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“What happened to Julien?” Bran asked.
“He died. Somebody killed him while he was passed out—with a kitchen knife.”
“Glory, do you know who killed him?” Bran asked the question slowly, so as not to set her off again.
“No—but somebody must have known how horrible he was.”
A shiver raced over me as I realized that she had stabbed him. And I couldn’t say that I didn’t feel sorry for her. She had made a mistake, but the price for it had been steep.
I was nearing the edge of the shed. In a few steps I could grab her, or I could slide around back and come through the shed, sneaking up behind her. That might be the safest route, I thought. Who knew what that wand of hers could do?
I was about to find out, however. She whirled, suddenly realizing that I was there, and she aimed the wand at me and whispered something. I ducked as a massive bolt of lightning came flickering my way. As I leaped behind the shed, it hit a tree and exploded it into smithereens.
Holy fuck, the woman has power!
And ten to one, her mental issues were increasing her range and ability. I raced around behind the shed and burst in the back door. Ahead of me, was the open door and there, was Gloria’s back. As I put on the speed, the wail of sirens echoed from my driveway. Grams and May must have called Daisy.
But I was too close to stop, and if I did, Gloria would have enough time to launch her attack at me. I charged, head down, at full speed, and landed against her, knocking her to the ground. She was wiry, though, and athletic, and she managed to turn over beneath me as I struggled to catch hold of her hands.
We were near a patch of ground ivy, and I did the one thing I could think of.
“Ivy growing wild, on the ground,
Hear my call, hear my plea,
These hands, weave your vines around,
Keep her from attacking me!”
As the ivy began to slither toward us, Gloria let out a scream. She twisted, trying to get away, trying to aim the wand at me. I raised my hand and brought it down, open against her cheeks. My slap was so hard that it echoed through the yard.
“Here,” Bran was kneeling beside me now. As the ivy wound itself around her hands, holding them together in the prayer position, he took the wand from her, tossing it cautiously to the side. She was kicking at him, so I conjured the ivy to hold her feet as well, and when she was fully bound, we sat her up.
She glared at me, the screams fading from her throat. “I can’t believe he chose you. I can’t believe he left me for you. He’s mine, he’s my love. He’s my fiancé.”
I glanced at Bran, who shook his head solemnly. “She needs help.”
“She needs a lot of help, to heal and to come back to herself. If that’s possible.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Daisy’s here, with her men. The fire department too. Twice in one week, aren’t we lucky?”
“I wonder why she didn’t just try to kill me,” I mused.
“I think…somewhere in there, she knows that she’d be going too far. I think killing Julien broke something inside her.” He searched her eyes.
She stared at him, a devoted look on her face. “Bran, you love me, don’t you? You’ll take me back? We could be so happy together.” She hiccupped, her voice fading. “I’m so tired. I’m so tired.”
“I know you are, Gloria. We’re going to get you some help. You’re going to have a nice, long rest, where you can feel better and talk to someone about Julien and everything that happened.” He glanced at me. “She’s firmly bound?”
I nodded. “The ivy’s trussing her up nice and tight. She can’t get away that easily.”
“Then I’m going to talk to Daisy.” He stood, heading over to Daisy. He spoke with her for a moment and then a man and woman came over to where I was sitting, holding Gloria against me so she couldn’t struggle and hurt herself.
Gloria had given up fighting and was now resting against my shoulder, her anger seemingly gone. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly.
“Your name is Elphyra, right?” she asked.
“Yes, my name’s Elphyra.” I shifted so that she could be more comfortable. My heart went out to her. I knew what it was like to lose the love of my life, even if I hadn’t been the one to cause it.
“That’s pretty,” she whispered. “Maybe we can be friends…”
