Valen’s face is smooth, unfeeling, but his eyes shift, warming, glistening with such sincere emotion that I drop my gaze. His warm fingers close around mine briefly before sliding up and taking the tiny braid with him. “What’s the spell?”
I speak the incantation in the ancient tongue, slowly. Valen repeats it back perfectly before he pours his magic into thewords, his voice deepening, the hair on the back of my neck lifting with static.
Instead of the braided hairs burning as they transform into temporary flesh and blood, they glow with the light of Creation. The braids disentangle to float in midair and become three cores to three perfect illusions in the bright sun. A shadow slanted over the illusionary Astoria reveals a hint of the hair core within, but it will do. Valen’s breath shivers, the only sign he permits that the spell took a toll, and he commands in a deep drawl, “Run.”
The three doppelgangers bolt into the street, making no sound as they move, but it’s not needed. They’re seen. Magic immediately roars after them, the crackling power leaving behind a thick scent of ozone, and weavers give chase. More bounty hunters appear and soon there’s a battle for the right to chase them, slowing the pursuers.
Heart in my throat, I wait for them to disappear down the street. Lucas smirks. “Neat trick.”
I sigh. “Thanks. Glad it worked.”
Valen’s eyes roll back while he controls the doppelgangers, the whites visible with an eerie halo from where his irises glow within the sockets. Sweat glistens on his forehead but finally he blinks, eyes back to normal. “Let’s go.”
The remaining sprint to the shop is delightfully uneventful. With the streets clear of people and the magic users running after their fakes, we make a straight line through the city. The glinting gold of Peripeteia’s hanging sign fills me with joy.
I pant, exhilaration helping me pick up speed. “The pentagram needs to be fed!” I can sense its faint whisper from here. “It must’ve been damaged during the sphinx battle.” I laugh. “It all makes sense. No wonder I feel odd.”
I ignore Valen’s unconvinced look and nearly collide with the front door. I rip my hand out of Lucas’ and press both handsfirmly on the wood. The locks click, vibrating excitedly at my return. I smile wildly, pressing my cheek against it. Home.
The door swings open and I stumble in.
I throw my arms wide, breathing the books’ familiar scent deep into my aching lungs. Some of the rotten trash smell still lingers on me, but I don’t let it ruin the moment. I release my breath with a loud “AH!”
I bound up the three steps to the main landing. “Fucking finally!Home.” My cheeks hurt from the wideness of my smile. “Jinx! JINX! I have a surprise for you! He’s hot, dark-haired, and your second-least-favorite Bauer.” I laugh, tossing Valen a playful grin. “No offense.”
The door clicks closed behind Valen, Lucas already stomping up the stairs, but Jinx doesn’t appear. I cup my mouth, too weak to try to talk through our bond. “JINX! Where are you?”
The books shiver and my heart thuds loudly. I scan the stacks, my fingers numb. Whispers are reaching me, too many, too frantic to understand. I taste the tang of the magic, the surging of the warning. The shudder of fear.
The curtains of my back room brush aside.
I still like a deer before a predator. A man with meticulously groomed brown hair steps through, his wyvern-leather boots making no noise. His wide shoulders on a too-large body slant sideways to fit through the narrow door. Yellow eyes meet mine, the same yellow eyes as his second form, a form so powerful that it emanates magic in sickening waves from the pendant burned into his sternum to fuse with his bones.
Dimitar, leader of the Amur Magicians’ Guild and ruler of Delornia’s underworld, smiles widely. His teeth glint bright white in his neatly groomed beard, his canines too large to be natural. Horror shivers down my body, leaving me cold and stepping back. His deep, rumbling voice says, “Welcome home, my sweet Aster—or should I say, Astoria?”
CHAPTER 27
“Where’s Jinx?” My mind is a raw, tingling flood of chemicals that makes me want to scream and explode, my fury a living, breathing thing that will consume them all.
But there’s another part; a small child crying alone in the darkness as fear like I’ve never felt before overtakes my body. It makes me want to fall on my knees and beg in great sobbing pleas. I didn’t beg my father for leniency, I didn’t beg Alasdair to let me go, but I’ll beg this man for Jinx if it means her return. I rub the hollow spot in my chest, finally recognizing it as the place where the bond usually sits. Sickness rises.
Dimitar’s smile doesn’t waver. He’d be handsome in his perfectly tailored suit if he wasn’t such a living horror in my world. Pure psychopath through and through. His magician’s token is a powerful Transformation Thread rumored to be from the Councilor’s heir during the Revolution. But Jinx and I always believed the rumors were wrong. The massive tiger he transforms into is a powerful beast, more demon than creature. And that’s just what I can sense from him. I’ve never seen his other form in person, but whispers come to me.
Dimitar, the Amur Tiger.
Lucas grabs my bicep in a bruising grip and he attempts to drag me back towards the door, but I throw him off viciously. Eyes burning, I screech, “WHERE IS SHE!”
Dimitar stares unwaveringly at me, his smile still in place. “Such a temper.”
Lucas grips me again, but instead of pulling back, he steps up beside me. His expression is dark and body tenses.
The Amur’s eyes glint. The books go still and silent. “Ah, my dear friend. So glad to see you on your feet.” Yellow eyes scan the magician. “And no lingering side effects, I hope?”
Lucas’ lip curls, pouring his hatred into his glare. He was never good at hiding his emotions, especially when it comes to Dimitar. How Dimitar figured out Lucas was injured is beyond me. I’ll have to solve it later, when I’m not on the verge of letting my Entropy devour me just so I can take Dimitar with me in a frenzied ball of black fire.
And what a tempting fantasy that is. Cold power stings my fingertips, begging to be unleashed.
Dimitar’s gaze flicks to Lucas’ neck and the lavish inhale he takes through his nose is for show. My skin prickles. His pleasant tone feeds my growing unease. “You were finally thrown a bone like the loyal, starved dog you are. How precious.” He eyes where Valen stands in the shadowy entryway. “And yet there’s a complication. Nice to see you again, Valentin.”
