“You’ll die in chains,” Vanessa snarled. “We might too, but we’ll be chewing on them.”
“That would break your teeth,” I pointed out. “Points for determination, though.”
“Why did you choose her over me?” Vanessa waved her stump at us. “She’s nothing.”
The slur in her words told me RJ had taken pity on her and hit her with spell to numb her pain.
“I beg to differ.” Asa squeezed my hand. “She’s fast becoming my everything.”
A gagging noise brought my attention back to Clay, saving me from replying to Asa.
“Really?” I kicked his shin. “Now you’ve got an opinion?”
The door opened behind them, and a wiry man with a weathered face joined the group.
“Reinforcements are thirty minutes out,” he warned. “We need to wrap this up and go.”
Well, that was good news. I worried Melissa had killed them too. I was glad that wasn’t the case.
“This is your last chance.” Melissa turned her beseeching gaze on Clay. “Please, be reasonable.”
“I hate to end things like this,” he said, “but I’ve got a policy about not negotiating with psycho ex-girlfriends.”
“All right.” She flicked her wrist at Timothy. “You’ve made your choice.”
Timothy swept his arm down in an arc, aiming his wand at the nearest target. Clay blocked the strike, then punched Timothy under his chin. His head cracked back from the force, his spine broken, and he collapsed on the floor in a twitching heap.
On the edge of my vision, flame engulfed Asa, and his daemon form sprung at a screaming Vanessa.
“Rue mine!” he roared as he twisted her head off like a bottlecap then yelled at it. “Mine.”
Meanwhile, I palmed my face, embarrassed by his favorite battle cry. Seriously, we had to work on that.
Through my fingers, I spied RJ sliding along the wall, attempting to reach the table and the grimoire.
Colby was nearby. Not in the hall. In the vents? I could tell by the rush of power illuminating my skin and the bright-white sparks my wand shed onto the carpet. I never stuck to punishments with that kid, but so help me, this time I really was going to pull her internet for a week.
Keeping my face shielded, as if the gory scene was too much, I lured RJ into completing his suicide run.
Sure enough, he swooped in and brushed his fingers across the cover, attempting to find purchase.
I struck out, whacked his knuckles to do the director proud, and he dropped into a tidy pile of ash.
“Who are you?” Melissa’s mouth dropped open. “What are you?”
Allowing my hand to fall, I flashed her a feral smile, but we were out of time for games. We were making too much noise. Human authorities would be called to investigate soon, if they hadn’t already been, and I wasn’t in the mood for interdepartmental cooperation. We need to wrap up, clean up, and go.
The last man standing, the late arrival, skidded as he took in RJ’s remains, but momentum carried him to Clay, who lifted him and snapped his spine over his thigh. The crack reverberated throughout the room.
That left us with Melissa, who I really wanted to turn in to the director to earn brownie points.
Okay, fine, so he would torture her horribly, until she begged for a death he wouldn’t grant. Not much of a white witch thing to do, but it was the least she deserved after killing all those people to sink her claws into Colby. But, sadly, she would be thrilled to chat with the director to avoid said torture.
She would spill her guts about how I had stolen a grimoire from a case and kept it instead of following protocol by logging it into evidence. Then she would enlighten him as to the reason why. He knew Colby existed, and that was damning enough. He didn’t need to know more.
Clay must have come to the same conclusion. He charged Melissa, colliding with her, knocking her back, and pinned her against the door. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t kill her outright. Sentimentality? He really was a big softie. But his flash of conscience or regret, whatever was going through his head, it cost him.
Wheezing through the impact, she swiped out her arm and clawed his forehead, raking furrows in his shem.