I See You (Oracle 2) Page 22
I locked gazes with Beau. The idea that Blackwell had negotiated some sort of deal with Cy didn’t surprise me in the least. Cy had probably incapacitated the sorcerer with his stun gun, then locked him up somewhere. Even so, nothing would hold Blackwell at bay for long. I was also completely sure that the sorcerer didn’t keep deals with idiots.
Ettie grabbed a second baggie from the cardboard box, then crossed back to Cy with it and the first bag. “A deal with a sorcerer now? We’re already too exposed and —”
“Just take her blood,” Cy snapped. “Keep Beau here under the influence of the silver peace shit. I’ll hand her over to the sorcerer and he’ll walk away.”
Beau snorted. He still looked dazed, though not as much as before.
“One vial isn’t going to be enough,” Ettie said. “If we’re trying to create a product line —”
“One is all you goddamn get,” Cy snarled. “If you hadn’t dealt Byron in and taken blood from the werewolf, they might have all walked away.”
“They’re here to save me, actually,” Ettie said. “From you.”
Cy didn’t respond. I couldn’t see his face. But I could see Beau, whose eyes narrowed at whatever he was picking up from his stepdad.
Ettie looked dejected for a moment. Then she shook it off, turning to grab another syringe from the counter.
“Mind tricks,” Cy said to her back.
“Okay.” She didn’t look at her father.
A hole blew through the interior wall opposite the windows. Magic and concrete exploded everywhere. Heedless of the gun to my head, I dropped to the floor, seeing Beau do the same across from me.
Ettie was slammed forward against the steel counter.
Cy attempted to stand against the onslaught, but his gun was knocked from his hand by debris.
Then two sorcerers and a werewolf burst into the room. Kandy darted across the lab toward Ettie. Blackwell and the marshal came for Cy, who dove on the ground in an attempt to retrieve his gun.
Correction. Blackwell came for me.
The marshal flicked his magical handcuffs at Cy. The cuffs streaked through the air, coiling around Cy’s wrists and yanking him to the ground. But not before Cy got his hands on his gun and trained the weapon on Henry.
Beau straightened. Concrete dust crumbled off him as he yelled a warning to Kandy. “Watch out.”
Too late.
Ettie, who’d been slumped over the counter from the blast, pivoted as Kandy reached her. She grabbed a massive fistful of baggies in a single swipe, maybe a half-dozen or more. Then she smashed them all into the green-haired werewolf’s face.
Kandy grabbed Ettie by the neck, lifting her off her feet and shaking her. Somehow, even while being throttled, Ettie managed to pop some of the baggies open with the force of her attack.
“Put her down,” Cy yelled. He was still lying on the ground with his gun pointed at the marshal.
Then he shot Kandy in the back without further warning.
Henry kicked the weapon out of Cy’s still-cuffed hands. A split second too late.
Kandy arched back, dropping Ettie and stumbling away from the counter. Powdered red crystal coated her eyes, nose, and mouth. Even her neck and shoulders were dusted in crimson wolf — a drug made from her own magic and somehow bound with Ettie’s blood.
It was a massive overdose. Plus, the werewolf had just been shot in the back.
“No. No. No!” Beau held his arms out wide, as if to catch Kandy if she fell, though he was too far away to do so.
Ettie fell to her knees, coughing and holding her throat.
A monster ripped through Kandy’s skin. Literally.
I screamed, completely involuntarily. Even in my visions, I’d never seen anything so disturbingly horrific as the furred and clawed monster that emerged from Kandy’s body.
Blackwell shoved me behind him, yelling, “Marshal,” as he did so.
The monster, which I belatedly realized was some sort of uber-terrifying version of Kandy’s half-form, threw its head back and howled. Its long, disjointed snout scraped against the concrete ceiling, which was easily nine feet high. Its jaws were filled with jagged five-inch teeth.
The howl froze us all in place, like prey. It took every other sound with it, deafening everyone in the room.
