Page 48 of Snake Eyes & Bad Luck

Her father would be pissed. And that made her giggle. It bubbled up in her aching chest as she lay fully against the cold stone. The roar of fighting behind her was nothing more than a dull hum as the manic laughter filled her to the brim. Fuck my rib hurts. It panged hard but she couldn’t stop cackling as Murderin’ Mary and the poor fools she turned into her pawns lumbered forward.

“What are you gigglin’ about, warlock?” Mary snapped.

“Oh,” she trailed off with a sigh. The pain in her rib turned into a sharp, sudden stab. It jerked her upright, and without realizing, she had her other hand pointed at them. The forefinger with the foreign bone was slightly curved. Ridges where her skin was sewn back together bubbled up and the skin peeled back, revealing the aged bone beneath. Mary lurched backward, hugging her skull to her chest. Avelina giggled the whole time the magic surged around her torso. The undead ran at her. Their armor clanked against each other; they were barely able to fit two next to each other as they barreled down on her. The second pain to her rib was cold…as death. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Green light engulfed the whole alley. It burned through the stone, eating away at the undead’s armor. Her magic even nibbled at her own skin. It shot out of her and exploded much in the same way the amulet had, filling every nook and cranny with the sickly green light. Like a paladin of SunBringer…Catalysta, this is just sacrilegious. It was heresy. It was mockery. And it saved her life as the light finally dimmed and there was nothing left but smoking bones. The skull Mary clutched only partially remained, the part covered up by her hands and torso. Avelina’s nose burned from the stench of cooked flesh.

She stumbled forward a step, kicking aside hot bones.

“Oh no you don’t.” A familiar snarl tickled her ears and someone snatched her by the back of the head. Damnit, Grahm! Avelina wrenched backward in his grasp, hands up to protect herself. She didn’t even have a chance to curse him out, let alone claw his eyes out as he slammed her head into the brick wall.

Her candle was snuffed out and the world went dark.

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Callum

Callum wiped Barnaby’s blood off his dagger. The dupe tail slung over his shoulder and the carriage ransacked for any other things he might need, Callum was ready to leave. The heist was in progress. He shouldn’t care what was going on, but he did. He wondered how Avelina was doing. If she was going along obediently or if she was fighting Grahm tooth and nail. Like she does to me, but at least when I’m there, it’s fun.

No, he reminded himself. She’s not fun. She’s a burden. We’re getting rid of a burden.

His one-way ticket to a free life was within reach. All he had to do was forget about the woman down there with his crew. Easy enough, he lied to himself. He just needed to keep lying till it became true. I don’t care about her. I find her burdensome. I don’t… But even he couldn’t come to think the words ‘care if she lives or dies’. He did care. He cared so much he made Grahm take care of her.

Because if Callum had to put her on that train, then he’d get aboard.

Worry was a pit in his stomach he tried to outmaneuver. The carcass slung over his shoulder weighed nothing compared to the ceaseless thoughts about Avelina. The darkness, did she cast it? Was she safe still? That moment where it was just them, where she almost asked him to explain, his lungs seized up. His little viper had a backbone. A spiked one, at that, she looked ready to tear his head off.

His little viper, huh? Shit.

Get out now. Time was ticking and soon the slumbering Stronghold would realize there was a ruckus near the vault. They’d swarm and there would be no getting out of it. He needed to leave.

Callum tossed the hunk of tail into an alley near to the heist, as near as he could get without being dragged into it, along with his bloodied clothes. Pulling on a clean shirt and vest, he tucked his belts into a satchel he slung over his shoulder. Look at me? A new man. Or soon would be.

Sliding through the dark, he followed the empty streets of Parandor up to the northern train station. During the day, up until the moment the moon rose over the lip of the walls, the Stronghold was a buzzing beehive. When they arrived, all the refugees were clogging up streets. Everyone searching for a home to hunker down in; it was a chaotic circus. The perfect disguise.

Then the sun set fully and Parandor tucked itself in for the night. Most of the torches were out. The ones still alive burned low in front of taverns or inns. He kept out of the glow to the best of his abilities. There were a few stragglers here or there, and he held his breath as one or two patrolling guards wandered the streets.

But to his delight, the city let him pass through unnoticed. His pride surged. See, darlin’. Easy as pie. How she’d wrinkle her nose at the thought. He’d gotten through the whole city and not a single sideways glance. The look on her face would be priceless.

Callum stopped outside the glow of all the lanterns around the train station. His heart gripped him. Damnit. He glanced back over his shoulder. The Stronghold was quiet, no rushing Paladins in full platemail, no screaming alarms, it’s like the heist wasn’t happening.

I should make sure Grahm keeps his word. Spineless fool, his priorities are always all over the place. Grahm never took anything seriously enough. It’s why he was still under Callum’s thumb. He didn’t have the grit to do what Callum did, he could never be Cottonmouth. Or Mad Madeline or Murderin’ Mary…he could probably do better than Daggertooth. Callum licked his lips nervously. The pull came from deep in his gut. A line drawn between him and his warlock tugged him toward the darkened city.

Get out! The lure of checking on her was precisely the reason he needed to go! He’d spend a lifetime worried if she made it out of the city. Fuck. He surged out into the light. His tail flicked irritably behind him as he followed a trundling family through the gateway to the ticket booth. A little girl clung to her mother’s hand, a daemon family with royal blue skin and purple horns. The boy snoring on his father’s shoulder had a crown of little horns that held back wavy black hair.

Cute… He shook his head, tearing his attention away from the domestic view in front of him. They made a pretty picture. This is all her fault. Avelina made him think of the future, of things other than him…of how sweet it might be to see her holding a little bundle. Of course, that was a foolish idea, their life wouldn’t allow for the safety required to rear children responsibly.

I’ve never thought of children before. He glanced up at the family in line in front of him. The little girl peered through her mother’s sleeve at him. Big, pink eyes that glowed as if backlit by candles, she bore through him. A crystal-clear windowpane, that child saw directly through him and he flinched backward because of it.

Avelina would make pretty children. Her round face, slightly upturned nose, a tiny version of her would be pudgy and adorable. Hopefully none of them had his features. His heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with the little girl. Why would her kids have my features? Because even in his silliest of fantasies, he could only imagine her with him.

A strong sense of possessiveness filled his belly as he considered Avelina’s life after the heist. After waking up in the capital city with nothing but the clothes on her back. She would still be a warlock—she could never return to her previous life. There, of course, was the best friend to consider. But where would she go? Would she disappear into the continent, pop up with a new name and no past in one of the other cities that didn’t care about Paladins or warlocks or the SunBringer? Would she find someone else?

That made his teeth clench and fists curl. He looked away from the kid again. Whatever Avelina did after was not his concern. If she made it out alive was not his concern. Avelina was no longer his concern. Just he…himself…and—

“What do you mean the trains aren’t leaving?” The family and Callum perked up as the woman at the ticket counter grew shrill. “I am due to be home for my grandbaby. I cannot be stuck here when I’m needed there.”

“I am so sorry, ma’am, but we’ve been told not to board anyone else on the night train. There’s been an attack on the vault. The Stronghold is on lockdown.”