Page 36 of Ivy & Bone

Dropping his bags, Cyrus surged forward, tackling the man from behind. The assailant grunted as Cyrus held him in a chokehold. Prue’s knee connected with the attacker’s groin, but he didn’t even flinch.

Was this thing even a man at all? Unless . . .

Just as Cyrus put the pieces together, shadows bled from the ground, snaking toward Prue.

“Prue!” Cyrus shouted, but it was too late. The inky blackness reached her toes, and she fell to her knees with an anguished scream. The darkness climbed up her foot, trying to claim the rest of her body.

Cyrus knew this darkness well. It would eat at her flesh and bones until it had consumed her entirely.

“My magic!” Cyrus bellowed. The man wriggled, trying to get free, but Cyrus held fast. “Give it to me, Prue!”

When she continued to do nothing but scream, Cyrus roared, “Now!”

“It’s yours!” she screamed. “Take it! Just take it!”

Cyrus swore. How could she give him his magic back if she wasn’t even coherent enough to use her own? But, miraculously, fire swelled in his chest as if responding to her words. And with his power came something . . . else. A roar of anger and resentment rumbled in Cyrus’s mind, making his vision go dark for the briefest of moments.

Cyrus didn’t know how, but he somehow knew it was his death magic. His own powers were raging against him, as if angry they had been restrained for too long.

What in all the realms of Hell was going on? Since when did his magic have a mind of its own?

But he didn’t have time to focus on it. Mercifully, his vision cleared, and he snapped into action. He shoved the assailant forward before unleashing his dark flames on him. Fire pooled from his hands like water, smothering the attacker’s body. A feral growl, followed by a shrill scream, filled the air as Cyrus’s magic scorched the man. Cyrus bared his teeth, reveling in the hungry roar growing inside him with each push of his flame. The magic yearned to be let out, to burn this man to a crisp until he was nothing more than a smoking husk.

Prue let out a cry of anguish, snapping Cyrus out of his vengeful haze. He halted his attack on the man, who whimpered feebly in response, and hurried over to Prue. The shadows had crept past her ankle and were now climbing up her shin. She clutched her leg, clawing at the darkness as if she could pry it off her skin by force, but Cyrus knew it was impossible.

Only one thing could chase away the darkness: Cyrus’s fire.

Cyrus shot a jet of black flame straight at Prue’s foot. She screamed again, her face contorting with agony and pain. Tears streamed down her face. But, just as he expected, the shadows receded, repelled by Cyrus’s magic.

As soon as the darkness disappeared, Cyrus was inspecting her foot, his movements slow and gentle so as not to exacerbate the injury. He hadn’t sent a full blast of power, so, thankfully, her skin was still intact. Just singed. It would heal.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, looking into her eyes to ensure the shadows hadn’t claimed her elsewhere.

Prue didn’t answer. Her face was wet from crying, and she hissed a breath through her teeth. Though her eyes swam with tears, they drilled into him with all the force of her fury.

Scuffling footsteps drew his attention to the mouth of the alley. The assailant had scrambled to his feet and darted away, but not before Cyrus caught sight of the tail slithering from underneath his cloak.

Shit. It definitely hadn’t been a man. It had been a demon from the Underworld.

FEARS

PRUE

He burned her. He’d actually burned her. As soon as he’d gotten his magic back, he’d used it on her.

Goddess, she was so stupid.

“I can heal that,” Cyrus muttered.

“It wouldn’t need to be healed if you hadn’t burned me,” Prue snapped as she hobbled along the sidewalk toward the apothecary. “Besides, I already took your magic away again. I’ll heal it myself once we find a carriage driver.”

Cyrus opened his mouth to argue, but Prue silenced him with a scathing look. She wasn’t sure how his magic could come and go with nothing but a word from her, but she wasn’t about to question it, not when she could render him powerless with a mere thought.

After spending several minutes haggling and emerging from the apothecary with far less than she’d hoped to buy, Prue found herself in an even worse mood than before. Curse this wretched place and its high prices. She yearned for the simple markets in Krenia, where everyone offered their wares for a fair exchange. Voula City, however, was full of nothing but greed and deception.

Just like Cyrus.

Prue was a fool. An utter and complete fool.

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