Beau recovered first. He dashed forward, wrapping his arms around Kandy. He appeared to be attempting to talk her down. I wasn’t sure, because I still couldn’t hear anything.
Kandy tossed him off her like he weighed nothing. He tumbled back through the destroyed concrete wall and out of my sight. Then she went for Ettie, who threw her arms over her head and screamed.
Before Kandy could chomp Ettie’s head off with her massive, misaligned jaws, something snapped around her maw — the marshal’s handcuffs. But they had somehow widened to encompass the thickness of Kandy’s elongated snout.
She stumbled back, pawing at her face. She was gouging herself with her own claws, rivers of blood flowing down her jaw and throat.
“Stop her! Stop her!” someone was screaming.
Me.
I was the one screaming.
My hearing was back. Everything was still seriously muffled, but I could hear.
Still blocking me from advancing, Blackwell was murmuring something under his breath. Pools of darkness were forming in his hands.
The marshal circled Kandy. She utterly dwarfed him and everything else in the room, yet he was still attempting to get close to her.
Beau rose out of the rubble of the concrete wall behind the deranged werewolf. He had transformed into his own version of half-beast, half-human. He was about a foot and a half shorter than Kandy’s beast-form, and covered in short orange fur. His face was a hideous mix of beast and human, though his double fangs were longer than Kandy’s canines, and his jaw aligned properly.
Golden magic swirled around the bracelets Kandy still wore, which had grown to accommodate her new size. Then she snapped the marshal’s cuffs.
Henry looked absolutely dumbfounded. By his reaction, I surmised that his handcuffs were supposed to be unbreakable.
Dropping the cuffs at her feet, Kandy lowered her head in Henry’s direction. Her wolf ears pressed flat against her skull. Her fur held not even a hint of green.
“Her eyes are bleeding,” I called out. “Like Cy’s in my vision.”
“Henry,” Blackwell said warningly.
“Just tell me when.” Henry was still facing Kandy, holding his hands to the side in a nonthreatening gesture.
“Now.”
Henry sidestepped. Kandy swiveled her massive head to follow his movement.
Blackwell threw his spell. Blue-black orbs of magic flew across the room, hitting the uber-werewolf, then spiraling around her like thick ropes. She screamed in pain, the sound of which was slightly more human than before but still terrifying.
Again, heedless of how her five-inch claws tore into her, she shredded the magic like it was a cozy down blanket and she was wielding a wickedly sharp box cutter.
“It’s the cuffs,” I shouted. “Her cuffs are dragon magic.”
“Beau, Henry,” Blackwell barked. “We’re going to have to let the drug in her system burn off. Back out slowly. We’ll contain her in the building.”
Blackwell pivoted, grabbing my arm and hauling me out of the lab and through the doors into the empty room beyond.
“We can’t just leave,” I cried.
Kandy howled again.
I dug in my heels, looking back over my shoulder.
In the lab, Beau was grappling with Kandy again, drawing her attention away from the marshal as Henry darted forward to retrieve his fallen handcuffs.
“No!” I screamed.
Kandy threw Beau off her. Then at the exact moment the marshal’s side was exposed to her, she latched onto his torso and chomped down.
Cy had crawled over to Ettie and was attempting to drag her out of the lab while everyone was distracted by Kandy.
T
he rest of us stared in horror as the uber-werewolf lifted Henry in her jaws and shook him like a rat. Like she was a terrier trying to snap his neck.
Beau roared.
Every piece of glass in the lab that wasn’t already broken exploded.
I clapped my hands over my ears. Cy and Ettie stumbled, falling to the ground just behind us. Even Blackwell covered his ears and hunched against the challenge of an alpha predator.
Kandy froze.
Then she dropped Henry at her feet.
The uber-werewolf slowly pivoted to face off with Beau. She snapped her teeth in his direction, her snarls punctuated by bubbling blood at the edges of her jaw. She deliberately widened her stance, one massive clawed foot at a time. Then she spread her heavily muscled arms, ready to accept Beau’s challenge.
