Binding the Shadows
Page 67

Something solidified between us. The Heka was creating a bridge. For several moments, I felt intimately bonded to her . . . not in a sexual way, but that was the closest comparison I could fathom. I suddenly knew more about her than I could learn about her from years of conversation. It was overwhelming. I briefly wondered if this is how Lon felt using his knack. Did he see inside people this way?
And if he could see Yvonne like I was seeing her right at that moment, I wondered if he would do what I was going to do, or if he would pull the plug and stop right there.
Because buried within her cells, I saw her demonic soul. And the stitching that secured it to her body was drenched in a deep, impenetrable sadness.
My eyes welled with tears. It was so overwhelming, I almost pulled back.
But, just out of reach, I suddenly felt the buried magick. The transmutation spell. It was a living, breathing thing, attached to her like a parasite. And its function was like a spiritual dam between her soul and body. A switch that opened and closed, letting the demon soul expand at will.
And I could almost taste the magic that gave it life.
I had no time to flounder or doubt myself. I heard things in the distance. Things watching and approaching. Maybe I was paranoid, thinking of what Priya had told me. But I didn’t want to find out. I just wanted to get the hell of there.
Using all my willpower, I poured kindled Heka into that magical dam inside Yvonne, and I ripped it out by the roots.
She screamed like I’d struck her.
My eyes snapped open. I snatched my hand up and regarded a soft pink glow grasped within my fingers. My mind homed in on the memories of the pink magick I’d seen months ago, inside the cannery, where giant magical cockroaches spilled out of Jesse Bishop’s bones. And then in the putt-putt golf course, where the earthquake spell decimated an impossible stretch of land and nearly pulled me underground.
Æthyric magic is pink. Or, at least the magic used by archdemon Duke Chora.
The transmutation spell wasn’t an earthly spell.
Terrified, I flung the pink glow from my hand. It exploded like the head of a dandelion, pink splinters floating away, then disappearing into shadows. And it wasn’t the only thing disappearing: Yvonne’s horns withdrew into her head as her halo went crazy: green and gold flashed intermittently, like a stoplight on the fritz. She flailed. Kicked. Cussed.
The gold sizzled like a campfire being doused. Nothing remained but a soft, dull green nimbus. I’d done it!
Then her hands flew to my throat, cutting off my oxygen.
Damn! She was stronger than she looked. I gripped her forearms and tried to force her back, but her muscles were stone. Pain ringed my neck. My larynx felt like it was close to exploding. A horrible tingling sensation spread down my arms. She scissored her legs around me and pushed. Before I knew it, I was on my back and she was choking the fucking life out me.
Instead of panicking—and I probably should’ve been panicking at this point—I became incensed.
It happened instinctually, just like in Hajo’s parking garage. My tail lashed out like a whip and wrapped around her chest. I felt the material of her dress beneath it. Felt the bouncy give in her ribs as I constricted around them. I could tell the breaking point was coming soon. But it wasn’t enough. I was blind with fury.
I wanted to obliterate her.
My halo expanded and whooshed around her head like clouds covering a mountain peak. Silver fog. I couldn’t see her face anymore, but I felt my halo seeping into her mind. It wasn’t the slow, exploratory push I’d used when seeking the transmutation spell inside her. It was a brutal invasion.
And I wasn’t controlling it.
Screaming her lungs out, she let go of my throat, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Something else was the puppet master. I felt another presence, foreign and distinct and strong. Panic budded beneath all the rage and I tried to pull back, but I was both weak and out of control at the same time.
Blinding light spilled over her back and beamed through my silver fog. I dimly heard a metallic squeal and felt something coming toward us, but I didn’t realize what was happening until an explosion filled my head.
Not an explosion, but a voice. And the voice bellowed, “Cady!”
My Moonchild magick fell away like an avalanche. The silver vision fizzled into shadow and sounds plumped up to normal volumes. Everything became solid and real again. And Yvonne was ripped from me, green halo trailing.
But I barely noticed. I was too busy looking at my skin. Tiny, smooth ridges stretched over my chest, between my breasts. What the hell? This was the coolness that I’d felt in the elevator with the guy from Hajo’s place.
As I yanked down my top, trying to get a better look at it, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement that distracted me to the point of madness.
My tail retracting.
Ringed in alternating black and white stripes, it was covered in tiny, glossy scales so lustrous, they almost looked wet. I reached out and managed to grab the last few inches of it. The magick was pulling it back inside me, much like Lon’s horns withdrawing when he shifted down. But I touched it, just for a moment, as it slid through my fingers. I expected it to feel slimy, but it didn’t. It was smooth and silky, and it tapered off into a rounded point. Like a snake.
Just like a snake.
Shouting diverted my attention. “Yvonne!”
Lon’s voice.
He was crouched over her body. She was convulsing.
What the hell had I done?
Rose rode in the ambulance with Yvonne. Lon and I followed in his SUV with Adella. The Holidays stayed behind with Jupe. The hospital was a ten-minute drive. But even though Lon was driving up the ambulance’s ass, it still felt like ten hours. When he asked, I gave him a barebones account of what happened. He made no comment.