“You’re unhinged,” Katherine snarled. “You think being able to murder a kid without feeling remorse makes you strong? That makes you weak. Small.Worthless.”
Sylvia surged up and slapped Katherine, hard. Katherine reeled back, her eyes watering.
“I made you.” Bits of Sylvia’s spit landed on Katherine’s face as she spoke. “I fought for you. I found you, protected you, taught you.Raisedyou. Every bit of my soul I poured into you. And you don’t appreciate it.”
Katherine stared at her, unblinking. “I won’t let you commit murder in my name.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
With that, Sylvia forced herself back into her seat. She rubbed her hand on her temple, bits of magic sparking at her fingers. She felt Katherine’s eyes on it. Could hear her unspoken questions—how could Sylvia want this? How could she have chosen to take this power back, when it caused so much pain?
That was the difference between her and Katherine. Katherine had never been powerless. Katherine had come from a loving family, a stable home where the worst thing that had ever happened to her was a C on a math test. When her unsettled magic flared, she saw it as a curse.
Sylvia knew it was a gift. Knew that having power, no matter how volatile, was infinitely better than the alternative.
“You’ll be tried for Lily’s death,” Sylvia said, keeping her voice asflat as she could. “And you’ll be convicted. You’ll lose your magic. Go to jail. Your life as you know it is over, Katherine.”
Katherine fought at the ropes again, but Sylvia knew she wouldn’t get anywhere. “I’ll tell them it was you.”
“It won’t matter.” Red sparks flared from Sylvia’s hand. “You attacked a coven member without cause. Byron has been parading around telling everyone here what you did, and considering most of them weren’t fans of yours to begin with…”
She paused, collecting herself as she sat in the stark gaze of Katherine’s pain. “One more chance, Katherine,” she said, knowing her protégé wouldn’t take it. “Join me. Help me put an end to the system that has put witches like us down for so long.”
Katherine didn’t respond, but her face made it clear—she would not be joining Sylvia.
Fine. Sylvia had plans, and those plans would be more effective done alone.
She was back to having nothing to lose. Back to it being her and her magic against the world. Back to being free.
And she was going to use that freedom to do something extraordinary. Something that would make her instrumental. Important.
Loved.
She stood and raised her hand, the magic ropes shifting under her power.
“I’m going to do what I have to, and I’m not going to let you stand in my way,” she told Katherine. “Youare going to walk back to your cell without causing any trouble, and then you’re going to sit and wait for the trial where I’ll take away your magic forever. If you try to resist in any way, I’ll be forced to make sure that Fiona and Tess suffer for your missteps.” She paused, then added, “And your family too. Your poor parents, that clueless brother of yours. Scorched earth, Katherine. Do you understand?”
Katherine nodded, her face tight. “You’re a monster.”
“Yes,” Sylvia said, acting like Katherine’s words didn’t hurt. “So don’t make me act monstrously.”
Sylvia pulled the ropes away, the power absorbing back into her, rejoining that seemingly endless well, leaving just one keeping Katherine’s wrists tied together. She walked, pulling Katherine behind her. Katherine let herself be walked downstairs, let herself be thrown back into that room, let herself be left behind while Sylvia headed out to make her new world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Sylvia stood on top of the hill in Griffith Park and surveyed her kingdom.
She had fought and clawed for this city, but over the years, it had turned from her playground to her cage. Noctis had penned her here, giving her control over this small sandbox while they built a world she wasn’t allowed to touch.
But Sylvia’s power was no longer small. Sylvia’s power was now boundless—and so was she.
The world belonged to her. It was time for her to announce that.
She bent down, burrowing her hands into the dirt as she called her power to the surface. It came so easily. No more digging. No more pulling. She simply jumped, and there it was. Like she was a kid again, fire in her bones, burning pain for her and her alone.
She would let her fire scorch today. She would let it rant and rage and destroy everything in its path, and then she would let it raise something new.
She was alone up here—she’d snuck off the beaten path half a mile back, landing in a copse of trees littered with cigarette butts and broken beer bottles. But she could see the tiny dots of ordinaries below, hiking and picnicking and doing all of the other ordinary activities that made up their insignificant lives. She could feel their energy, her magic roiling from the proximity. It wanted so badly to escape.
