Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1) (27 page)

Alyssa grabs my hand, and spins me around to face the balcony across from ours. Nick’s prediction was right; Selene has returned, with what looks like hundreds of spellcasters at her command. Under my breath, I ask, “Is that the entire clan?” Alyssa nods, her lips still pressed tightly together. “Okay,” I say more loudly, “so what’s our plan?”

“Take out Selene,” Krystal says from behind me. “Cut off the head and the body dies.”

“And how are we supposed to get past her army?”

“That’s already taken care of.” I turn to look at Krystal; what could she possibly mean? She just smiles, and snaps her fingers. One moment, it’s just the four of us standing on the balcony, and the next, we’re surrounded by at least thirty werewolves, various species of werecat, a few werebears, and a creature that looks like an angry squirrel the size of a bobcat. Over the sounds of their growls, Krystal says, “I had Landon make a few calls before he transformed. They’ll handle the grunts while we fight our way to Selene.”

I nod, and turn back to face Selene’s side of the room. They’ve started rushing down the stairs towards us, and several dozen members of our own miniature army are leaping straight down towards the incoming enemy. I almost hop off the balcony along with them before someone grabs the back of my shirt, and holds me back. I don’t want to be stuck watching when I could be helping out, though, so I teleport myself directly into the middle of the fray, and immediately have to duck to avoid the claws of a werelion that missed his target. I’m not sure, but I think I can see a few strands of my hair hooked on his claws.

Most of the Penumbra warriors look surprised to see me, and seem even more surprised when I manage to knock them to the ground, or incapacitate them with just a few quick punches. The majority of them have no idea how to fight with their bare hands, so it’s a while before any of them manages to land a hit on me. I give the unlucky owner of the leg that struck me a moment to gloat, before grabbing the back of his head in both my hands, and pulling it down to meet my rising knee. He slumps to the ground, and I move on to the next person in my way.

It takes a full minute for me to realize that Selene isn’t actually among the spellcasters on the ground floor. When there’s a minor break in the action, I glance around, finding her standing on the balcony, watching the fight intently. Since she seems to have no intention of coming down, I’ll just have to climb up to her. It seems she’s a step ahead of me, because the moment I start heading for the stairs, a wall of flame springs up from the ground in front of them. I’m guessing she’s already put up a spell preventing anyone from teleporting straight to her side, since Krystal and Alyssa haven’t done so yet. It looks like the only option left to me is climbing the hard way.

I knock out a few more spellcasters, before breaking away from the chaotic fight in the center of the room, looking for someone who can help me out. A werewolf with reddish-orange fur stands close to the ticket booths just under the balcony I need to reach, claws dripping with the blood of whoever is laying at her feet. I dash towards her, while shouting, “Give me a boost!,” and pray she’s lucid enough to know what I mean. Evidently, she does understand, because I leap towards her, her clawed hand catches the undersides of my Converse, and she launches me skyward. There’s a feeling of being suspended in midair for a split second, and then I land on my hands and feet a mere three yards from where Selene stands.

We stare each other down, each assessing the other, neither of us daring to move. I can’t imagine what’s holding her back, or even why I’m hesitating, but after a moment, it hits me; I don’t know why I’m here. This isn’t my fight. Krystal and Selene are the ones with history, it’s Krystal that should be standing where I am. Then I remember what Selene had done to Rachel and her family, and hatred floods my veins, even stronger than before. Krystal may have more of a right to this moment, but I have my own score to settle with this woman. I push myself up onto my feet, and launch myself at her, my shoes squeaking against the polished marble floor as I run.

Unlike the rest of Penumbra, Selene appears to be a skilled hand-to-hand fighter, more so than me. Each of my punches is either deflected or dodged, and the one time I land a kick, she grabs my leg before I can pull it away, and flips me onto my back. I try not to let myself get aggravated; she’s clearly toying with me, and judging by the amused look on her face, she’s enjoying it.

