Page 11 of Of Flame and Fury

He bends, parting the limbs of the octopus gown and leaning in for one hell of a kiss.

It must be love, ’causedamn.

I crawl forward. “Destiny,” I call. “Destiny, please.”

“Destiny?”

“Destiny!”

Son of a bitch.

Several long and awkward seconds later, they come up for air. She giggles against his lips. “Are you saying we shouldn’t go down to the party and spend the night here instead?”

Tye tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth, smearing her purple lipstick on his teeth. “Hell yeah?” he mutters.

I reach out a hand when the room rocks from side to side, and they go in for another kiss. I exert my magic, trying my best to focus on my power and not the sway of the room. “Hear me, oh great and magical Destiny,” I beg. “I need your help to save the Mate and child.”

Their kiss is all they know. There’s tongue. Jesus God, lots and lots of tongue.

The audible sounds of their smooching can’t be real. It has to be the result of a spell or some other shit. “Destiny,” I call out. “Celia Wird Connor, the Mate and Carrier of the Unborn Savior of Good, needs you.”

I’m struggling to maintain the formal verbiage needed to magicallycallsomeone. They don’t make it easy.

Tye releases a sucker or whatever the fuck he’s holding in his hand and trails his fingers along the bodice of her strapless number.

“Seriously?” I ask. “Hey.Hey. I’m standing right here.” OMG…and there’s a nipple.

Tye cups her breast, lowers his mouth, and…I groan. “For fuck’s sake!”

Destiny breaks away from Tye and pulls up her dress. “Taran?”

I almost cry with relief. “Yes, dammit.”

Both turn from side to side. “Where are you?” Tye asks.

“In the room,” I yell. “I need help—Celia needs help. Something is after her.”

They peer toward the door, and to the ceiling, and then on the floor in the opposite direction of where I’m barely keeping it together. “Here,” I yell. “I’m next to the table.”

They turn fast, blinking. Destiny stretches out her hands. “I can’t sense her anywhere. Can you, pookie cub?” she asks.

Tye shakes his head. “I can’t even smell her.” He hurries toward the table, searching blindly with his palms out.

“Here,” I say. I wince when he smacks me in the head. “You just hit me in the head.”

He scans the room, growling. “Taran, your voice is coming from all directions. It’s like you’re everywhere and nowhere at once.”

“Forget me,” I say. “Just get to Celia.”

Tye whips off his tuxedo jacket and shirt. “Des, take care of Taran—I’ll get the others.” He bounds toward the wall and only the wall. The door leading out is gone. All the doors have vanished, as have the windows, and any way out.

“What the fuck?” he yells. His fists pound against the plaster. Instead of cracking the walls and breaking through, the walls reverberate as if he’s banging rubber. He roars,callingand warning the pack.

“They can’t hear you, cubbie,” Destiny says quietly. Her eyes close, and her arms raise, level with the floor. The octopi limbs elevate, quivering as Destiny reaches out to the magic cursing the room. The makeup she’s wearing gives her a skull-like appearance. She chants in a language I don’t recognize, beautiful and deadly, gentle and manic, and oh-so-very Destiny.

Magic seeped with the aroma of licorice spreads and engulfs the suite, hammering the foreign power that’s invading the house. An invisible force lifts me, and the tips of my feet skim along the floor. I cover my head, preparing for the worse.

“Yield,” she yells, bringing down her fists hard to her side.