.
She belongs to me and may be used as I please. She deserves to be hurt.
I crack my neck, trying to dispel the thought. We enter the inn, and I push Jodelle against the bar. She grunts from the impact, and I splay my hand on her back to keep her in place.
“Caria!” I yell.
The death witch glances at us with furrowed brows, uncertain about what is happening. She slowly dries a cup, puts it in a cabinet, tucks the towel into the back pocket of her pants, and approaches us wearily. Caria stops mid-stride.
“Fynn…” she says.
“Come closer,” I beckon.
“I can’t when you’re… likethat… Fynn. You know that,” she replies with a grimace on her face.
I feel the rage swirling inside me, and I don’t know how to control it. Jodelle whimpers softly, and I see Caria staring at her in confusion. Her staring at Jodelle triggers me.
“Can you smell it from over there?” I ask, my voice laced with anger.
“Smell what…?” Caria’s eyes don’t leave Jodelle as she answers me.
“Damnit, my magic, the Aurum, Caria. Can you sense it on Jodelle? Is it stronger than before?”
I am seething now, my body visibly trembling from the restraint I manage, and I want to pin Jodelle’s head to the bar with a dagger.
“I don’t know, Fynn… your smell is exuding and pretty overbearing. It burns into my nostrils. I’m not your personal sniffer,” Caria replies, slightly irritated.
She folds her arms as she stares me down.
I let go of Jodelle. Relief ripples through Caria. I see it on her face, and I storm out of the building. I stand outside, my impatience growing as I wait—five minutes, then ten. I bare my teeth at anyone who crosses me, while vampires and witches shrink back in fear. The Aurum courses through my veins, its power intensifying.
Then I go back inside. Jodelle is sitting at the bar, her body shaking, tears and mucus covering her face. It’s disgusting, andI wrinkle my nose in dismay. Caria catches my eye and gives a slight nod that confirms Jodelle’s words. Jodelle spoke the truth when she said she siphoned my powers, even though she didn’t know how.
Instead of happiness, rage courses through me, and irrationally, I begin to interrogate Jodelle, demanding she tell me how she did it, how she stole my magic. Instead of answering, all she does is cry, and I notice even Caria is uncomfortable with how I’m handling Jodelle. I take Jodelle by the arm once more and drag her upstairs, away from Caria and other curious onlookers.
Back in the room, I keep firing questions at her, but she is unable to answer any of them.
“I don’t know!” she screams. “I thought you’d be happy, no longer needing to babysit me!”
My fingers itch, my mind no longer my own as villainous thoughts claw their way into my subconscious. Visions come into play not only of killing Harlot, but also of Jodelle and even Caria.
“You can’t imprison me in this little room anymore, Fynn,” she bites. “Finally, I am free.”
“As if I would ever let you go. You’re mine. You belong to me, and only me,” I snarl.
