Page 129 of Shadows of Perl

Then she gasps as metal protrudes through her shirt, sprouting a flower of blood.

Fifty

Jordan

I see red.

The Dragun’s gleaming eyes glint with ambition as dark magic whirs in his hand. Quell’s knees hit the ground, and I’m on top of him in a blur of motion. My fist connects with his face, and I keep smashing until my knuckles are wet with his blood. I crush his windpipe, summoning the cold. He sputters as the choke takes him.

“Traitor,” he mutters. Shadows urge the toushana into him. My heart thuds; shoving it at such a fast rate makes my fingers numb. He tries to writhe, but the choke stiffens him beneath me. He gazes up, frozen, with a wide-eyed stare. His skin begins to bruise beneath mine, and I snatch my hand away. I stumble up and off him, swallowing hard.

The urge to climb back on top of him bites at me, but I reach for the cuffs. He’s not moving. I nudge him with my foot and his hand twitches. I rush to Quell. Her shirt is soaked. But she motions for me to help her up and I do. Once on her feet, she lifts her shirt to show her wound. The tip of a long metal knife protrudes from her abdomen. The gash above her navel is weeping red, when something strange happens.

Quell’s hand swells with toushana. She grips the dagger’s tip and winces. But when she pulls it out, the blade dissolves, inch by bloodied, silver inch. The dagger handle falls from her back, clattering to the ground, but I can’t tear my gaze away from her wound. She works shadows across her trunk again, and the gash narrows until it’s closed completely and her stomach is smooth and soft.

“I don’t understand.”

She stares in disbelief. “I wasn’t sure it would work.”

“Toushana destroys everything it touches,” I say.

“Except itself. I realized it when I was studying how Darkbearers used to bind with dark magic. They used toushana on itself and it healed the impurities in Darkbearers’ blood. My magic decomposed the blade. But when it touched my skin, it sensed itself and rebuilt what was dying.”

This is some kind of trick. A lie. But the only thing that’s changed is the pace of my heartbeat. She lays my hand on her skin where the wound just was. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so. Are you okay?” She eyes the unmoving Dragun on the ground.

“Healers should still be able to help him.”

A wild look still gleams in Quell’s eyes.

“You can’t do this,” I say, remembering how we got in this mess in the first place.

“They’re not dead. Every Dragun I stopped is one of Beaulah’s that won’t be in our way tomorrow. At least I think they’ll wake up tomorrow.” She shows me a paper with ripped edges. “There are several more rooms full of Draguns. I intend to clear them all.”

“Do you hear yourself?” I take the paper. It’s a guest log she’s apparently stolen from the front desk. “Quell, this is wrong.”

“It’s not. Somewhere, deep down, you know that.” She moves to the door. “You won’t stop me. So help me or look the other way.” She leaves, and all I can think of is some kind of harm coming to her. It boils me with rage but cuts like fear. I will not lose her. Not like this. I rush out the door behind her. Quell is about to slip inside the seams of the next door when I grab her by the wrist. “Only maim them as little as you have to. Restrain them. I’ll cuff them.”

“Fine.” She tugs her wrist out of my hold. With my heart in my throat, I follow her into the next dark room.

* * *

An hour races past, and by the time we finish, we’ve made sure a whole floor of Draguns can’t use their magic. When we stumble out of the last room, Quell’s own hands are covered in deeper bruises; they travel all the way up her arms. We stop at the door to her room. Her clothes are disheveled, her hair is a mess, and the look in her eyes is untamed. But she is smiling. I’ve only seen her move with that much passionate determination one other time. And it had been ridiculous.

Then we ran through the kitchens of my father’s hotel, and she shoved cake in my mouth. So utterly ridiculous. Embarrassing, frankly. And yet I don’t think I ever laughed so hard. My father was furious when he found out what we did, which only made it more delicious. There was something unbridled in her expression then, and that same person stares at me now. She is untethered and free. I move closer to her. Her lashes dip. How is it that she’s never been more beautiful to me than in a moment like this?

The thought sinks my heart with such regret.

She grabs the knob behind her and opens the door, but I linger in the doorway, adrenaline coursing through me like a hungry lion. After a moment I realize I don’t have anywhere else to go and follow her inside. She disappears into the bathroom. I sit on the edge of her bed, and the heaviness of the night sits on my chest. On the one hand we minimized the threat; we upheld justice. But on the other, I’ve just abused my power by aiding and abetting a fugitive.

The bathroom door opens, and she stands in the doorway, wrapped in a towel, hair dripping wet. “Oh.” She cinches her towel tighter. “You’re still here.”

“You’re right, I should go.” I stand, my muscles complaining at the teasing rest I just gave them.

“Jordan, you need to sleep. It’s been two days.” She has a point. She grabs her pile of clean clothes that I hang-dried for her. On her way back into the bathroom, she stops close to me and fixates on my pendant dangling on my chest.