Page 110

Is that what he meant? Take his magic?

NOW, MATE.

Ugh, “mate.”

EST AMAGE. TAKE IT.

“Stop yelling at me,” I moan, staggering away from the stairs and toward a carved wooden door ahead of me. I’ve only taken two steps when the blood seeping from my calf wound begins to bubble and boil against my skin.

I cry out from the fresh new pain.

Now why would my wound do that…?

The spell must’ve been a curse. A really shitty one.

I stumble the last few feet to the door and awkwardly grab the knob, nearly dropping the limp girl in my arms. I just manage to twist it open, and then me and the shifter fall through it. I barely have time to twist my body so I’m the one who hits the wet earth and not the girl.

We’re outside.

I let out an exhausted huff. That feels like a win all on its own.

I smell the forest around us, and when I look back toward the open doorway, I see the door itself has been carved into the trunk of a tree, though the interior of the tree appears to be far larger than its exterior.

Magic, man…

I still hear the distant sounds of witches fighting and screaming inside, but I doubt thelamassuwill hold them all off for much longer.

I try to get up, but my entire body is protesting. I whimper at my various wounds. My magic and my adrenaline are wearing away. I don’t know how much more I have in me.

By the love of all our gods, little witch, Memnon says,please—I ambeggingyou—take what I am offering!

What you’re offering?I feel it then, through that magical river that seems to flow right to my heart.

Power. Endlesspower. More than anyone has any business handling.

I don’t understand how he’s siphoning it to me, and I don’t bother to consider the repercussions of using this sorcerer’s magic. I reach for it.

I gasp as it pours into me. The pain from my various injuries grows dull, and my fatigue vanishes entirely.

I rise to my feet, picking up the unconscious girl once more.

And then I run.

Need to get to shifter territory.That’s all I can think as I sprint.

I sense the boundary line ahead of me, but it feels like it might as well be in a different country.

I stumble over roots, and twigs and rocks cut into the soft pads of my feet. I clench my teeth against the sensation of blood dripping down my calf.

Later. I’ll deal with it all later.

I can’t hear the witches behind me anymore, and I’m starting to gain confidence when the girl in my arms begins to gag.

I don’t want to stop running, not when bloodthirsty witches who practice the dark arts want to enslave this girl’s will to another.

But I also don’t want her to choke on her own vomit.

I stop and let her down. She’s not even conscious. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I lay her on her side, focusing my attention on her.