“We’re going to have to kill her,” Blackwell said.
He stepped forward.
I grabbed his arm. “What? No!”
He shook me off. “It’s Beau or her,” he snarled at me. “You pick, then.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief. “No,” I said again, looking over his shoulder to watch Beau and Kandy as they circled each other. The lab was barely large enough for them to stay just out of striking range. “She’s here to save him.”
“He’s too young,” the sorcerer said. “Inexperienced. Struggling to hold his form. She’s going to rip him apart.”
Kandy lunged, driving into Beau. Her scythe-like claws caught in his ribs.
Something cracked. Beau screamed.
I shouted to Blackwell, “Do it! Oh God, do it.”
The sorcerer pivoted away from me, already calling up his magic.
Then Cy jabbed him in the side of the neck with his stun gun.
Blackwell’s eyes rolled back in his head. His jaw stretched into a scream he couldn’t vocalize. He unleashed a half-formed spell against Cy, but then went down.
Cy followed him to the floor, hitting the sorcerer with the stun gun a second time even as Blackwell’s dark blue magic snaked around Cy’s body, attempting to subdue him.
That left Ettie and I as the only ones watching through the open door into the lab while Kandy beat the life out of Beau.
Jumbo handcuffs appeared around Kandy’s furry ankles, attempting to snap into place. The marshal had apparently managed to fix them enough to trip the werewolf, though they still appeared to be broken.
Kandy stumbled, dropping Beau. He had reverted to his human form at some point.
I couldn’t tell if he was still alive or not as he hit the concrete floor. He didn’t move.
Kandy went down on her knees, turning her bleeding, blazing green eyes on the marshal. Henry had managed to prop himself up against the fallen table in order to throw his cuffs at her one last time.
Still on her knees, Kandy swiped at the sorcerer, but he flattened himself on the ground and she caught the edge of the table instead. The table spun, crashing against the counter and flipping back to slide to a stop in the center of the room.
As Henry tried to scramble away from her, Kandy opened her massive, toothy jaw to rip his head off.
Then instead of decapitating the marshal, the werewolf faltered. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She transformed into her human visage as she collapsed, slumping across Henry’s legs as he, too, fell to the ground.
“About time,” Ettie said. She marched back into the lab.
“What, are you crazy?” I shouted after her.
Then Cy hit me with the stun gun. Apparently, he’d managed to shake off enough of Blackwell’s spell to move.
I lost control of my mind and body. I fell on one knee.
Cy grunted, shook the stun gun, and jabbed it against my chest again.
Nothing happened.
The gun must have misfired.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t even call up my magic.
But I could see. I could see Beau.
He was so far away. Across the room, through the door, and crumpled against the far wall. Crumpled in the broken concrete and glass … there … without me.
I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want him to die alone.
I forced my shaking left arm to obey me.
I reached inside my satchel.
I sprang up onto my feet.
Cy hit me with the stun gun again.
It worked this time, shooting electricity into every limb and scrambling my brain. But not before I jabbed my tactical pen into the side of Cy’s neck with every last ounce of strength I could muster.
Then I fell.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I became aware of sounds first … glass crunching underneath footfalls … murmured voices. I tried to open my eyes, only to realize they were already open but hadn’t come into focus yet.
I heard something electric buzz. Then a pained grunt.
I tried to turn my head. My neck muscles obeyed me, but only for about an inch. It was enough to see Ettie, who had her back to me and was currently standing over Blackwell with Cy’s stun gun. Evidently, she had just stunned the sorcerer again.
More glass crunched, then someone muttered.
“Dad,” Ettie said. “Get those handcuff things. Dad. Are you even listening?”
“We’re going to have to kill them all,” Cy said from beyond my sight line, somewhere below my feet. He sounded as if he was struggling to get up off the ground. Hopefully from my tactical pen strike. Maybe some blood loss would be good for the asshole. Cleansing.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ettie said. “What makes sense is to contain them until Byron gets here with his men. Lock them all up, quell their magic with the silver peace, and harvest their blood continually. We have more than enough space even if we lease out the first floor. And we’ll be obscenely rich.”
