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22
ADDIE
“Stop!” I commanded.
But it was too late. The portal closed behind him, keeping my arcana from reaching him.
Maddox ran away.
Again.
“Where the hell did you go this time?” I asked the empty air.
And how did he open a portal like that? I reached for the veil only to have it jiggle solidly against my palm. While that sounded wrong, it described the sensation very well. I pressed my hand to the veil that used to be as smooth as fabric. I could no longer push it aside like I once did. The wall between the worlds only opened for gods—and dipshit undead shifters, it seemed.
I stood in the middle of the ring of dead grass and took in the damage I’d wrought. At least, I wasn’t Vi. I wasn’t a wildfire threat. I’d seen her living room, and I was surprised that house was still standing, to be honest.
Inside, I heard the soft vibration of my phone ringing. I found it next to the kettle and was surprised to find Ryder’s number flashing on the screen when I turned it over.
“Can I help you?” I asked, too snide.
I pinched my nose and chastised myself for my tone. Maddox’s internal fight had taken a lot out of me. I felt like a sponge that’d been violently wrung out. Thankfully, there was always more arcana where that came from. It still sat inside me like an iceberg hiding unknown depths beneath black waters.
“I have your man.” Ryder didn’t beat around the bush at all. At first, it sounded like he was trying to hold Maddox at ransom. Then he continued, “He’s going into a silver crate until he can control himself.”
My stomach hit the floor. “A silver crate? Why? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“According to him, he almost killed you. That’s enough for me to make a decision. Ness would have my hide if I let anyone hurt her friends, even your own mate.”
“He’s not my mate. I’m not a shifter, dummy.” Still, my heart thumped excitedly at the thought.
That’s where Maddox went? He tore a hole in the veil between the worlds, so he could put himself in time out? That was oddly sweet. While I was glad that he was seeking help, this was extreme.
“He doesn’t need a silver crate,” I pressed.
Ryder sighed on the other end.
While silence floated over the line, I remembered the night before. The soul-torn shifter was still out there. I couldn’t spend long here or else the shifter might return.
This also meant that Maddox couldn’t intervene if I went to hunt down this shifter on my own. I just had to figure out a way to kill him on my own. If I could do that, then Maddox wouldn’t have to bear the guilt of what needed to be done. This could work in my favor, actually.
I just had to figure out how to kill a shifter who was immune to any kind of arcana. That was easy…right? Not at all.
I should have focused on the task at hand, but my mind kept sliding back to Maddox, shoved into a silver crate. The silver would keep his arcana at bay, so he couldn’t access his other abilities. Which was smart for someone like him, but the silver would also burn. He’d been through enough. He shouldn’t have to hurt just to find balance within himself.
Would silver even work on the soul-torn shifter? Silver blocked arcana, but the soul-torn shifter already did that by shredding the threads of fate. I couldn’t help but wonder if the two things would cancel one another out, or if it would be useless.
There was only one way to find out. And I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to try. To handle this shifter, I would have to lay some sort of trap. I couldn’t think of any way to affect him. He was invincible.
I mean, a gun could do things that magic couldn’t. If I found silver bullets…The Lakesedge Pack would never speak to me again if I brought that anywhere near them.
What was I supposed to do? I had no idea, and no one wanted to help me.
I kicked a nearby chair…but I wasn’t wearing shoes. The chair barely moved, but pain seared my foot. Hissing in pain, I drew back and clutched my throbbing toes.
As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Maddox. He was the only one who could handle the soul-torn shifter. But that put too much responsibility on his shoulders. I couldn’t ask him to set aside his morals. That wasn’t fair.
I wanted him to keep his sense of self intact—well, as intact as it could be after he was changed into an undead shifter capable of jumping through the afterlife.
