As soon as I say the words, I know it’s going to be never. The golem is too strong for just the two of us. It’s going to get away, and the police will come in, shoot at it, and then feel the wrath of the golem. How many will die before they find a way to end it?
“Ace! Hasan!”
I don’t have to turn to know who that voice belongs to. Jacques races forward, grabbing the golem’s other arm. Together, he and Hasan hold the golem, and I go toward it again, feeling the flames grow stronger and stronger. I press one hand to the golem’s chest and aim my other at its face. Fire pours from my fingers, and the golem struggles to get away.
Made of clay, I don’t think it can feel pain, but I’m sure whoever is controlling it wants it to get away. Not today, asshole. I give it all I’ve got, and the golem’s movements start to slow. The clay bakes and hardens, burning Hasan’s and Jac’s hands, but they don’t let go.
I feel the golem start to crack under my palm, but I don’t want to stop yet in case it’s too soon. But the magic is zapping my energy, and I’m suddenly feeling pretty damn weak. I falter, hand slipping off the golem.
“Ace,” Jacques says, letting go of the golem. He wraps one arm around me, helping me stand. I blink, trying to get my eyes to focus. The golem is before us, but now it looks like some terrifying art project made out of clay.
Jacques helps me take a few steps back, and Hasan looks at the golem, tipping his head. Then he punches it, and it cracks into pieces.
“Smash it as best you can,” Jacques tells him, right as several police officers burst in, guns drawn. I inhale, turning around to see Jacques. I don’t remember if he has the charm back on or not.
He does, thank God.
“Are you all right?” one of the officers asks.
“Yeah,” I pant, and point to the guy on the ground. “But he’s not.”
The officers move in, and one of them stops short.
“Detective Bisset?”
Shit. It’s Nick Beasley from work. So much for slipping out of here without giving a statement.