I push myself up into a defensive position, but she’s already stepped in under my guard, has her hands around my throat. She’s skilled, but not very strong, so I manage to pull myself from her frail grip, and push her from me, before taking a high kick to the face. I stumble backwards, and decide I’m fed up with fighting this way when it’s clearly not getting me anywhere. I gather up a massive amount of energy from my reserves, and release it from my palms in one huge torrent of power.

Selene looks shocked, but responds with a stream of her own energy, and when her crimson stream collides with my blue one, there’s a loud, persisting crack, like the sound of solid rock being split down the middle. She takes a few steps back, and tries to overpower my spell, but this time, it’s me that’s holding back simply to humiliate her. I push a little harder, and Selene struggles to push back with all her might. The force of our spells combined is enough to shatter every window around us, and those around the entire main concourse, resulting in at least half of the surfaces being covered in a fine layer of glinting shards. Not even the neon Apple logo above us is spared, and the remnants rain down upon us as we struggle for dominance. Selene evidently determines that trying to outlast me isn’t worth the effort, and she teleports out of harm’s way just before I prepare to finish her off. As a result, my stream of energy hits the wall in front of me, punching a massive hole through layers of brick and concrete.

Before I can relocate Selene, a searing pain hits me out of nowhere, all along my left arm. Right before my eyes, all the tiny shards of glass from the beer bottle that I slid on are being extracted from my arm, and are flying across the room to become part of the growing pile of glass where Selene is standing. With a sweep of her arm, the entire pile rises into the air, and starts to arrange into a long, thin structure. In seconds, Selene’s created a huge, glittering serpent out of the broken glass in the room, and has sent it flying right towards me.

I don’t stop to think, I just hop over the edge of the balcony before Selene’s creation can close its jaws around me. I land on top of the ticket booth a few feet below, and then clamber down the rest of the way to the ground. It doesn’t take long for the serpent to catch up to me, and I have to dash straight through the battlefield in order to evade it. As I run, I do my best to sidestep the bodies of spellcasters and weres alike, and occasionally dart between two fighters as they clash. I notice with a hint of pride that the members of Penumbra don’t really know how to handle fighting weres, and their numbers have thinned considerably.

I know I need to either break Selene’s concentration somehow, or stop the snake itself, but between dodging the fighters around me and evading the glass behemoth, I can’t think of how to do either. Somewhere in the distance, I hear almost constant gunfire, and I know that Krystal has her hands full as well, and that she can’t help me. But Alyssa steps back from the still form of the woman she just knocked unconscious, pushes me behind her, and holds Selene’s creation still in midair. The glass serpent thrashes, but it can’t move forward any further.

I turn to Alyssa to thank her for helping me, and notice that her irises are still red. Before I can even ask, Alyssa assures me, “I’m fine. I feel stronger than ever, actually. Now, go take her down.” We don’t have the time to argue, so I nod, and sprint towards the stairs.

Now that I know for a fact that my spells are stronger than Selene’s, I have no problem quelling the fire she’d set in front of the staircase, and climbing up to her the normal way. She’s expecting me, though, and launches several spells at me from her position near one of the broken windows. I consider putting a shield around myself, but decide against it, and rush straight at Selene. I duck and roll out of the way of her spells, and concentrate my own energy on bursting the pipes in the walls. Water comes gushing out of the walls in miniature geysers, but before it can hit the ground, I gather it all in one highly pressurized stream, and hurl it at Selene, who doesn’t realize what I’m doing until it’s too late. The water hits her from the side, knocks the wind out of her, and pushes her over the railing. I rush to see if she’s alright, and surprisingly, she’s climbing to her feet on the ground below. She must have slowed down her descent with a spell.

Alyssa and I must be more in sync than I realized; without even discussing it first, both Alyssa and I teleport to Selene’s side, and launch an attack. Despite the fact that she’s soaking wet and in pain, Selene can easily handle the both of us attacking at once. She darts out of the way of each of our attempts to strike her, and more than once, maneuvers us into accidentally hitting each other. She seems to get winded quickly, though, and blasts Alyssa onto her back before doing the same to me.