Wow. That didn’t sound at all insane. Or sociopathic, specifically.
Cy stepped into my line of sight to stare down at Ettie, who appeared to be digging around in Blackwell’s suit pockets but not finding anything. He lifted one of the crimson baggies to his face and snorted directly out of it. He still had the pen sticking out of his neck.
Ettie grimaced. “Jesus, Dad.”
Cy started trembling. Maybe even seizing. The whites of his eyes flickered through his stubby, red-rimmed eyelashes in a pained grimace that might actually have been ecstatic. He was enjoying the jolt.
Ettie shook her head. She moved on to checking Blackwell’s pants pockets but still found nothing.
I should ask Blackwell to magic up my satchel like his suit pockets. I was guessing Ettie was going to search me next, and I really, really didn’t want her touching my sketchbook. Though we’d have to make it out of here alive if that was going to matter. And ‘magic up’ wasn’t the correct term. My brain was still as scrambled as my limbs.
The far seer had indicated we’d survive. But he also might not have bothered mentioning the ‘possible imprisonment and slowly being drained of our magic’ part of that so-called survival.
“Ettie,” Cy gasped as he got himself under control again. “Ettie.”
“What?” she snapped.
My eyesight cleared further. My hands were tingling with increasing amounts of pain. Ettie’s eyes were red-rimmed like they’d been in the vision. She must have gotten a snootful when she’d hit Kandy with all the newly cooked crimson wolf.
That would explain her jerky movements. And even her bravado. Though that might just have been utter stupidity.
“We can’t contain this,” Cy said. “Too many Adepts involved —”
“Dad, this is just a bonus,” Ettie interrupted. “Think of how many strains we could produce now. I don’t know what sorcerer blood will be good for, but —”
“No, Ettie!”
She reeled back from Cy’s vehemence, more shocked and pissed off than angry.
“They’ll hunt us,” he said. “They’re probably hunting us now.”
“Who?” Ettie sneered. “Over these nobodies?”
“The pack … the sorcerers … the witches.” Cy took another snort of the crimson baggie. It was almost empty. He rubbed the inside of the bag around on his gums, then dropped it on the ground.
“That’s enough for now —” Ettie started to chastise her father.
He backhanded her across the face.
She fell sideways, down on one hand and pressing her cheek with the other. She met my gaze. Anger and mortification flooded her face.
“Go collect what you have,” Cy continued, as if he hadn’t just assaulted his daughter. Maybe he considered that a love tap. “I’ll finish these five off, soon as I get me more strength. Then we’ll torch the place.”
He pulled the second baggie out of his pocket.
“You’re going to die now, Ettie,” I said.
The statement came out as more of a threat than the warning I’d intended. But then, I didn’t have total control of my mind or mouth yet.
“What are you going to do, Rochelle?” Ettie taunted as she picked herself up off the ground and brushed off her white sundress. A fierce crimson blemish — the result of Cy’s slap — stained her left cheek. “You have no offensive power … I’ve already seen what you had to show me. Nothing.”
“I see you,” I whispered.
“So what?” she spat. “I don’t give a shit about what you see. Hell, I’ll harvest your blood and surround myself with seers. See if I give a shit about the future ever again.”
“I don’t see a future for you at all,” I said. “I never did. I just thought I could stop it. I thought I could save you from fate. But magic wants what it wills.”
“Oh, yeah?” She laughed. “Time for me to die? And who’s the instrument of my death now?” She straightened, flicking her hand to encompass the devastation in the room and all the fallen would-be heroes. “You?” She snorted. “I’ve got everything here under control.”
She walked away from me, crossing back into her destroyed lab and closing the door behind her with a flick of her foot.
Why close the door? I scrunched my eyes, desperately trying to remember what was about to happen, desperately trying to regain control of my limbs.
Blood. Ettie wanted more blood. She wasn’t going to follow her father’s directives.