Page 70 of Wrongfully Magicked
The dark green tinge to her skin fades, leaving an almost attractive green blush. Her pixie white hair is streaked a teal green that no dye can duplicate. Even with the change, her head remains slightly too big, and her eyes dominate her face. The upturned tip of her nose gives her a cute appearance.
She’s slim, almost delicate, giving her an overall anime look.
She’s absolutely adorable.
An iridescent butterfly flutters into view, then lands on her shoulder, completing the deceptively guileless appearance.
If I didn’t know better, I would mistake her for an innocent.
It’s the perfect camouflage.
She clears her throat, peering up at me from under long, dark green tinted lashes, then she licks her lips. “My name is Gwen.”
It’s an olive branch, an offer of peace and friendship, and I dip my head in acknowledgment. “Anita.”
When she smiles, her teeth are a little too sharp—a reminder of the predator lurking beneath. Knowing she’s not as weak or helpless as she appears, part of me relaxes, and I nod. “What do you say we get out of here?”
Her smile widens, the tense set of her shoulders relaxes infinitesimally, and she winks. “Hell yeah! I’m more than ready to leave this horror show. Please tell me we’re going to go fuck some shit up!”
My smile is slow to form, and I nod. “We need to go rescue the others and dole out a little payback.”
I’m done running.
It’s gotten me nothing but pain.
It’s time to fight back, starting with my family, and I smile in anticipation. If they thought I was going to meekly allow them to hand me over to their demon master, then they are crazier than I thought. “Let’s go hunting.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
PORTER
Asharp whistle pierces the air. Our attackers immediately stop, then turn tail and flee. They don’t pause, don’t throw another fist, they just run, scattering in every direction and disappearing into the trees within seconds.
Soren releases a menacing howl, but instead of giving chase, he morphs back into his human form and stalks toward us, his naked body covered liberally in blood. Cassius drops the limp beastling in his grip, the corpse hitting the ground with a meaty thump.
Bodies litter the area.
Since beastlings have an amazing ability to heal, not all of them are dead, but their recovery will take a long time.
I should feel victorious, but I’m worried.
They only retreated because they got what they wanted—Anita.
I turn toward Soren as he pulls a pair of sweats he took from the overturned truck and yanks them over his ass. “Are you able to track Anita or Darby?”
Soren tips his head back, lifting his nose into the air, then he scowls and stomps back and forth over the area. His movements become more aggressive the longer he searches, then he snarls in frustration. “Their scent is too diluted. The beastlings sprayed the area and eradicated any trace of them.”
My shadows writhe around me in agitation, and I hurry in the direction I last saw them go. “They headed this way.”
“They’ve been gone for over an hour. They could be anywhere.” Cassius hisses in annoyance, the ominous rasp of his basilisk hovering in his voice, and he stays right on my heels. His body is rigid, his beast coiled and ready to spring into action. As the trail diverges more, it becomes harder and harder to see any path at all.
I scatter my shadows along the ground, but they don’t go far.
I’m too weak and have expended too much energy.
The fight took more out of me than what was wise, and it’s a struggle to hold my human form. The only thing keeping me together, literally, is knowing that if I change forms, I’ll be useless until nightfall.
While I normally enjoy being a boogeyman, all beastlings have some sort of limitations, and I’m not blind to my own. Darkness is my domain, which leaves me vulnerable during daylight, and I curse my weakness now.
