Page 11 of Wicked Warlock
“Nice?”
“Yeah, it’s nice down here. Better than anyplace I’ve ever been.” She pointed at something a few feet away—a huddled bundle curled at the base of one of the pillars on the path to wherever it was the spirits went. “Hey, isn’t that the dude we all died for?”
I slowly rose to my feet and drifted closer to the huddled bundle. The closer I got, the more I recognized the long disheveled blond hair falling over his face and the tattered clothing. His legs were bent up in front of him and both his arms rested on his knees. I dropped down in front of him, wanting to place my hand on his to comfort him in some way, but I couldn’t.
“Logan?” I kept my head ducked down low, hoping the harpies wouldn’t grab me.
His head snapped up and his wide brown eyes met mine. “Astrid?”
“Are you okay?”
He held out his arms for me to look at. “I’m dead… of course, I’m not okay.”
“I hear that.” Beckett muttered behind me.
I shot a look over my shoulder at him. Always the critic. “I didn’t see anyone else with a better idea. You,” I pointed at Beckett, “were trying to take over the world, and you,” I motioned to Logan, “well, I can’t blame you for not having any ideas. But I guess we’ll all just have to suck it up.”
I motioned for Logan to get up beside me. “I know you’ve been through a lot—”
“Ya think?” He stood up and towered over me. “I’ve been kidnapped from my only home, impersonated by a psycho fairy, trapped in a literal poison world, and killed. Sucking it up isn’t going to happen.”
The squawking came from too close, and suddenly Logan was lifted up off the ground. His ghostly body turned solid within the harpy’s grasp. I reached out for him, but my hand passed right through his leg. “Logan! Logan, no!”
Chapter 5
Astrid
That damn harpy carried Logan up toward the nest. “We have to do something!”
Soto scoffed. “Well, that sucks.”
“We have to do something.” I started to run toward the pillar the harpies nested on. I lifted my arms, hoping for an ounce of power to kick some harpy ass.
Beckett stepped in front of me. “Got it.”
He looked to the spirit standing next to him and shoved his hand up through his chin, like he was throwing an uppercut. When he yanked his hand back, he held a single golden token.
What the hell!
Beckett wound up and pitched that one coin at the harpy, nailing it right in the eye. Its head jerked and her wings curled to the side. Logan tumbled from the grasp of the harpy. His body hurtled toward the ground, spinning and twisting through the air. I didn’t want to watch him smash into pieces or evaporate into mist.
“Are you crazy?”
“He’s got this.” Beckett didn’t even bat an eyelash.
Logan turned his body and suddenly landed on his feet like a cat. He crouched down for a second then pointed at Beckett’s chest. “You’re a dick.”
Beckett chuckled. “Yeah, but I knew you could do it.”
“Cliff jumping when we were nine isn’t the same as being dropped by a harpy, you jackass,” he growled, then his body went from corporal back to a ghostly soul.
The harpies howled and circled around us like a flock of vultures. I dove back down to the ground just as one passed close over my head. Yet Soto just stood there staring.
“Aren’t you afraid they’re going to get you, too?”
“Nah.” She rocked back and forth from her heels to her toes. “They’re almost done.”
“How do you…”
