“Because you’re the easiest mark,” Horace shook his head at me and sighed, putting his hands on his loincloth. I couldn’t help but look down, and yup, Horace seemed to be really excited about stealing my power. The thought grossed me out even more and I gagged a little in my mouth.
“I resent the implication that I’m an easy mark,” I argued, continuing to move, forcing Horace away from the house in order to follow me.
“The white witch has a solid wall of protection. I really wanted the Voodoo priestess’s power, but it’s going to take me a while to get hers. She’s a crafty one though. I’ll enjoy taking her down,” Horace mused.
“Oh, so you’re picking on the weak one of the bunch then? Is that it? Then you’ll grow stronger with each person you steal power from?”
“Pretty much,” Horace said, “It’s just like with all my followers. Stupid minions really. It wasn’t hard to put a little spell on them to come follow my ways. I’ve been draining their life energy all year. Last night was supposed to be the moment that I would take all of it.”
My mouth dropped open.
“You were going to murder them all?”
“They would have simply vanished. Nobody would’ve been the wiser,” Horace shrugged, no big deal, right?
“Um, their families probably would’ve noticed,” I pointed out, stepping further away from him.
“I tried to pick people that were outliers or who didn’t have much family. Either way, what do I care? I was going to be the most powerful one of all. But you ruined that, didn’t you Althea? You and your little troop of magickal friends,” Horace spit before smiling maniacally at me as he raised his arms over his head, his horns thrown backwards.
Hank darted forward, a savage growl ripping from his furry body, as he sank his teeth into Horace’s ankle. I saw Horace’s eyes fly open in pain and surprise.
“Hank, come!” I screeched and surprisingly, Hank listened. He darted back to my side as I reached into my bra and threw the pouch I had tucked there for safekeeping. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was out of ideas and Miss Elva’s pouches had worked in the past.
A flash of heat, so powerful that it caused Hank and me to stumble backwards, raced into our faces. I scooped Hank into my arms and ran for the beach, terrified we were about to be burned alive.
Knowing I would have to look, I turned to see what had happened, Hank’s fuzzy body warm against my chest.
A ring of fire, perfectly formed, surrounded Horace as he beat against an invisible wall.
“What the…” I swore, turning fully and stepping closer so I could see what was happening.
It was like Horace had been enclosed in a cylinder of fire. He beat his fists against the invisible wall, but nothing would shake them. As the flames licked higher into the sky, Horace raised his arms to the sky and screamed.
And in a flash of light – he was gone.
Like,gone, gone. Not a dead body on my lawn with a raging fire around him. Just…gone.
The fire disappeared in an instant, and I ran over to look at my battered grass. A small thin circle was all that remained to remind me of what had happened. I blew out a breath, sweat trickling down my face, and pressed my lips into Hank’s furry head. Relief coursed through me as I began to shake, delayed shock setting in.
“What the hell?”
I looked up to see Cash’s angry face standing in the door to my house. It was the last thing I saw before I went down.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A wet tongueagainst my face brought me out of it and I looked up at the sky to see Cash’s head hovering worriedly over me while Hank licked my face.
“Hank, stop,” I protested.
For the second time that night, Cash put his arms beneath my body and lifted me from the ground. It was enough to almost make me faint again.
I looked up at Cash to see his lips pressed together in a tight line. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know he was pissed.
Cash walked inside the door, turning to pull it closed and locking it, and then proceeded to drop me unceremoniously on the couch.
“Hey,” I protested, pushing myself up on the cushions. Wasn’t I the victim here?
I watched as Cash began to pace the room, his arms swinging in anger.
