Page 37 of Warlocks Don’t Win (Singsong City #9)

A crash of glass and a flash of green lightning had me blinking my eyes open. Someone was pelting fireballs at the house. Green fireballs, the color of the unholy pits of my father’s eye sockets.

The witch turned to the attacker, hissing. “What manner of construct is this?”

“Love,” I mumbled as I struggled to raise up on my elbows. Hm. My legs didn’t look so good. Broken. Those were bones sticking out of them, but there wasn’t as much blood loss as you’d expect. Right. Because I was Rasputin’s daughter, ergo, hard to kill. Convenient.

“Love?” She didn’t bother looking at me, but she was sweating, trying to put out all the fireballs while holding Winston in the air, and struggling against Sage House. I could feel her efforts sucking the life out of me.

“Love is strong.” I patted the marble floor. “Like Sage House, looking out for us even though I abandoned her. I always loved her, but it hurts. Love hurts.” A flash of feeling in my legs had me blinking out white pain.

I screamed and threw that pain at her in a bolt of raw energy that struck her in the chest.

She stumbled back, and then Winston fell out of those compressing coils. He landed on me.

I gurgled and flopped back down like a rotting fish. He scrambled to his feet in those shredded pants and then the skin on his body came to life with more mage marks than I’d ever seen. They were from all over the spectrum, light to dark, and all of them were powerful.

It was her turn to be wrapped in compressed air. Very cool. He slashed his hands apart and she fell. I felt the bindings to her break. She was cut off from my magic, from Sage House, and from Winston.

I patted his bare foot with my hand. “Good job.”

She threw a bolt of lightning at him, throwing him back into the wall. He fell down on top of me. Again. This time we were face to face.

“Got to stop meeting like this,” I said and then kissed him. It hurt. But also felt so good. My husband.

He rolled off me and stalked towards her, dodging a fireball easily as he went. So beautiful, my warlock with lightning coiling around his arms. He was going to have lots of glass sliver in those feet when we were done.

He shot lightning at her, but she raised a shield and threw them back at him. He also raised a shield, sending them back at her. They bounced a few times before discharging into the floor. Except that one hit my foot. I felt that. My hair was going to be so bad after this.

The world rocked and a dark pulsing portal appeared. Jessica, Jordan and Tolly stumbled through then stopped, staring at the scene for a second before she threw a curse at Winston’s mother and then dropped next to me, grabbing my hand like my fingers weren’t crushed.

“Are you okay?”

“Seriously? My foot is charred, my legs are broken, and my hair is sticking straight up. And you ask if I’m okay?” I grinned at her. “Never been better.”

A thud and then Parody came in, followed closely by Portalia and the rest of the Singsong Coven. Rynne looked way too pulled together to belong to that bunch of mayhem. The Warlock’s Kiss had brought their instruments.

A stray bolt of lightning had them backing up in the hall.

“That’s why your hair’s so bad!” Jessica said, crouching down behind me so I could take any stray bolts of lightning as her shield. Such courage.

Winston and his grandmother were in a stand-off, probably because he’d already lost so much energy and strength to me and her with those nasty bindings.

He probably also wasn’t comfortable killing the woman who’d raised him, even if she had killed his parents. He might not know about that yet. If he couldn’t kill her, because he wasn’t a killer, however dark he thought his warlock was, that left it up to me.

“I could use an iron nail,” I told Sage House. When I spread my fingers, I felt it under my hand. It was forgiving me for making it break the curse? What a good house. I shouldn’t have abandoned it.

I curled my bloody fingers around the iron nail and then rolled to my feet and threw myself at Madame Winston. I took her down just right, nailing her right through the heart.

Her eyes burned at me, hatred that my mother hadn’t shown when I’d killed her. “Impossible. You’re dying.” She struggled in spite of the death I was giving her.

