Page 35

Chapter 35

The Right to Magic

W e emerge in the lounge to rejoin the fight in numb shock. It’s like someone took a wrecking ball to the place. Natalie pushes aside heaps of rubble littering the ground where booths and the bar once stood. We stumble through, smoke and dust burning my eyes and throat. Ahead, the fireplace and stone chimney lie in ruins, a smoldering pile that sends plumes of dark smoke curling toward the ceiling.

Resounding cracks and shouts assault my ears. In the haze, more Alchemists have arrived to help, their green robes billowing in cross-winds as magic flies to and fro. My heart lifts a little as our defenses form a wall between us and the Madsens, stopping them from reaching the corridors.

But as we join them, it’s clear the Madsens are a terrifying force. Oaklyn is ruthless with her dagger, and witches yell in pain as roots slash hard enough to draw blood and knock them off their feet. Sophia blocks every brick and hunk of metal thrown her way. She fights like she’s spent her whole life planning and visualizing each attack, preparing for the moment she could do magic. She shows no hesitation as she aims to kill .

Freddie, meanwhile, hangs back, scanning the blocked corridors with a calculating look. He’s searching for something—and I know exactly what. The barrier to the Alchemy wing is weak, gaps visible in the pile of rubble and furniture.

“Reinforce the Alchemy wing!” I yell, pointing to it.

Millie is closest, and she’s the only one to spin around. She follows my gaze. “On it!”

Wow, someone listened.

I sprint toward it, and she and Sebastian peel away to help.

Freddie breaks into a run too, his roar cutting through the din. “Get ’em!”

Ice shoots through my veins as Wyatt charges, a flash of fur and fangs. In two swift strides, he latches onto Sebastian’s arm, shaking it like a rag doll. Sebastian’s agonized scream pierces the air as he falls to his knees, a spray of blood hitting the floor.

“No!” Millie raises a hand to retaliate, but Freddie is on her in an instant, wrapping an arm around her neck in a chokehold. Millie claws at him, her face turning red as she struggles to breathe.

Without pausing to think, I grab a toppled chair and raise it over my head. “Let go of her!”

I slam it into the back of Freddie’s legs with all my strength. He shrieks and crumples to the ground, his grip on Millie loosening.

Millie rolls away, gasping, and swipes a hand to send a fragment of stone toward her attacker’s head. But Wyatt is there, leaping into the air to bat the stone away before it can strike his handler.

Sebastian roars in pain where the dog left him, cradling his bloody arm.

Freddie staggers to his feet, his face twisted in fury. He lunges at me, but I’m ready. I wind back and punch him in the stomach with every ounce of strength I have, the gauntlet glinting in the dim light .

He—goes— flying .

He soars the length of a car and slams into the wall beside the Alchemy wing with a sickening crunch. As he hits the ground, he sucks in a rattling breath, his body wracked with coughs.

Sebastian and Millie stare at me, frozen, their eyes wide with shock.

I look down at the gauntlet—the innocent-looking fig leaf wrapped around the back of my hand. “Holy shit!” A wild, giddy sensation overcomes me, and I point to Freddie. “You’ve just been served the Katie Alexander special, fucker! One knuckle sandwich with a side of—”

Something dark whips past us, and a tangle of roots bursts through the Alchemy barricade like a cannon, opening a hole big enough for a person to slip through.

“Thanks, sis,” Freddie croaks, stumbling to his feet and darting through the opening. He’s unsteady, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but he manages to find his balance and escape.

Wyatt barrels after him, leaping through the hole in the barricade and charging out of sight.

I growl in frustration, knowing where that asshole is headed. Do I go after him?

Over my shoulder, Natalie is absorbed in the fight. She reaches back for her quiver and fires a copper bullet at Sophia so fast I can’t even see it.

Sophia shrieks as it catches her upper arm, a crimson stain blossoming where it hit.

I turn back to Sebastian and Millie, breathing hard. “Freddie is heading to Alchemy 13.”

Millie, bent over her husband and cradling his mangled arm, nods. “Go. I’ll send someone after you.”

“Give him—a kick in the nuts for me,” Sebastian grunts.

I charge after Freddie, my steps uneven as my ankle sears mercilessly.

I sprint down the corridor and around the corner toward Alchemy 13—but before I can get there, Wyatt’s tail disappears through the open door of Alchemy 8. It’s the room that held my failed test when I first came to CSAMM.

