Casey finally turns her back on me and wanders off to issue a few lukewarm threats to Isla and Nat, but when I catch Isla’s defiant glare across our makeshift circle, I know she won’t be cowed either.
I lift a brow in question, and she nods, magick rippling before her like a heatwave. I can feel it simmering in the air like the moments before a lightning strike—the pungent smell of ozone, the sharpening of the senses, an invisible current strong enough to raise the hairs on my arms.
Casey and Janelle should be able to sense it, but they’re either too amped up to notice, or too confident in their weapons to worry about it.
Theyshouldbe worried, though. Isla and Nat, the professors, me—we’re all gearing up for a fight. And though we may not be able to hear one another’s thoughts, one thing is certain: when it comes to taking these bitches down, we’re all working from the same playbook.
Isla holds my gaze a moment longer, and I give her a quick nod before glancing down at Cass.
In the center of our circle, he and the other professors are huddled closely on the ground. At first glance, it appears they’re just watching over Stevie and the guys. But I know how Cass’s mind works; he’s gearing up to make a move too. I can tell the moment the magickally charged air hits him; he glances up at Isla, then at me, his eyes narrowing as he tries to pinpoint the source.
He gives me an almost imperceptible shake of the head, but I’ve got a plan, and I won’t be deterred. Seeing Casey and Janelle threaten my brothers flipped a switch inside me, then broke it clean off. There’s no going back.
I glare at Cass, imploring him to focus on our friends and leave the rest to me.
He holds my gaze another moment, then sighs, finally returning his attention to Stevie and the guys.
Janelle and Casey are bickering now, impatient and bored as they pace around our circle. I don’t know which one of them is the ringleader here, but their plan is obviously rushed and half-assed, and it’s clear they don’t trust each other. Despite the guns, both women are distracted, antsy, and quickly losing their edge. They’re so fixated on the promise of the Sword, on their swift victory, it doesn’t even occur to them that any of us might be plotting against them.
That they themselves are likely plotting against each other.
It’s time to end this.
I shake out my arms and blow out a swift breath. Beneath my feet, red dust rises in tiny eddies, drawn to the magick simmering inside me.
“What did I tell you, Red?” Casey’s got me in her sights again, and now she crosses back to me, waving the gun in my face. “You seem twitchy. I don’t like twitchy.”
“Twitchy? Maybe I’m just allergic to death threats.”
“Don’t push it,” she snaps.
“Sorry, sorry.” I flash her a grin and a wink, raising my hands in mock surrender. The Ace of Wands card flickers into my mind’s eye, an image of a powerful wooden staff thrusting upward from a massive stone crevice, the sun blazing overhead. It’s the ultimate Big Dick Energy card, and I can’t help but feel that energy coursing through my veins now, throbbing in my gut, everything in me winding tighter and tighter…
Fire magick prickles across my skin, itching to be unleashed.
Casey narrows her eyes, a shadow crossing her face. “Red?”
“Yes, Miss Appleton?” I’m all smiles, all teeth.
“We’ve got guns,” she says, raising hers to eye level as if I’ve somehow forgotten this crucial piece of information. “And I can beverydangerous when provoked.”
“Fair point.” I consider the warning, then shrug. “But here’s the thing, Miss Appleton.I’vegot fire. And you can go fuck yourself.”
Faster than lightning, I call upon the magick of the Ace and recite a spell, my hands trembling with potential magick, my cock hard with so much unspent energy, my voice so fevered even Cass’s eyes go wide with shock.
Flames of fury, flames of rage
From spark to fire, forge this cage
Burn the skies and scorch the ground
Their blackened hearts shall now be bound
Blue and silver flames crawl along my palms, quickly engulfing my hands, my arms. Casey steps closer, her mouth twisting with anger and fear, but she can’t touch me now.
No one can.
Closing my eyes, I dig deep in my subconscious, mining the oldest hurts, the rage, the betrayal, the loss, the steady diet of neglect and blame my mother fed me. I call up memories of razor blades and pills, the sharp sting of the blade slicing against my wrist, the bright red of the blood that welled up, the fear and shame that always forced me to stay my hand. I remember her cruel words, my father’s coldness, the bitterness that hardened my baby sister’s heart until even that sweet little girl could no longer stand the sight of me.
