“Say goodnight, Rosie,” Jasmine singsongs.
The serpent lunges, and I brace for its bite. But then it is inexplicably knocked aside by a blast of blue light. I whirl around to see who cast it and find myself staring at the last person I’d expect.
Thorne.
She stands at the edge of the circle. “That’s cheating,” she says, her voice carrying across the suddenly silent Hall. “Using your familiar? Really, Headmistress? If you can’t win fairly, you shouldn’t win at all.”
Jasmine’s expression is apoplectic. “You dare?—”
“I dare,” Thorne interrupts. “You killed Ella. And Mickey. And everyone else who’s gone missing. I know.” Her voice breaks slightly. “I know what you did to them. And you were going to do it to me.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd. Thorne looks at me, and for the first time, there’s no hatred in her eyes. Just decision.
“Get up, Rose,” she says. That might be the first time she’s called me by my actual name.
I push myself to my feet. Jasmine’s attention is split now between me and Thorne, her face red and furious.
“Traitor!” she screams at Thorne.
Jasmine raises her hands, preparing to strike at Thorne, and I seize the opportunity. I gather every bit of magic I can, forming it into a single, concentrated beam of pure, natural power. It shoots from my hands, golden and blinding, and hits Jasmine square in the chest.
She screams, a sound that doesn’t seem human, as the magic lifts her off her feet. Her body convulses, and I see something dark and oily being forced out of her, like my magic is purging the corruption she’s consumed.
The serpent familiar thrashes on the ground, but Thorne keeps it at bay with her own magic, preventing it from coming to its mistress’s aid.
But it’s not enough.
Jasmine is too powerful now.
Thirty-Nine
Rose
Jasmine’s dark magic rams into me again, and this time something cracks inside my body. When the pain hits, I know I’m in trouble. Big trouble. The kind where you don’t walk away.
Jasmine sees it too. “After all the fuss everyone’s made about you, I expected more, honestly.”
I try to gather more magic, reaching deep inside myself for any reserves I might have left. But I’m running on fumes, each breath harder than the last.
“You should see your face,” Jasmine says with a childish snicker. “So serious!”
I look past her, trying to spot my guys. Drake is on his feet now, eyes wild with panic as he tries to push through some kind of invisible barrier Jasmine has created around our fighting space. Lucien is beside him, blood staining his white shirt where the wood splintered into his shoulder, but I know it’s likely healed by now. Soren’s face is pure rage, like he would drag Jasmine to hell right now if he could. And Ash’s entire is body rigid with furyas he throws himself against the magical barrier again and again, the blood mark on my arm burning with his desperation.
None of them can reach me. I’m on my own.
I can’t let her see how scared I am. “All that stolen magic is eating you alive. Look at you. You’re corrupted. Wrong.”
It’s true. Up close, Jasmine’s skin has a strange, waxy quality to it, and there’s a jerking in her movements.
My words hit a nerve. She flings both hands forward. A wave of rotten magic slams into me, the force of it sends me flying backward. I hit the floor hard, my head cracking against the wood, and for a moment everything goes black around the edges. I touch the back of my head, and it’s warm and wet.
“Rose!” I hear Drake’s voice.
I push myself up onto my elbows as Jasmine stalks toward me, gathering another spell between her fingers.
“I think I’ll start with your heart. They say the heart of a natural witch keeps beating for hours after it’s removed.” She pauses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe your eyes first? I’ve always been partial to eyes. Love the way you can just pop them between your teeth.”
I try to will my magic up again, and I can feel it there, but I can’t focus enough to direct it, can’t shape it into anything useful. I’m exhausted.