Checking my speed, I take careful, quiet steps.

Freddie scans the bookshelves and flings open cabinet doors while Wyatt sniffs around with the focus of a bloodhound.

Heart pounding, fists clenched at my sides, I step through the doorway. “Wrong room, buddy.”

Freddie and Wyatt spin around. Wyatt snarls, his hackles rising.

“Katie!” Freddie looks past me, and his surprise melts into a sneer. “Here all alone with nobody to protect you?”

Wyatt creeps forward like a wolf stalking his prey. His claws click on the stone floor.

Fear prickles up my spine, but I stand my ground, trying for a taunting grin. “Not the threat you think it is, when all you’ve done is tried to recruit me over and over… and over.”

He drops his chin. “Well, you made your allegiance clear. I think I’ve given you enough chances.”

I edge sideways along the wall. The items from my failed test are still piled on a wooden table—the antique typewriter, traffic cone, feather boa, and the katana with a red handle and scabbard.

“I should’ve taken that thing from you while I had the chance.” Freddie’s gaze falls to the gauntlet on my hand. “That’ll teach me to be nice.”

“Yeah, you’ve been a real peach.”

He tilts his head. “You still owe me a vial, by the way. We had an agreement.”

Wyatt stalks too close for comfort, his fangs glinting in the glow from the skylight.

“Considering the circumstances, I hope you understand why I’ve changed my mind.” I lunge for the table of items and grab the katana—my mark of failure when I first came to CSAMM. Now, I hope it’s about to redeem me. I hold it in front of me with both hands, trying not to let the heavy blade waver.

Dog and handler tense, but they stay put.

I cock an eyebrow, challenging Freddie to try me.

“Did you like our gift?” he asks, mockingly casual.

“A bit on-the-nose.” I adjust my grip. My first time holding a sword, and it’s heavier than expected. “I gotta say, your mom’s already pretty good with earth magic. The curse was strong.”

“Helps when the magic is fresh.” He walks closer, coming to stand beside Wyatt. They’re a step away from the sword tip.

Sweat prickles on the back of my neck. “How’d she get it?”

Freddie smirks. “You have your secrets; we have ours.”

Dammit, where’s the help Millie promised to send? I strain my ears to listen for approaching footsteps, but none come.

“I have a hard time believing you figured out how to neutralize a curse and turn the gemstone into magic,” I say. “Which makes me wonder… How did you find feral magic?”

He inclines his head, a gleam in his eyes.

He steps sideways, and Wyatt steps in the opposite direction.

Shit. If they come at me from two sides, I’ll have to choose where to swing the sword. I flick my gaze between him and the dog, ready to defend myself.

“We had some help,” Freddie says.

“Someone in CSAMM?” Cold realization trickles through me. “Same person who’s telling you about curse locations?”

A little smirk appears on his lips, like he’s sharing a private joke. “In a way. He’s not exactly keen on helping us, but when your next meal is on the line, it’s a little easier to talk.”

Disgust rises in my throat, bitter and acidic. “You’re holding someone captive like a prisoner of war?”

“That’s a harsh way to put it,” Freddie says casually. “But I suppose. ”

I try to fit the pieces together. “How does he find out about all the new curse locations if he’s imprisoned?”

Slowly, Freddie’s lips curl into a grin. “Nat is in close contact with her dad. It’s sweet. Texts him to tell him every detail.”

My heart plummets into my feet. My chest constricts, panic closing in. Natalie’s dad?

No, it can’t be. He’s traveling.

Or, he was .

“Y-you’ve been forcing him to feed you intel?” I stammer, my mouth dry.

“No, no, it was much easier just to take his phone. I’ve been the one texting Nat back for the last few months, pretending to be Daddy.”

I grip the katana tighter, trembling with barely contained rage. Natalie’s unknowingly been the one leaking information to the Madsens? She’s how they’re finding out about the locations of new curses?

White-hot anger courses through me.

“I already knew I wanted to kill you,” I snarl. “This only makes me want it even more.”

Freddie sighs, disappointment flickering across his face. Calmly, almost inaudibly, he murmurs, “Finish her, Wyatt.”

The dog lunges, and I swing the sword. “Get back!”

My pulse picks up. Freddie wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d given me enough chances. He’s done going easy on me.

