Above, the horror screeched.
The cruel Finn’s chin dropped to his chest. His eyes closed, and he took in great, heaving breaths. He shuddered one last time, and then the earthquake-like shaking subsided. The light dimmed, and the glow faded.
Finn’s fists were clenched, and his jaw was hard. He looked like his father. Like Wolfgang at his coldest. A soldier who wasn’t there to protect but to slaughter.
He filled the crevice with his power, and I backed against the dirt and stone wall.
The good Finn was gone. Only the cruel Finn was left.
He loosened his fists, rolled his shoulders, and then, lifting his head, opened his eyes.
He captured me with the force of his gaze. It pinned me to the stone. I froze, unable to move.
“Mari.” His voice was thunderstorm-raw, and the rumble of it rolled over me.
I shivered. His cosmic-blue solange eye was gone. Both eyes were hazel again. What did it mean? His gaze softened, and I fell into the summer thunderstorm promise of them. He lifted his hand, and I felt the illusion swirling even before he conjured.
I reached into my pocket and threw my last blood snake at his feet. It sprang to life, and six feet of venomous snake rushed at him.
Finn shouted, and I scrambled up the wall.
I rushed from the crevice, dodging fireballs and the horror’s seeking darkness.
The Smiths had surrounded it and were shooting fireballs into the dark. Larvae smoked and writhed on the pavement. Last had dragged Primus behind her stone hill.
Jagger’s remaining creatures shot fire at the Smiths while the tornado tore through them.
“Well?” Jagger asked.
“He’s dead,” I said, and when I did, he laughed.
“Both of them?”
“No. The good one.”
I didn’t smile at Jagger’s amusement. His flat gray eyes raked over me, and he grabbed the obsidian blade at his throat. “Good. Never forget, Mari. A man willing to die for a cause often becomes a man willing to kill for it. That’s what happened, isn’t it? Lesson learned.”
He jerked his head, nodding toward the fight.
Griff dropped from out of the black sky, spreading his dark wings. A hot breeze blew past as he tucked his wings behind him.
“Where have you been?” Jagger’s voice dripped with the promise of punishment.
Griff nodded toward the darkness. Jagger and I both turned. Winnie strolled out of a black cloud. Her hands were behind her back, and she moved with a jaunty, skip-like stride, as if she were frolicking in the park.
Behind her, Justice limped from the darkness.
My chest clenched, and the secret spot in my heart that loved him pulsed with fear. He looked like he’d just walked through hell and wasn’t planning on turning around and coming out again.
He moved heavily, slowly, as if every step caused unspeakable agony. Finally, he stopped a foot from Jagger.
“I failed,” he said.
Jagger was a giant creature. Even so, Justice had never seemed small or weak compared to him. But now, as he hunched over in defeat, he seemed very, very small.
Jagger looked over Justice contemptuously. He hated weakness in any form. Justice, broken and beaten, was the epitome of everything Jagger hated. Usually, when he saw something weak, he killed it.
“I see that,” Jagger said, his gray lips pulling back. “What have I always told you? There is no failure for you, only death.”
