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“Your powers of observation are outstanding,” I said. “Quick, what color is the wall or the sky or your piss?”
Ram ignored my snark. “What is a beaver doing in here?”
“She committed a crime,” I said as though it was obvious and made sense.
Ram gaped. “Even with our seriously flawed system, they wouldn’t imprison a normal animal. Is she a shifter? Did she beat the ward?”
I could hear the need in his voice, the never-ending thirst to feel magic’s touch heating your blood, goosebumping your skin, shaping your body and the world to your whims. The same need that ached in me.
Three cronies, including Ol’ Two-Eyes with the glasses tattoo, stepped toward Beverly as though drawn by a magnet. I shifted closer to her. So did Jag.
“Are you not enjoying the lack of magic?” I said to Ram. “This is the world you wanted.”
He had planned to strip paranormals of their magic using an ancient relic, which had apparently been made out of the nut of some old god. Juniper, her bed buddies, some ghost pirates, and I had destroyed it.
His followers gaped at him.
“Is that true?” Two-Eyes said.
Ram tensed. “I never planned to rob anyone of what makes them special, Alyssa.”
He was lying, and we both knew it. Those words were for his cronies, and they’d believe it because Ram wasn’t in here for that particular set of crimes and because he was skilled at making the lost feel valued.
But the rage that lit up my chest was as sudden as dropping a match on dry grass, because I had fallen for his “oh, you’re special” ploy just like these self-hating bastards were.
“The only people you think are special are the ones you can use, Ram. They’ll realize that eventually, like we all did.”
Well, except for Azea, Brownshill, and a few others who kept attacking Juniper and sending me threatening letters. They were still bitter about us breaking up Ram’s gang and plans.
Sorrow crept into Ram’s dark eyes even though his smile remained. “I never believed that.”
“I bet you’ve never taken a shit either.”
Jag chuckled, but Ram’s cronies weren’t so amused.
“Enough of this. Get the shifter,” Two-Eyes said. “We’ll make her tell us how she beat the ward.”
Two-Eyes and the three other henchmen surged toward Beverly.
She smacked her tail on the floor with a bang and scurried down the hall. Jag leaped in front of Two-Eyes and Aquamarine with his arms outstretched to block their path. They hesitated as though not sure how to take down a single guy.
The thing with most magic users was that without magic, they didn’t know how to fight. At all. I had seen hardened criminals in this place devolve into slap fights like little kids. But I was a dark magic user. My parents, teachers, and the world in general had told little Alyssa that her magic was wrong. Bad.
So for years, I had tried not to use it. But that didn’t stop the other kids from bullying me for being a dark magic user whose existence would only cause war and ruin.
Grabbing one of the umbrellas by the pointy end, I swung it, hooking its curved handle around Two-Eyes’ neck. I yanked with all my weight.
He crashed to the floor, coughing and holding his throat. Then, all hell broke free like a water balloon bursting if it was full of liquid shit.
“Everyone, calm down.” Ram was shouting, but no one gave a fuck.
It would have been satisfying to watch his followers ignore his orders, except that one of them jumped me from behind, wrapping their arm around my throat and squeezing until I couldn’t suck down air. If I had my magic, they’d already be dead, turned into a bug I could crush under my heel like a cigarette butt.
I made a fist and swung it backward at my assailant’s crotch. My hand slammed into flat flesh. Great, my attacker was a woman, and she wasn’t going down as easily as a salami swinger.
She grunted and jerked, and I slammed her pussy again. She cried out.
A dark-skinned man with a shaved head grabbed one of my dropped umbrellas and swung it at my face. I closed my eyes, but the strike didn’t land. Instead, I heard a roar of rage and a thump.
