Page 72 of Strength of Desire

I was sitting up now, but hadn’t quite gotten to my feet when the man turned back to look at me. He pointed the gun at me and grunted.

“I hate the human world. Everything is so much more complicated here.”

Before I had a chance to process that, light flared in the clearing behind him, casting his body in silhouette. A second later, someone shouted, “Fire!”

Flames surrounded the man, licking up his overcoat wildly. He spun around with a cry of pain, waving the gun wildly, and for the first time, I could see who else had joined us in the clearing. It was Professor Romero.

My whole body went limp with relief. Professor Romero was here. He was a witch. He would know what to do.

I pushed to my feet, my body swaying as I found my balance. I brushed a hand across my face, trying to clear the blood out of my eyes. Every bone in my face hurt. Every bone in my body. But for the first time that night, I could see the scene clearly.

Romero stood at the edge of the clearing, a giant globe of light spinning above his head. His right hand was held out at waist level, fire dancing above it. The man in the overcoat was cursing. He ripped his coat off and threw it down, flames hissing in the snow.

His back was to me as he stared at Romero. His hands were at his side, fingers spread, like he was trying to convince Romero he wasn’t a threat. The gun lay at his feet. He must have dropped it when Romero hit him with that fire spell.

His hat had come off sometime in the fight and lay upturned next to the door that still hung in the air. And in front of the door, lying on her back, eyes staring blankly at the sky, was Erika. The snow around her head was a back pool, and there was a small, dark hole in the center of her forehead. It was almost dainty looking.

“Cory,” said Romero, his voice tauter than I had ever heard it. “Are you alright?”

“I’m—” I stopped, swallowing around the sob that wanted to rip out of my throat. I wouldn’t be any help to Professor Romero if I lost it. I needed to stay calm. “I’m okay,” I said, my voice thready. “But he killed Erika. He killed her.”

I could hear the hysteria trying to creep in.

“I’ll take care of it,” Romero said, and I didn’t know if he meant he’d take care of the man, or take care of Erika.

But he couldn’t take care of her, not if she was dead. Magic couldn’t bring people back from the dead, could it?

“Cory, I need you to go back to the manor,” Romero said calmly. He wasn’t looking at me—his eyes were glued to the other man’s face. “Whatever path you took to get here, I need you to go back and find another professor and let them know what happened. And then I need you to stay there, where you’ll be safe.”

“No,” I said, surprising myself. My voice was shaky, but I kept going. “No, I’m staying here. He killed Erika. I’m going to help you kill him.”

“Go, Cory,” Romero said. “This is too dangerous for you. The longer you stay out here, the more danger you’re in. Go, now.”

“No.” I took a step forward. There was a tree branch in the snow by my feet. The one I’d rolled over, perhaps. “No, I’m staying.”

I bent down to grab the branch.

“Cory, no!”

I glanced up to see Romero looking at me with worry. And the moment Romero’s eyes moved off him, the other man scooped up the gun and shot Romero.

Romero grunted, stumbling back in the snow. The globe of light winked out. His hands went to his stomach. It was hard to see, but I was pretty sure something was glistening there.

“No!” I cried. Rage and regret filled me with a fury I’d never felt before. I wouldnotlet another person die because of me.

I charged the man with the gun, hitting the side of his face with the tree branch. He gasped in pain, and fresh blood leaked from his cheek. But more importantly, he dropped the gun, and this time I was ready.

I ducked as the man tried to grab me, and when I stood up again, I held the gun in both hands, pointing it at his chest.

I’d never shot anyone before. In my whole life, I’d shot one deer and two turkeys, and I’d hated myself for it each time. But tonight, I didn’t think I cared. Tonight, Iwantedto shoot this man.

“Fuck,” he said, eyeing me as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand. Drops of blood spattered the snow as his hand fell. “Fuck this. I don’t care how badly he wants you. I’m not fucking dying for you.”

My brow furrowed, wondering what he meant. Then I shook my head. It didn’t matter. The man was backing away from me, moving towards the hanging door, still shimmering in midair.

“Stop. Moving.” My voice was cold. Harsh. It sounded like it was coming from another person. I tasted a trickle of my own blood as it ran into my mouth. It was hot and metallic.

The man shook his head, taking another step back. “You’re not gonna do it. You’re not the type.”

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