The windows were covered. I didn’t see how that was possible.
In a sudden movement, I scooped all the paper off my bed, crumpled it up, and threw it in the trash. I didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t matter. The mage was cheating in the game of magic, he had a surly vampire I wanted back, if only for the fantastic dinners he put on, and—bottom line—he had my meal ticket to a better, less stress-riddled life. He could light the whole place on fire, shoot hellfire at me, and decorate the building in spells…
I was tired of playing. I was going to get what was mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
I slung my stained, frayed-edged, modified satchel over my shoulder and let it drape across my body. It was smaller than the version everyone else used, with an extra strap that kept it close to my side. When the flap was pulled back, there were compartments on the inside for easy grabbing on the run. I used to wear it all the time, but since I stopped being able to fill it with spells, the small leather pouch was a better option. Certainly a nicer-looking option.
My sword warmed my back and my gun was secured to my upper thigh. I buckled a knife to my ankle for overkill, because if the gun didn’t work, and the spells didn’t work, and my magic didn’t work, a knife certainly wouldn’t save the day. Still, you never knew.
“Right, then.” I took a deep breath and glanced out the window. The dying light put a hard edge on everything. Sundown was right around the corner.
I walked out of my room and down the hall, my head held high and butterflies in my stomach. Usually I went after one person. Occasionally two. I’d never taken on a whole army before. Especially not alone.
This wasn’t smart.
I was doing it anyway.
I reached my front door and kicked it. The wood fell away and tumbled down the steps. It felt good. Destruction!
A moment later, I hauled the door back to its former glory, leaning it against the gaping hole into my half-burned house. I didn’t need anyone telling the landlord on me, if they hadn’t already. I’d have to confront him eventually, but I figured I might as well wait, since there was a chance I wouldn’t survive.
The cab I’d called pulled up as I finished, ready to go. I climbed in and gave the address, breathing through the anxiety. My stomach flipped and tingles of nervousness radiated through my chest. The breathing wasn’t helping.
I thought about all the spells I had and where I’d put them in my satchel. Sometimes all I had was a split second to grab something—I needed to make sure it was the right something.
“You going to a costume party?”
I looked up in confusion, not having expected chatter. The cab driver was looking at me in the rearview mirror.
I glanced down at my leather pants, then touched my leather halter top. Leather covered my lower arms up to my elbows as well, leaving holes for my fingers.
“I work with fire.” I looked out the window, a subtle hint that I didn’t want to talk.
“You’re worried about your arms but not your stomach?”
He had clearly missed the hint.
I could feel the frown creasing my features. “I have hair on my arms, not my stomach.”
“What about your head?”
I grabbed the headrest in front of me, anger filling my body. With my finger, I made a circle around my face. “Does this look like the face of a girl who likes small talk?”
His eyes rounded in surprise. He went back to driving. Blessed silence filled the cab.
A half-hour later, I argued with him about where to let me off, finally convincing him that a dodgy side road near my destination was the right spot. He wanted to make sure I got there safely, but he also wanted to keep his nose on his face. The desire for an intact nose finally won out.
My foot crunched on the gravel as I stepped out of the cab. The dull thunk of the car door set my decision in stone—this was happening. Final, final. No turning back unless I wanted a long walk.
The eight hundredth deep breath of the night done, I started on my way, trying not to turn around and yell at the cabbie to come back. The sound of insects replaced the hum of the motor, reminding me that I was on my own. Each footstep was a crunch in the direction of a crap-load of mages who wanted to do me harm.
My father’s blood roared in my veins, the key to controlling that demon. My mother’s blood sang a song of magic. I was a mutt of excellent pedigree, unlike anything the world had seen before. One of a kind, fated for a throne. I was all by myself, but my ancestors were riding on my shoulders. This had been the way of it my whole life, and I was about to unleash it all on Mr. All Powerful.
He would regret sending that dick pic. He would regret burning my house even more.
The old church came into view, partially hidden behind trees shooting into the sky. Usually buildings and houses around here were wood or brick, but this ramshackle establishment looked like people had painstakingly built it stone by heavy stone, slapping the layers together with mortar and curses. There was an old-world feel about it that didn’t seem to fit with the new world of America. It was magical, I had no doubt, and I wondered if humans could even see it.
His chessboard was laid out, and I was about to throw a bowling ball through it. Always trust in crazy.
As I got closer, I could see the structure more closely. An old church, it had a grand entrance front and center with thick wooden doors, and a large square edifice with two rectangles stuck on the sides. I couldn’t tell if the building was made up of sections, or if it would be completely open inside.