Wyatt crouches, threatening to pounce but not so reckless as to lunge at someone brandishing a sword. He stalks back and forth, holding my gaze, waiting for me to show weakness so he can get past the blade.

“Freddie, I really don’t want to have to hurt a dog,” I say with a tremor in my voice.

Wyatt snarls.

Freddie laughs, stepping sideways, positioning himself to swoop in. “He says he has no qualms with hurting you. ”

I edge around the cluttered wooden table, my heart pounding out of my chest. I’ve got one idea, and if it doesn’t work, I’m a goner.

I lower the sword, making myself vulnerable—and Wyatt wastes no time. He leaps onto the table to get at me, and I duck beneath it, rolling to the other side. He barks and snaps. Claws scramble over my head. The typewriter hits the floor with a heavy thud, the tiki torch clattering after it.

I straighten up as the dog lands where I was standing. With a roar, I grab the edge of the table and flip it over.

The table pins him to the floor, everything else falling around him. He barks furiously, nails scratching stone as he tries to get out from under the pile.

An arm wraps around my neck, pulling me back. “Good effort,” Freddie hisses in my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “But you’re going to wish you just let Wyatt tear you apart.”

I choke from the pressure, swinging the sword backward at him. But my movements are frantic, uncoordinated, and he grabs my wrist easily and squeezes until I’m forced to open my fingers and drop it. The pressure rises into my head. My lungs beg for air.

“I should’ve killed you in the graveyard,” he growls. “I was too soft—hoping you’d see you’ve been fighting for the wrong side. But you’re just as brainwashed as the rest of them. Why should an ordinary guy like me have the right to magic, eh?”

A small part of me wants to reason with him, wants him to know it’s not like that. It’s so much more complicated. But my throat is too crushed to speak, and even if I could, he’d never listen.

My head swims. Air. Need air.

In the distance, footsteps echo off the walls. “Katie!”

Relief jolts through my chest at the sound of Natalie’s voice.

I buckle my knees and let my weight drop, driving my fist as hard as I can into Freddie’s groin. The gauntlet slams into him, and he makes a pitiful whimper and curls in on himself. His grip loosens enough that I can duck out of the crook of his elbow.

I gasp for breath and try to shout for Natalie. I can’t make a sound—can’t do anything but cough.

“Katie?” Natalie shouts again, maybe hearing the commotion. Wyatt is barking, scrambling, nearly out from under the table.

Natalie’s shouts continue, growing more panicked with each call of my name. It transports me to all the other times she had to save me from Freddie—the graveyard, the dark alley on New Year’s, and even today, saving me and Hazel from that curse.

No more. This is the last time Freddie Madsen endangers my life, and the last time I’m going to need rescuing.

A shadow crosses overhead as he looms behind me, obscuring the skylight.

With a roar, I lunge for the katana and seize the handle. I roll onto my butt and swing it, and Freddie doesn’t recoil fast enough. A gash opens in his thighs, tearing a clean line through his jeans and flesh.

“Fuck!” he spits, stumbling. His red face contorts with rage, a more terrifying sight than any snarling dog. “I’ll kill you!”

He kicks at my head, and I swing my fist, a sickening crack ringing out as the gauntlet hits Freddie’s shin. He stumbles, clenching his teeth to stifle his roar of pain.

I push myself back with my heels, trying to put distance between us so I can stand up. “Natalie!” I yell. “Room 8!”

“Too bad she won’t be quick enough to save you this time.” Freddie stoops to pick up the antique typewriter, his muscles flexing as he lifts it with one hand.

A jolt shoots through my chest. He’s going to club me with it.

He steps toward me, raising it.

I roll onto my knees. I have a second to act—a second to come to terms with the fact that only one of us is making it out of this alive .

Holding the katana so firmly that my knuckles protest, I lunge, driving the blade as hard as I can at him.

It sinks into his belly. A strangled gasp escapes him.

I roar as adrenaline shoots through me.

Rocking back, I yank the blade free, opening the wound.

His blood cascades over the stone floor. The typewriter crashes down.

Numbness overtakes me as Freddie drops to his knees, his mouth open and his eyes bulging. A gurgle from deep in his throat prickles my eardrums.

He locks me with his gaze—those piercing blue eyes. How is it that I once looked into those eyes and thought he seemed friendly… just a normal guy standing in the streets? How did the lure of magic bring us to this?

