Page 20 of The Magic of Betrayal
Bryce's eyebrows lifted to his hairline, finally realizing he stood no chance in this fight. The fire that surrounded me began to turn black, white, blue, and purple. Temperatures climbing, the air just giving more fuel, I was reaching cremation level. Vaguely registering the sound of a bike, I advanced on Bryce, one goal in mind.Burn. Burn. Burn.
"Sloane!"
Blinking, my hands were suddenly stretched out in front of my chest, the magic building, ready to launch out and protect me.
"Gods dammit! SLOANE!"
Fischer?
My concentration wavered for just a second and Bryce turned his back and ran away like the fucking rat he was. Glancing behind me, Fischer was standing about fifteen feet back, a panicked look on his face.
"Take a breath, man. He's gone. You know you can't burn people alive in broad daylight, and we're supposed to be blending in. Kill it." His deep, soothing voice had my hackles lowering, the flames shrinking in on themselves.
"He needs to die," I gritted between clenched teeth. Adrenaline still coursing through my bloodstream, the urge to chase him was simmering in my blood.
"Yes. He does. But not like this. Not today. Not where our cover could be blown," Fischer reminded me, and I inhaled a deep breath, letting the flames burn out completely.
"Fuck!" I stalked over to Fish. "He wants to hurt her. I can't allow that. I can't allow him to be in a position to ever hurt any woman again."
Fish nodded, grabbing my wrist and tugging me toward the building. "We should have this discussion in private. You never know who is watching."
Frustrated with myself for losing my head like that in public, I agreed with him with a short nod of my head, letting my feet carry me up to the apartment. Thank fuck my clothes didn’t burn up. I’d learned long ago that I could control the flames, nothing got incinerated without me intending it to, but the moment was so close from getting out of control, it wouldn’t have surprised me if they had burned off. Tugging my shirt off, I tossed it onto the island, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge and chugging over half of it before leaning forward, my forehead pressed against the cool metal of the appliance.
A barstool slid across the laminate, scuffing softly as Fischer thought aloud. "We need to do some more digging into the backstory with the ex. Is he a local? From everything I've seen of the people that live here, his behavior doesn't mesh with the feel of the community."
He was right. It didn't fit. How was it that Red was with this asshole for so long and nobody knew or stepped in? But then, I lived that life, I knew all too well how easy it was for people to look the other way versus sticking their nose where they felt it didn't really belong. How did she get mixed up with a guy like that? She’s stronger than I’d given her credit for because somehow she’d gotten away from him. Something my mother was never capable of doing.Fuck, this is the kind of shit I don’t need to be thinking about.
"We need to figure out what he's up to." I pushed away from the fridge and sat down beside him, finishing the rest of my water. "This is the second time now that one of us has caught him snooping around here and he's very out in the open with how aggressive and abusive he is. Whatever he's up to, it isn't good. He's pretty powerful, too," I gritted out, because it pained me to make it seem like I was giving this idiot a compliment in any way.
"I'll find out where he lives, works, all of that. Once I know his routine, I can see who he talks with, see where he goes, and read his emotions," Fischer offered and I nodded, agreeing with his line of thinking.
"You could always just—"
"No."
"Fischer. He's filth. Scum of the earth. We'd know right away then. I’ll be with you."
"I said no." His tone was firm with an edge to it, one that I knew meant he wasn’t willing to budge an inch.
"Fine. We'll do it your way." I backed off, if he wasn't willing to use his affinity to its fullest extent, then that was on him. Fish was able to insert himself into another person's memories and thoughts. As far as we knew, he was the only mage capable of such a thing, and he used that power as little as possible. The last time he'd done so, we'd been on a mission that ended badly, a lot of people were killed, which wasn't his fault— but he'd gone off the deep end. Scary shit.
Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers tapping rapidly on the countertop, a glazed look to his eyes, a tic in his jaw. He was reliving it.
"Tell me where they are, Chan. We've been at this for days now, we don't need to turn it into weeks," Fischer's rough voice skated across my skin as Cam, Kai, and I looked in on the interrogation through a hole in the wall of the dilapidated warehouse. Chan was cuffed to a chair, his sweat drenched hair hung in his swollen eyes, a waterfall of blood running from his nose and ears, then there was the little matter that he’d nearly bitten his own tongue in half trying to fight Fischer from getting inside his head.
"Fuck. You," Chan grunted. I was surprised the man could still speak.
Chan's organization had been kidnapping witches and mages, studying their powers, experimenting on them. Fucking bastard. One of Radical's spies had gone missing while undercover and we suspected she'd either been made, or was seen as being too tempting of a lab rat to ignore.
Fischer laughed a deep, dark laugh. A laugh that had the hair on my arms raising and Kai's eyebrows lifting. The darkness was coming and if Chan thought things had been bad before, he was about to get a fucking wake up call. We’re the only ones who have ever seen that monster and lived to remember it.
"Just remember, this was your choice, Chan."
Fish sat down in front of our captive in a metal chair.
"Look at me," he ordered. Chan didn't move.
"Look at me!" Fischer's voice was no longer his own, the monster that lived inside of him that he kept on a tight leash was in the room now.
