Page 163 of Bound By Fury

“Jesus Christ, don’t these things ever end?” I cry.

We keep running.

A different set of footsteps trails uncomfortably close.

“Your magic!” Kai finally gasps.

My magic? “I’m a little busy running for my life right now,” I cry, head so dizzy, I’m swerving like I’m drunk.

“You have to do something,” he shouts, “there’s no point in trying to be stealthy now!”

I let him drag me, willing my legs to keep going even as I use my mind to dig into the depths of my power and yank the magic out, flinging it behind us.

The crackle of static and a bright white light.

“Shit!” someone screams, like they’ve been burnt.

This close, Malachi’s physical reaction to the use of my power is startling. His whole body clenches, his grip tightens, his hand warms in mine. “Again,” he orders.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I release blast after blast until it seems like we’ve circled back around to where we began.

“This way,” Malachi says, slamming through a door.

Stairs, levels and levels of them.

“I can’t!” I whine. “I can’t do it.”

My legs shake beneath me. I’m exhausted, my magic is waning, my mind is spinning, I feel like I’m going to throw up, and I have a stitch in my side.

I’m barely putting one leg in front of the other when suddenly the world is upside down.

“What the hell?!” I yell, my face slamming against Malachi’s back as he takes off with me over his shoulder. “This is not a normal thing to do to a person!” I wrap my arms around his torso.

“Not sure what your barometer is for normal,” he grunts, “but I’d change it if I were you.”

I hold on to him with one arm as he climbs and climbs, tears streaming down my face the whole way. The pain shooting down my spine, the aching in my legs, and the stabbing in my head nearly enough to turn my vision into a vignette.

I peer into the void of the stairwell below us, one palm itching with magic and the other snaking into my pocket and wrapping around the hilt of a black dagger.

We’re already at the top of the stairs when I realize they’ve stopped following us.

Malachi doesn’t so much set me down as he just kinda throws me back onto my feet before he grabs my hand again and we’re crashing through another door.

Reality slams into me as we sprint down the hallway of the chapel.

When the light of the nave comes into view, Malachi skids to a halt.

My jelly legs give out the second I stop moving.

“Did you really think you were going to escape on foot?” Alastair asks from the yawning mouth of the hall. He sounds almost amused by us.

Peeking at him from between Malachi’s legs, I see that the color-dappled light from the stained-glass windows has backlit him so that it looks like he’s all shadow in the shape of a man.

Or maybe he really is just all shadow in the shape of a man.

Malachi inches to the left.