Sapphire Flames Page 40

He could speak. He understood words.

“Hush, Lawrence,” Jocelyn told him. “You have your orders.”

“Fuck it. Kill, eat, go.”

Lawrence, a man of simple pleasures.

“You take orders from her?” Alessandro asked Lawrence. “She’s old and weak.”

Lawrence refocused on Alessandro, the swarm around him shifting in his direction.

“Hey, Lawrence, how about this? Kill her and we’ll go out for drinks. We will even find some roadkill for your friends.”

“Lawrence!” Jocelyn snapped.

“Yes, Lawrence,” Alessandro taunted. “Be a good boy and listen to Mommy.”

Lawrence opened his mouth. “Fuck you, shithead.”

“Such eloquence,” Alessandro noted. “Poetry in the flesh. No wonder she has you on a leash.”

Lawrence hissed at him.

“He’s all talk, but you got nothing to say?” Jocelyn mocked me. “Hey, pretty boy, your girlfriend weighed the odds, and she doesn’t like them. I can see it in her face. You understand, don’t you, little girl? There is nothing either of you can do, except die.”

“Switch,” Alessandro said, the single word cracking like a whip.

A new, longer flamethrower popped into his hands, white letters on the side spelling out “Property of the Houston Fire Department.” A twenty-foot jet of flame tore into the swarm and died. The scorpion ticks shied from the flame and heat, opening a gap.

I dropped my magic, spun to my left, and ran into the hole in the mass of insects. Behind me, the flamethrower roared, spitting fire at Jocelyn.

Hadn’t weighed those odds, had you?

The swarm surged to me, but it was too late. I charged through them, arms crossed to shield my face, knocking the small bodies out of the way. It was like trying to fight my way through a ball of barbed wire. Lawrence loomed in front of me, his eyes surprised and burning with fury. He bared his teeth at me, all three rows of them. I threw myself at him, hugging his neck, so we were face-to-face, and exhaled two words and all of my magic. “Love me.”

The surprise vanished from his eyes. His expression went slack, his features relaxing. “Hi,” he said.

He was mine.

I let go of him, stroked his jaw with my fingertips, and told him, soft like I would tell a lover, “Jump for me.”

He spun around and threw himself over the edge. The swarm followed the falling man. He crashed onto the pavement of the parking lot and lay still. The swarm spun about him and folded in on itself, blanketing him, a shining blanket of green mottled with red and yellow . . . I had seen this before, in a documentary on piranhas. They were devouring him.

I turned. Alessandro sat on the edge of the roof. Jocelyn slumped next to him, whispering, her eyes wild.

I ran up to them. His magic would wear off in about a minute. I had to hurry.

“It’s gone,” Jocelyn babbled. “My magic is gone.”

“She’s all yours,” Alessandro said.

I crouched by the older woman and swiped away the blood that was leaking into my eyes from a gash on my head. “Jocelyn,” I sang out. The world turned dim for a second. The last reserves of my magic emptied. If I took any more, I would pass out.

Her eyes widened. She stared at me.

“Where is Halle Etterson?” I asked her, keeping my voice gentle.

She strained, trying to fight me. Her will was strong, but mine was stronger.

“Magdalene has her.”

“Who is Magdalene?”

She shut her eyes tight.

“Don’t you want to tell me?”

She nodded like a child.

“It would make me so happy if you told me.”

Tears glistened in her eyes and slid over her cheeks. “I can’t. I’m trying, I’m really trying.”

“What’s her last name?”

Jocelyn bit into her lower lip. Blood ran down her chin. She would tell me if she could. Someone had hexed her. A mental mage, probably a Significant or a Prime, had placed a powerful compulsion in her mind that prevented her from speaking about Magdalene. Getting around the hex would take time and preparation and we didn’t have either. She wanted to tell me, she was desperate to tell me, but if I pushed any harder, her mind would break, and we would be left with nothing.

I switched gears. “Who killed Sigourney?”

She opened her eyes, relieved. “I don’t know. It went through Benedict.”

“Why was she killed?”

“She was supposed to do a job, but the dumb bitch backed away. You don’t ever do that.”

“Who was the target?” I asked.

