Page 22 of Tragic Ink
“Okay,” Rhys said, his gaze hard. His eyes glinted in the darkness of the truck, and I didn’t miss the edge of danger he wore now like a second skin. I’d never seen him fight, but I knew instinctively in that moment that Rhys could take down anyone or anything that threatenedme.
Anything but my own magic, anyway. No one could save me fromthat.
The thought depressed me. But then the pain took over again, and everything else faded. The hellhound was seconds away from separating itself from my body. Which meant the magic being used to activate it was almost complete. This time, I let it happen. When the ink on my side disappeared, I blinked and looked up. Through the window of the truck, I saw it pass through the passenger door beside me and out onto the empty street beyond. Nothing more than a gray shadow of a creature, but I knew better than anyone how lethal it would be against whatever it was aimedat.
“There,” I said. “He’s headed for the west side oftown.”
“Shit,” Rhys breathed again as he stared at the ghostly form of the hellhound. “He’sfast.”
“We have to hurry, Rhys,” Iurged.
Rhys blinked, then punched the gas, and we shotoff.
If we were lucky, we’d get there in time to stop history from repeating itself. If we weren’t... someone else might die tonight. And it was all my fault. My gift had once again become acurse.
