Page 89 of Shift of Morals
“What did you do to me?” he rasped.
“Nothing you didn’t deserve,” I said sweetly.
His eyes flicked to the bouquet before settling on me once more. In a flash of crimson light, Finn shifted, a black puma stalking toward me.
Primal fear bleated through my bones. No matter how powerful I was, I’d never be unsurprised by a huge ass cat circling around me. Pumas were apex predators, and I was just a girl in a flower store hoping not to get murdered.
I reached for the poisonous vine again, holding it before me like a weapon
Finn chuffed, exposing brilliant white fangs.
The vine reached out and popped the top of Finn’s head twice, reminding me of a pissed-off cat. He screeched and reared back, glistening poison slipping down his face, right into one of his eyes.
Claws sliding on the floor, the cat slammed into the rack of metal cabinets at the back of the kitchen. A thought niggled at the back of my mind, and on a whim, I destroyed the wards holding the bouquet and forced my hand into a tight fist, calling back every bit of life from that damned thing.
My magic was life, bright and green and earthy, but I could also use my power to take that life away. I used this magic onlywhen a plant or animal’s suffering became too much and I knew they wouldn’t make it. But every time I used the power, it took something away from me, a little piece of Evie.
Today was the first time I had no regrets about taking a life. And I had no regrets about taking two.
The bouquet crumbled to ash, a fine layer of black glittering dust on the surface of the worktable. A flash of crimson light and an unending scream I’d hear in my nightmares ricocheted through the room. Finn’s body bowed in a rictus of pain, his mouth wide open, and crimson veins pulsing against every piece of bare skin I could see.
A second later, he was gone.
I sank to my knees, a sob bubbling from my lips. Relief warred with worry because I didn’t believe Finn was dead. Injured, probably severely. But not dead.
I’d never been that lucky.
Rising on shaky legs, I stood there for a long moment, marveling at the fact that I was here. I was alive.
The only thing that could have made it better was if Finn were dead.
Glittering dust lay in a pile on the table. Not liking the look of it, I used a scraper to carefully brush every single bit from the table into a glass jar. I’d give it to Hazel for disposal later. She’d know what to do with it.
Then I went straight to the regular fridge and got myself a bottle of wine.
A few hours later, I stumbled out of the shop, planning to shift into a wren and fly home when I spotted a shadowy figure leaning against my car.
Energy hummed in the air, the god a finely honed weapon. I wasn’t drunk; the wine wasn’t strong enough to affect me much, but I also wasn’t in the mood to deal with the gods. “I’d be annoyed if I were driving home, but I don’t need my car tonight.”
“Too many spirits, little wren?” His teeth flashed white in the dark.
“We both know human wine does little more than give a temporary buzz.”
“True. If you’re nice, I can bring you some better spirits.”
The offer was tempting because there were many nights I wanted to drink myself into oblivion. “I’m always nice,” I said in a shitty tone.
Neit chuckled and snapped his fingers, an amber-colored bottle appearing in his hands.
“I shouldn’t drive this evening, so I can’t carry that home. Normally, I’d leave it in the shop, but…” My voice trailed off.
“Your security is compromised. I heard the commotion.”
I stared at him for a beat. “You could have helped.”
One dark eyebrow lifted, a mocking gesture I wasn’t in the mood for. “My favors don’t come for free.”
Of course not. That’d be too much to ask. “And the booze?”
