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The magic wrapping around his waist began to crackle and sizzle as my anger infused it again. I brought him a little closer and leaned in, my face just inches from the side of his. “I know what you were planning. I know what you wanted to do to me, what your version of ‘fun’ entails. How many girls have you done that too?”
His head snapped toward mine, a sneer contorting his features. “Don’t flatter yourself, little girl.”
I didn’t have to be psychic or magical to know what men like that did to women like me—and even worse, to women who couldn’t protect themselves like I could. The cracking and sizzling of magic got louder and louder as my hand curled into a fist. Pulling it back, I punched him as hard as I could in the stomach. His feet left the ground, and he slammed into the brick wall behind him, knocking chunks of it loose. They fell alongside him as he crumpled in a heap, wheezing as his chest heaved.
My anger intermingled with a heavy dose of disgust, and I gathered the saliva left in my mouth and spit on him. “If you survive this, and I ever see you try to hurt another woman again, I will pick you apart one piece at a time.”
The whimpering of the guy I was still holding in the air drew my attention, and I scowled, shaking my head.. I knew exactly which one he was in the group. He was the new guy, the one looking for friends, the one that hadn’t actually seen anything bad before but didn’t want to look like a pussy. Carefully, I lowered him back down to the ground, keeping my gaze frozen on him.
I released the magic from his waist and swept my arm in a wide arc, using my magic to backhand him. The colors burst and swirled as they slammed into his face, knocking him to the ground. He gasped and coughed, struggling to rise to his hands and knees. Hurrying forward, I leaned down on one knee and whispered in his ear.
“You need to learn how to choose your friends better. Now you know what happens when you mess with the wrong person.”
Grabbing him by the tuft of hair on the top of his head, I smacked it against the asphalt, knocking him out. As I stood back up, I breathed slow and deep, keeping my eyes closed. When I opened them again, I watched as the rivulets of light retracted, retreating back into my body. My mind went clear again, and I looked around me. There was blood on the ground, blood on the wall, and the sound of wheezing coming from three of the four guys. The one in the dumpster made no sound at all.
The reality of what’d just happened slammed into me so hard I almost fell over. I choked and retched, bending over and putting my hands on my knees.
What the hell did I just do? How did I do that?
I’d never wanted magic. And I’d never shown any sign I had magic until tonight. Anxiety was bubbling up inside me again, and I had a sudden flash of fear as I thought about what could’ve happened—what I could’ve done with magic I didn’t even understand. I loved a good fight, but I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, and I could’ve easily killed those four men.
I was starting to lose control of my emotions again, and I sucked in a breath through my nose. The low lives around me weren’t dead, thank fuck. But I needed to get the hell out of here.
Gripping the envelope I’d shoved into the pocket of my leather jacket, I took off down the alley, leaving them there. I jogged all the way back to my apartment, keeping my hood up and not even looking around at the people I passed. My hands shook as I shoved the key in the door, finally getting it open and slamming it shut behind me. I put the chain lock on, flipped the deadbolt on the door, and wiggled the handle as if I was running from something.
But the something I was fleeing had come from inside of me, where I hadn’t even known it existed.
I stood there with my back against the door for several moments, catching my breath and calming my nerves. I turned my hands over in front of me, but there were no remnants of the magic I had seen. With shaking knees, I walked to my bedroom, yanking off my boots and throwing them into the corner. It had been far too long of a day, and I had no idea how to explain what’d just happened.
“Just get some sleep, just get some sleep,” I repeated to myself over and over again. “You’ll wake up in the morning, and you’ll be fine.”
Maybe one of the dark mages in the audience tonight had put a curse on me or something. Most of the audience loved to see me fight and win, but there were a few who hated that the Ringmaster had
let a woman fight. Maybe some mage had bet against me and been pissed when he’d lost?
If it’s a curse, I fucking hope it wears off soon.
No new magic was leaking from my fingers, and the giddy, strung out feeling had left my body, leaving behind only exhaustion. I climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up over my shoulders. My body relaxed, and even though I was still in shock, I began to drift off to asleep.
As my eyes closed, a slight tingling feeling moved through my arms and hands again, and when I forced my lids open, I saw a soft light emanating from my skin just like it had in the alley.
Ah, fuck.
A wave of fear came over me, but the exhaustion was more than I could handle. I had never felt so tired in my life, as if I’d used up all but the last shreds of my energy in the alley.
I tried to wake myself up, to stop the magic that was flowing out of me, but before I could even move, blackness pulled me under.
Chapter Three
Morning light peeked through the cracks in the broken and grimy blinds that hung on the only window in my downstairs apartment. It was the window on my front door, which led to the short flight of steps up to the street.
I sat at my kitchen table, my head down, a bowl of cereal in front of me. I didn’t feel any better.
Dammit, I was supposed to feel better this morning. It was all supposed to be fixed.
I’d passed out before I could do anything about the magic that’d started radiating from me again. When I’d woken up with a start sometime around ten a.m., I had checked everything in the entire apartment, but nothing seemed to be out of place. Wherever the magic had gone, whatever it’d been doing while I slept, it had left no mark.
Sinking my spoon into the bowl, I raised a heaping bite to my mouth. It was crunchy and sweet, but I barely tasted it. I had tugged my jet black hair into a rough ponytail and thrown on a different sweatshirt and a pair of leggings when I’d hauled my sorry ass out of bed. My favorite jeans were soaking in the sink, the water red from the blood that had soaked into the fabric when I’d broken that man’s nose.
