Page 12 of Of Flame and Fury

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Page 12 of Of Flame and Fury

The room crashes down, and I with it. I roll to a stop at their feet.

I don’t even get my bearings when Tye lifts me by the shoulders in one move. “What’s happening?” he demands.

“The house,” I stammer, still feeling the effects of the dizzying room. “The spells…they’re turning them against us.”

“Who is?” Tye asks.

I rub my face, trying to shake the nausea. “Nytes. That’s all I know. Please. We have to get to Celia.”

“No!” Destiny says.

At first, I think she’s denying me, but then something changes in her features. She backs away, anger and fear bleaching her pallor.

“Des?” Tye asks. He hurries toward us when she doesn’t answer. “Baby, what is it?”

Her focus bounces between us. “They’re here,” she says, her voice splintering with emotion. “They’re all here for Celia.”

The severity of her tone hollows Tye’s voice. “Christ,” he says.

She swallows hard as her gaze drinks every bit of Tye in. “I love you,” she tells him. “Whatever you do, donotleave the house.”

Destiny’s figure disintegrates into a cloud of black and white. She jets in the direction of where the French doors once stood and vanishes.

“Des!”

Like me, Tye knows she just told us goodbye.

Chapter Four

Tye roars, his anger sinking into the terrifying sound. “Fuck.”

“No shit,” I say. “But Destiny’s not alone. She has us, we just have to get out of here.”

The aroma of licorice and spice fills the room, creating a sparkling cloud. It passes along the wall, clearing out the curse veiling our surroundings and outlining the transparent image of the door now several yards behind us. The room alters with each pass, darkening the bed frame and altering the bed linens from stark white to gold. It transforms into an entirely different suite. I ignore the alternating shapes of the chairs table and furniture, fixing on the way out that Destiny revealed.

“What the actual hell is going on here?” Tye asks. “Destiny’s magic is everywhere, but so is all this shit.”

He curses again when the door shifts to a new spot. I’m not waiting for it to move again. I take off, sprinting past my suite and Emme’s.

Ahead of me, a vamp rests his back against the wall, smoking a cigar as his leer locks onto a Lesser witch’s throat.

“Celia Connor is in danger,” I yell.

The vampire pushes away from the wall. “The Mate, Celia Connor is here,” he says. “Shall we continue our talk later in my bed?”

For all I think he heard me, he doesn’t react with the urgency I expect.

The Lesser smiles, toying with the long strand of his ebony hair. She thinks she has him where she wants him. I hate to tell her she absolutely doesn’t. “Perhaps, perhaps not. I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Did you hear what I said?” I don’t quite finish speaking when my feet grow heavy and start sticking to the stupid floor. I curse loudly, and no one can blame me. Destiny’s counterspell lessens the farther I am from her suite.

A furious roar bellows behind me. My feet are getting heavier, and my steps are slowing, but at least I’m still moving. Tye, now an immense white lion, is glued to the floor. He snarls furiously, ripping a paw free with a barbarous jerk.

Agony leaks into his growls. Chunks of flesh and muscle are left embedded into the floor, and blood spews from his paw.

“Don’t place your foot back down,” I tell him. My eyes widen when I realize he doesn’t immediately start to heal. The magic corrupting the house is affecting the witches and theweres.

I’m on my own again, but I won’t let it stop me. I slam my right hand on the floor and release several bolts of lightning. Instead of penetrating and singeing the wood, they bounce and zigzag down the hall.




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