“Love,” I said while her blood spread around her and she struggled. “Gives me strength.” And so did she. Close contact was all I needed to draw as much life and magic out of her as I wanted. I wanted to steal as much from her as she’d stolen from me and my husband.

I smiled into her eyes and ripped everything out of her.

Another fireball exploded above us, and the ceiling creaked like it was about to come down. Maybe my father was wrong about fire being good for the house. That would be hilarious.

“Clary,” Winston said, crouching over me while I stared into the last flicker of life in Dame Winston’s eyes. I stole that last breath and then got up, shaking out my sore limbs and giving him a smile.

“I murdered her,” I said then shrugged. “I am a convicted killer.”

He rolled his eyes, picked me up and carried me out of the house, a toad hopping in front of us, almost tripping him.

“You don’t have to carry me. I’m just fine,” I said, wrapping my hands around his neck, because if he tried to put me down, I was going to strangle him.

“Your legs are broken,” he responded, not stopping as he walked across the porch. It was burning, but I didn’t feel the heat.

“It was just a scratch. I feel fine.” With his arms around me, I felt much better, but I was still going to take ages to recuperate. I felt better than I was because of the life I’d stolen from his grandmother. He might not want to hear about that. But she had killed his parents, and he hated that.

“I’m never putting you down again.”

I smiled and pressed my face against his neck. He smelled so good. Nice to know that we were on the same page.

He stopped abruptly and I looked up to see Tabitha and the Salem Coven blocking our way. What were they doing here? I hadn’t summoned them. They’d missed the big fight. I’d guess that was intentional.

“You think to claim the voice?” Tabitha demanded.

Ah, right. I’d done that. Bad idea. I opened my mouth to tell her that it was just a joke, but Silas spoke up.

“I vote for Lady Sage. It is her proper place to rule the Coven. She defeated the golem I sent to kill her without breaking a nail.” He flashed me a creepy smile while I stared at him. Huh. He’d been the one trying to kill me? I guess Winston’s grandmother was right about that.

“Of course you fell for her seduction,” Tabitha said, drawing herself up like a plump spider about to shoot webs out of her fingers. “This is why male witches are so weak.”

“We aren’t weak, we’re warlocks!” one of the Warlock’s Kiss band members said, coming out of the shadows with a guitar.

Tabitha snorted. “Is this a joke? Of course it is. Singsong Coven will always be a joke.”

That’s when a pink-turbaned Portalia ran across the yard, holding aloft a stick that she thwacked the startled Tabitha with, right over the head.

The next thing I knew, it was a melee, like a Saturday at the coven with too much homebrew and not enough sausage rolls.

“I’m not sure what to do about this,” Winston said.

With a crash of lightning and a sense of impending doom, a cloaked figure with burning green eyes stepped out of the shadows, holding out a hand chest high. “You claim my daughter? Without asking for my consent?” His voice was dark, foreboding evil that you just couldn’t fake.

Winston stiffened up while those glowing eyes in that shadowed cloak burned brighter.

“Ah, sir, I meant to ask for your consent as soon as the bindings to the evil force I’ve been hunting my whole life were broken.

She married me without my consent, too. Not that I mind. ” He flashed me a panicked look.

I patted his cheek and dropped down. I summoned a bottle of vodka from the house and took a swig, coughed and sputtered before handing it to Winston.

He took a careful swallow and handed it back to me.

I held it out to my father who hesitated before he clasped the bottle in his bone fingers, gleaming in the moonlight and the reflection of the burning house.

“Very well. We drink to your happiness, my little girl.” He raised the bottle and drank, and drank, and drank, and drank, until the cloak, the bones, and the bottle all collapsed in a pile of cloak dust.

I exhaled and bent to pick up the bones. Winston helped, glancing at me as he picked up a rib. “Your father really is Rasputin.”

“That’s what they tell me,” I said, nodding at Tolly to help sniff out all the little tiny bones. It was much better to keep the bones together in the mausoleum.

