Page 19 of Magic Forsaken
With a muttered curse, I scooped it off the ground, tucked it against my chest and turned to face its tormentors.
“That’s enough.”
One of the boys hit me with a flat, blank stare. “It’s enough when I say it’s enough.” He followed that up with a string of colorful expletives—including creative commentary on my parentage and probable profession—and punctuated his statements by spitting on my shoes. His aim, at least, was commendable, even if his character, personality, and hygiene were not.
In a fight against a single opponent, I could handle myself well enough. These boys couldn’t have been much more than fourteen, and didn’t carry themselves like trained fighters, but there were six of them and one of me, and I was carrying a cat.Not to mention there was no way of knowing whether any of them carried weapons.
But I didn’t make the mistake of glancing around to see if I could count on any backup. Even if someone was watching, it was unlikely they would risk themselves for a stranger.
“Why pick on a helpless kitten? She can’t fight back.”
“Maybe I just like to hear her squeal,” the boy responded, his light-colored eyes brightening with something that looked a lot like crazy. “Maybe I’ll make you squeal instead, little girl. Can you squeal louder than a kitty?”
“I don’t know.” I met his mad stare without flinching. “But I’m game to find out if you are. Are you man enough to pick on someone your size without your posse to back you up?”
I’d hoped it would make him come at me on his own. If I could handle the leader, it was less likely the others would risk taking me on. But this group clearly fought as a pack, and they attacked without any need for direction.
I evaded them for a moment or two, even got in a few solid kicks that I knew would leave bruises, but they came at me with fists and feet… and a club. The boy carrying it wasn’t as stupid as I’d hoped—he swung for my legs, eventually getting in enough good hits to drop me to my knees on the sidewalk.
But all I could think about as I fell to the ground, curled my body around the kitten, and tried to protect my head, was whether I was a fool to continue denying my magic.
Were Kira and Seamus right? Was I only endangering others by refusing to use this dangerous power that coursed through me, rising higher and wilder with each blow? Should I give in and set it free? Accept that it was a part of me and try to be worthy of the agonizing cost?
I could even promise myself that I would only use it for good causes—like flattening these petty tyrants. Teaching them never to pick on something tiny and helpless again.
But even with the heavy blows still raining down on me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not when I had Ari and Logan to protect. Not when I’d heard the screams of terror and devastation echoing down those corridors, and knew the true price that had been paid for the power I now possessed.
Besides, once I let go—once I set any part of it free—that would only open the floodgates for more. And who knew what fresh horrors I might learn about myself and what had been done to me?
A boot crashed into my ribs, and I grunted with pain, but I did not scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Until a hand grabbed my hair, tilted my head back, and a pair of wild gray eyes stared into mine with bloodthirsty glee.
Something in me snapped.
Like a chain or a tether… breaking.
My body contracted violently. My vision changed. My perspective shivered and widened. Colors went flat and strange.
And then I was leaping for the boy’s throat with a vicious snarl. It was unlike any sound I’d made before. Unlike any feeling I’d ever had. The world was suddenly bright and loud and visceral, and all I wanted was his jugular between my teeth.
But the boy wasn’t there anymore. He’d been snatched away by the back of his collar and hung in the air, dangling from the grip of a towering, auburn-haired figure with fiery amber eyes.
“Humans torturing a shapeshifter?” The shifter king’s voice rumbled alarmingly as he loomed over the boys, presenting a palpable threat simply by standing there. “That violates at least three laws that I know of, but if you’d prefer, we can forego the police and you can attempt to hit me instead.”
The boy in his grip began to struggle and kick, but it was like spitting on a forest fire—ultimately stupid and probably deadly.
“Or”—Callum’s voice somehow managed to become even more menacing as his eyes glowed brighter and he pulledthe dangling miscreant closer—“you can recognize a superior predator when you see one, andrun.”
His hand opened. The boy fell in a sprawled out heap, rolled away, scrambled backwards, and then tripped over his own sagging pants before finally finding his feet. His friends were halfway down the block already, so after screaming meaningless threats and making one last crude gesture in Callum’s direction, he turned and slunk away.
Callum let out a sigh that sounded at least as much annoyed as it did exhausted before he turned around and directed that amber gaze towards me, with a quick detour for the kitten huddling beside me on the concrete. Speculation narrowed his eyes, and I opened my mouth to explain, but…
All that came out was a high-pitchedyip.
I looked down.
I was standing onpaws.Four of them—small, furry, and white. No wonder the dragon looked so huge. Turning my head, I caught sight of an enormous, fluffy white tail and when I tried to turn to get a better look, my whole body went in a circle.