He falls, slumping onto his side in his own pooling blood. A wave of nausea hits me as I watch his life drain away. In the next beat of my heart, his eyes become glassy and lifeless.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, my grip weakening.

What did I do?

My breaths rasp in and out, my chest heaving as I fight a surge of dizziness. I’ve taken a life. A strange disconnect opens inside me, like I’m watching this happen to someone else. Like these shaking, red-splattered hands are not my own.

Behind me, there’s a clatter of objects and a scramble of paws.

I jerk my head around to see Wyatt rise to all fours. His eyes gleam with a vengeance that sends a chill through my core.

As I bend to pick up the katana once more, he lunges, ready to tear my throat out.

I swing the weapon to keep him at bay, and he leaps sideways to avoid it.

My hands shake, my palms too sweaty and my muscles too weak to hold on much longer .

“Wyatt, stop,” I beg, hoping the dog can understand me—hoping that whatever magic tethered him to Freddie can dissolve.

Footsteps pound, and Natalie’s voice reverberates through the high ceilings. “Katie—Jesus Christ!”

The door is behind me, but I feel her presence in the room, wrapping around me like a supportive embrace.

“N-Natalie,” I stammer, keeping the blade pointed at the snarling dog.

“Back up toward me,” she says, sharp and commanding.

I take one, shaky step back.

Wyatt barks and lunges, no less ready to kill than he was a minute ago.

A bookshelf flies across the room and stops between the dog and me, forcing him to back up. He snarls and snaps at it. Books lift from the tipped-over shelves like birds, flapping above him, and he snatches one out of the air and shakes it, sending pages flying. The sounds he’s making send a deep, primal fear through my veins, urging me to get away.

As hard as I try to avoid looking at Freddie, my gaze pulls to his lifeless body, to the scarlet pool spreading around him. My eyes sting, tears rendering the room into splotches of brown and red, and my throat tightens until it hurts.

I killed someone.

“It’s okay, baby. Keep coming.” Natalie’s voice is soft and reassuring.

The books still fly, distracting Wyatt, giving me precious seconds.

A sob escapes as I force my feet toward the door, following the soothing sound of Natalie’s voice.

At last, I hit a warm, sturdy body, and I could sink to my knees in relief. Her strong hands close around my shoulders and tug me hard, forcing me out the door with her in two stumbling steps.

I trip over my feet and fall into her.

Wyatt leaps over the bookshelf, racing toward us.

Natalie’s arm shoots out beside me, her palm open, and the door to Alchemy 8 slams shut, trapping Wyatt inside .

We lose our balance and topple backward. The katana clatters to the floor. I land on Natalie, her body cushioning my fall.

The dog barks frantically, his claws scratching at the door with enough force to rattle it.

“Are you okay?” Natalie’s voice is loud, urgent.

“I—I’m fine,” I stammer, my tongue barely working.

The katana lays beside me, soaked in blood, and the spray has covered the front of my shirt and jeans.

Natalie slides me off her so she can roll onto her side. She crushes me to her chest, burying her face in my hair and inhaling deeply. She plants a line of frantic kisses before pulling back to look at me. “Did they hurt you?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Resting my head on the cold, stone floor, I meet her dark eyes. Her expression is so terrified and vulnerable that the crushing reality of what I’ve done reaches a peak.

I cover my face, trying to smother my panicked breaths and the sobs that want to escape. “I didn’t mean to…” I say into my hands. “He was coming at me…”

But I did mean to, didn’t I? After what they did to Hazel, I was out for blood. I wanted Freddie Madsen dead. What kind of monster am I?

Natalie’s fingers lace through mine and pull my hands down from my face. She caresses my cheek and pushes my sweaty hair back. “You had to. It was him or you. Him or all of us.”

I nod, wanting to believe her, but guilt and horror wrap around me like a noose. I blink back the sting in my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. Am I doomed to see Freddie’s lifeless body every time I close my eyes from now on? Will I forever wonder whether that was really necessary, or if there was another way to stop him?

A clamor in the distance reaches my ears, and we both turn toward it.

“The Shadows are here,” Natalie says.

My heart leaps. “Thank God. ”

“We’ll see.” She frowns, a deep crease appearing between her eyebrows. “They might be too late.”