“Linus Duncan.”

The name landed like a brick. Linus Duncan, former Speaker of the House Assembly, which had made him the most powerful man in Texas. Crossing him was fatal. He had also witnessed the formation of House Baylor. His name was written into the Book of Records next to my sister’s request for our family to be recognized as a House.

Rage sparked in Jocelyn’s eyes. Her magic stabbed me. Raw, primal fear burst inside me and exploded into panic. My vision blurred at the edges. A sharp metal taste coated my tongue. Every instinct I had screamed. I had to run away. I had to run away now or terrible things would happen. I scrambled back, away from her, trying to get to my feet. The fear whipped me into a frenzy. I had to run as fast as I could . . .

Alessandro grasped Jocelyn’s head and twisted. There was a dry crunch. Jocelyn’s head lolled to the side, her eyes blank.

Alessandro got up, stepped over her and held out his hand. His amber eyes were so warm and kind. “Catalina, come here.”

No! Danger! Go, go, run fast!

But it was Alessandro. I swayed, not knowing what to do. My whole body shook. The world was dancing, and its leaping made me dizzy.

“It’s okay.” Alessandro smiled, his voice so soothing. “Hold still. I’ll come to you.”

He moved toward me slowly, smiling and holding his hand out.

The last shreds of panic melted. The jittery blur in my peripheral vision dissipated. A long drop down to the parking lot yawned in front of me. I was standing on the edge of the building, balancing on my toes. I froze.

“Take my hand,” Alessandro said. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”

I reached out. His hand gripped mine, his strong dry fingers hot on my skin. He pulled me back from the edge and hugged me to him. “I have you. It’s over. It’s over, angelo mio.”

The heat of his body shocked me. I was still shaking, so I wrapped my arms around him. He was pure muscle, hard and strong, and when he hugged me to him, the world slowed and stopped spinning, steadying with Alessandro as its axis. I shut my eyes. He was murmuring things to me, comforting, soothing things, his arms shielding me, his hand stroking my back, and I wrapped myself in his strength.

I would deal with what it meant later. I’d rationalize and dissect it and berate myself for being stupid, but right now I just needed him to hold me, and he did.

Gradually the world stopped doing a jig. My shaking muscles relaxed.

The dry crack of a gunshot popped to the right, close.

“Did you just shoot something?” I asked him.

“One of the bugs was eating Jocelyn’s face. Don’t look.”

He pulled me tighter to him, turning slightly to block my view. He would kill anything that came within his striking distance. Standing like this, with him holding me was the safest I had ever felt in the last three years. Something uncurled in me, happy and warm, and whispered that this was the perfect place for me to be.

I had to let go. I couldn’t just stand here on the roof for the whole night. The warehouse had probably been attacked, and we needed to go back and help.

I had to let go.

I had to.

Breaking away from him actually hurt.

I took a slow, deliberate step back. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” He was looking at me, his eyes concerned and warm. I looked away. If I didn’t walk away now, I would kiss him and I wouldn’t stop.

“I’m good,” I said again. I stepped around him and went to Jocelyn’s body.

She had nothing on her. No weapon, no identification, no wallet. Not even a tissue in her pocket. I checked her suit, and her jacket had no tags. I didn’t expect to find anything useful, but cutting all the tags off really took it to the next level.

We found Lawrence on the ground where he fell. His swarm, once terrifying, now lay around him, dying slowly on the grass and asphalt. They’d stripped his carcass of every shred of flesh, and only his skeleton remained, wrapped in his tattered coat. If we could identify Lawrence, we might be able to walk the trail back to his creator. We bundled the inhuman bones into what was left of the cloth and Alessandro carried it to Runa’s car, cursing the whole way.

I had no idea Italian had that many swearwords.

Chapter 11

Lawrence’s bones stank. Once, I had stupidly smelled muriatic acid in a high school lab. It felt like inhaling razor blades, and the experience taught me to never stick my nose into a test tube. The skeleton reeked just like that, except worse. I had an absurd feeling that if I breathed through my mouth, it would cut my throat and I’d choke on my own blood.

Alessandro was carrying the bundle of Lawrence at arm’s length. I had to hurry up before one of us started retching.

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