I try to get back on my feet, but without warning, my back erupts with a pain so intense that I can’t contain the accompanying scream. Alyssa calls my name, but I can’t respond. I writhe on the floor, my head in my hands, unable to escape the sensation that something is trying to force its way out from between my shoulder blades. My eyes are shut so tightly, that when I open them, the world seems to be composed of red and black specks of light. I bite my lip to keep from crying out again, taste the blood filling my mouth, resist the urge to spit it out. I’d been hoping this torture would be a one time thing, but my body apparently has other plans.

I slowly come to realize that Selene is standing over me, with her hands on her hips. “It’s a shame Krystal got to you first,” she says. “I actually kind of like you, kid. You were born for this.”

I open my mouth to respond, but not a sound escapes my throat, not even a scream. I content myself with glaring at her, thinking that even if I had been given the choice, I would have stayed with Krystal. She has her flaws, but she’s still my mentor. My friend.

Selene suddenly ducks to avoid a bright green jet of energy, then turns tail and runs. I’m confused until I see Krystal chasing her, both guns blazing. One shot catches Selene in the leg as she approaches the huge hole in the ground, and she stumbles, giving Krystal the time she needed to close the gap. They exchange a few blows, but Krystal proves to be the superior fighter, and subdues Selene in under a minute. Selene scrambles backward, tries to escape, but Krystal grabs her by the hair and drags her into a standing position. I can see lips moving, but with the noise from all the fighting going on around them, it’s hard to make out more than the odd word. Then Krystal holds her gun to Selene’s temple, and fires. There’s no wound, like with any of her other victims, but Selene slumps all the same. Instead of merely falling to the ground, Selene’s limp form continues falling, presumably all the way down to the heap of rubble at the very bottom of the hole Alyssa created.

I make an attempt to stand again, but the pain intensifies, and I lay curled in a ball on the polished marble floor. Hands reach for my neck, and I tense, but they’re only checking for a pulse. Somewhere, I think I hear people screaming; exclamations of both agony and victory reach my ears. The sounds gradually lower to a mere hum in the back of my mind, and as I fade from consciousness, I try to avoid wondering if the quiet, disjointed strains of lament and jubilation will be the soundtrack for my death.

Chapter 30

I can’t breathe. I can hardly move my arms and legs, and the world around me is nothing but black. It’s as if I’ve been buried prematurely, and the people I’ve left behind in the mortal realm didn’t even bother providing a coffin. I frantically scrape at my surroundings, finding that the dirt gives way easily at the touch of my fingertips. After a few minutes of digging my way to freedom, my head and upper body are exposed to fresh air, though my lungs appear to have no interest in functioning as lungs.

A hand reaches down to help me up, and I latch onto it, allowing its owner to pull me up onto my feet. My vision’s a little cloudy, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this person before in my life; he’s a few inches taller than me, with dark skin and dark hair, wearing a charcoal colored suit covering a red button down shirt. As if he can hear my thoughts, he says, “You’re not dying, kid. Not yet. There’s still a lot left for you to do.”

“Yeah? Like what?,” I ask as I rub my eyes. “And for that matter, who
are
you?”

In response, the man grins at me, and for just a split second, his face comes into focus. But he turns away before I can examine him very well, and everything around us is obscured by a blinding white light.

I blink a few times, and slowly realize that I must have been dreaming. I try to remember what the dream had been about, but most of it slips away as I try to recall. I can vaguely remember a man in a gray suit, but even that image disappears as my surroundings become clearer with every blink. I sit up, being extremely careful in case my back is still out of commission, and take a look around. I’m on Nick’s bed, his sheets thrown carelessly onto the blood red carpet. I must have kicked the sheets off of me in my sleep. Nick himself sits on a wooden chair by the door, and though his eyes are closed, I’m sure he’s still aware of his surroundings, ready to leap out of his seat and defend me if I come under attack.

I tiptoe over to Nick, and study his features silently. He seems to be fast asleep, rather than on alert as I’d assumed. He looks younger, less troubled, when he’s dead to the world. I lift his chin up slightly, and plant a soft kiss on his lips, which is enough to rouse him from his nap. His hands wrap around me, and he holds me closer when I try to stand up straight. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he whispers in my ear.