“Was that actually…” Jessica sputtered, but didn’t come any closer.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said, frowning at the pelvic girdle. “Although I have to admit he has a fabulous fireball.”

An older woman in the group raised her hand, staring at me solemnly. What was her name? It had been fifteen years, and she was much older now. “I give my vote to the new voice, Clary Sage.”

As one, the rest of the coven raised their hands, “I vote Clary Sage as Salem Coven Voice.” It was eerie the way they all reacted to seeing my father’s animated bones.

“She is a worthy candidate,” the butler said, coming out of the shadows, carrying his umbrella and a basket of sausage rolls. “You have chosen well. I realized the moment I tried to shoot her in the head that she would be a fine ruler for Salem.”

The butler tried to kill me? I felt so betrayed. Also idiotic for not automatically suspecting the butler. The butler always did it.

Silas nodded his agreement. “She completely destroyed the golem.”

“Thanks for using one of my show’s props,” Jessica said, scowling hard at him.

“No way she’s going to let you continue using her name and reputation,” he pointed out with a shrug and a stroke of his evil goatee.

“Who threw a fireball at the family mausoleum?” I demanded, frowning at Jessica. She was the only other one who’d come to help, even if her help was so-so. Knowing Salem, that meant that she’d tried to kill me.

“Don’t look at me. You won my vote when you cured my hangover.”

I searched all the faces, and finally Tabitha raised her quivering chin. “I did it. You came barging into my house without any respect. I couldn’t let that rest.”

“Okay. Salem’s Coven, feel free to take care of Tabitha properly while I lay my father’s bones to rest in the family mausoleum.

It is sacred to me. I will kill anyone who touches it.

Or my husband.” I shook my head. I hadn’t meant to put that part in, but he was such a strong part of everything I wanted and would always want and need.

Together we went to the mausoleum carrying Rasputin’s bones while Tolly trotted behind.

“Now what?” he asked once we’d finished closing him into the vault. The house was still burning, but the house felt cheerful about it. This would be a renewing fire, cleansing the corrupt bindings that had sucked it dry for so long.

I watched that fire while the sound of Warlock’s Kiss played in the background. They were stuck here as long as the way door was burning unless they wanted to take a train.

“Nettle Winston,” I said, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Do you think I should let Jessica keep playing my part, for the betterment of witches or whatever?”

He shrugged. “That’s for you to judge. I’m personally done with it.

We’ll need a new leading lady either way.

” He bumped my arm with his. Still bare.

Still rippling with raw masculinity. “Maybe you should watch the show. Both of them. Tell me how you want to proceed. Also, about the binding. I’m getting better and better at breaking them.

Do you want me to break it? Better say yes before I lose my strength. ”

I turned and looped my hands around his neck.

My hands were so disgusting, stained with everything from dried blood to vodka to bone dust. “Why don’t we go to Comfrey Corner and talk about it?

” I stared up at him, feeling like a real harlot while he looked down at me, eyes intent with his aching softness.

“To the bed and breakfast? You’d like to break the bindings there? It’s a good private place where you can be comfortable…”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head then grabbed his hand and dragged him towards my striped truck. I’d paint it green and purple stripes. I would always match.

“Not to break the binding, to have our honeymoon. I love you. I don’t think it’s going to go away.

I know that it always ends in death or betrayal, but since it started with betrayal, and death is the state of most of the people I love, we might be able to have a happily ever after.

Maybe not happily. Probably more like weirdly ever after, but if you don’t mind the stripes… ”

He pulled me into his arms and held me close, gazing into my eyes for a breath-stealing moment before he kissed me. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my eye lids, my chin, then my lips again, a burning, sweet, perfect kiss that swept away every misery I’d ever known.

He picked me up and carried me away to the cheers of two covens I was probably stuck with, along with the squeal of warlock guitars and an underlying baseline, a croaking ‘har-lot, har-lot, har-lot.’

I should probably do something about Winston’s co-star, but later. After the honeymoon was over.

The End