Page 72 of Runaway Magic
“I wasn’t sure if you would get it, but when I heard Mother and Aunt Stella talking about getting rid of you, I panicked. I had to do something.”
“You thought I was the reason bad things were happening in our family, and you still wanted to help me. Oh Ster…” The dull roar of heartache that had been his constant companion since he had been forced to flee for his life stuttered. Sterling didn’t want him dead.
“Of course I did. I love you, Sunny.”
Tears burned in the corners of Cym’s eyes. The rest of his family might be clamoring for his blood, but his brother still loved him. It was a start.
“If you two are done bonding, maybe you could see if your brother could do something about your mother there.” Fourteen walked over to Cym’s crate and nudged the body beside it with a toe. Behind him, his half of the garage had been completely destroyed, while Cym’s side had remained relatively untouched. Cym wondered if Fourteen had purposefully kept the fighting contained to his side for Cym’s safety.
“That isnotour mother,” Cym said, trying not to swoon over the idea of Fourteen being so sweet even after Cym had ditched him so cruelly. “Thatthinghasn’t been our mother for a long time. But you’re right, we need to do something about her. I don’t know what she’s going to be like when she wakes up—if she wakes up—but tying her up might not be enough.”
“He’s right. Mother—or whatever is in there—is strong enough to cast spells without using her hands.” Sterling frowned, thinking. “Actually, I might be able to do something, but I’ll need you to move her away from Cymbeline.” He aimed a half smile at Cym in apology.
Fourteen leaned down and took hold of one of the woman’s arms, but he paused. “Are you sure you trust him?”
Cym considered. Fourteen had a point; it could be a trap. It was entirely possible Cym was letting his desire to have at least one family member on his side cloud his judgment. But what about the note Sterling mentioned? Cym had taken it with him, and only the person who had left it would have known of its existence. “Yes, I trust him.”
The hesitant smile Sterling gave him burned away any lingering doubts he’d had.
Fourteen simply nodded and hauled the imposter’s body over to Sterling, dropping it to the floor at his feet with a faint look of disgust. “What can you do?
Sterling regarded the woman he had thought to be his mother and turned even greener. “I don’t know if it will work, but if a witch has a connection to someone, emotional, spiritual, or through blood, they should be able to share their power. Since she’s both my mother and great-whatever grandmother, I might be able to tap her power and limit her in what she can do. If I can drain her enough, it should be safe to tie her up. I’m just glad she’s unconscious because this would be impossible if she was awake.”
“I could kill her.” It was so very Fourteen to bring up the elephant in the room without batting an eye.
As tempting as it was to solve the problem of Hester in a more permanent fashion, Cym didn’t have it in him to allow Fourteen to kill a defenseless person in cold blood. “Let’s let Sterling try before we go too far down that rabbit hole.”
Sterling nodded in agreement then bent over Hester, placed a hand on her head, and closed his eyes, concentrating.
Looking back at Cym in his crate, Fourteen frowned, then gave a muffled swear. “I can’t believe you did this to yourself.” With two long strides, he was at Cym’s side, eyes boring into his coldly.
“And I can’t believe you allowed yourself to get captured just to find me,” Cym retorted.
“At least what I did was actually useful. This?” Fourteen gestured to Cym’s mangled arm and equally mangled and trapped leg. “This served no purpose at all.”
“I was trying to escape!”
“You didn’t need to. I would have gotten you out.”
“I was worried about you, okay? I was afraid they would hurt you, you idiot. Though now I wished I hadn’t bothered,” Cym grumbled.
Fourteen’s face softened. It was only a tiny bit, but it gave Cym hope that Fourteen wouldn’t ditch him at the first opportunity once they escaped.
“You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know. I’m more durable than you are.” Fourteen yanked at the padlock on the crate, and while the metal creaked alarmingly, it refused to give way. Fourteen gave it an icy stare for a moment like he could cow it into submission, then said, “I don’t want to waste time picking this lock. Just stay still, okay?”
Mystified, Cym complied and held as still as his loudly complaining body would allow.
Fourteen gripped the twisted metal trapping Cym’s foot and pried it apart, freeing him. “Okay, scoot back as far as you can.” Grabbing one bar with both hands, Fourteen sat down and put a foot on the bar opposite and pushed out with his leg. The side of the crate peeled away like the top of a sardine can with an ear-piercing shriek.
“Gods, can all norms do that?” Sterling asked in a reverent tone.
Cym smiled, feeling proprietary. “This one can.”
Fourteen shrugged. “I work out.”
“Riiight.” Sterling drew out the word into two syllables, his brows raised over wide green eyes. “Okay, so I’ve taken as much as I can without killing Hester. I think she’s safe to tie up.”
Fourteen located a rope on a nearby workbench and tossed it to Sterling, then turned back to Cym and asked, “Can you crawl out?” The crate was too small for anyone to come in and help him out, and his demeanor suggested he would tear the entire crate apart if Cym’s answer was no.
