They are no match for Ethpeal’s sorcery, but it’s not her I’m worried about. I raise one hand to stop her as she gestures, a sheet of black flame twisting outward from her feet as the trio of Dumonts come to a skidding halt on the slick grass.
“They belong to me.” I don’t meet her eyes, don’t need to. I can feel her power retreating, surrounding me even as Andre pales, damaged face mottled with crusted pus, eyes bulging at the sight of me. He knows he’s in trouble as Ethpeal’s power dives inside me and breaks the hold Rupe’s magic has over my soul. I feel myself freed even as I throw my essence into the wolf, leaping at Andre’s throat.
Jean Marc tries to block me with magic, a hoarse shout following a ball of witch fire he hurtles at my head. But I snap at it as my power blazes, devouring the energy and channeling it inside me. Kristophe flees, screaming like a girl, and I let him go even as my front paws impact Andre’s chest, carrying him to the ground.
I ignore Jean Marc, feeling Ethpeal’s sorcery behind me, knowing she will keep him occupied, though I hope she doesn’t kill him just yet. I’ll track down the younger of the Dumont brothers when I have leisure. Right now, everything I want is right here, under the full weight of my wolf body, staring at me with absolute terror.
His magic is as powerful as ever, but I’m in the full throes of my perfect shape and driven by the need to hurt him. Perhaps the sorcerer who guards me offers her aid as well, but I don’t notice if that’s the case, or care. Blue eyes bulge at me, the infection in his face oozing out in a bubbling mix of blood and pale green jelly from the broken crust over the slices on his face. The bite on his other cheek has been uncovered, bandage gone, bright red around my teeth marks.
He smells ill, dirty, as though the very core of him as become infected. I sneeze in his face, spraying him with wolfy snot and saliva, barking a satisfied laugh at his horrified expression.
Andre. I send the thought directly into his mind. Hello, Andre.
He struggles under me, but I push harder with my magic, containing him.
How are you feeling? I sniff deeply. The damage I’ve done, the infection I scent, it’s all through him now. Not the same as a werewolf’s bite does to a human, but deeper, fed by my hate and magic, spreading illness throughout him. I’ve done him far more hurt than I originally intended and it makes me happy. He’s suffering, his power reduced by the injury. While his coven sustains him, I can feel the rot inside and know it’s only a matter of time before he dies in agony and madness.
I could kill him here and now, end his pathetic life. But the thought of him withering away, unable to stop the degradation happening to him, appeals to me at a most basic, child-like level. The girl I was giggles her wicked glee as I back away from him and allow myself to transform to human, standing naked over him, the coat Piers gave me discarded on the grass behind me.
“Have a nice what’s left of your life, Andre,” I say, waving him off. Ethpeal comes to my side, frowning, but doesn’t argue when Jean Marc makes a lunge for his father and drags him to his feet. The pair stagger off into the darkness as Syd’s grandmother hands me the longcoat. I slip inside it, shivering in the night, but with pleasure.
I will find Andre in his last days and sit at his bedside and watch him die slowly.
Such sweet vengeance.
As I turn to Ethpeal, I feel the sudden pressure of sorcery, but not hers. She shakes her head at me as I cinch the belt of the coat tight and turn to find Eva Southway striding across the grass toward me. Piers’s handsome mother looks pissed, her close-cropped blonde hair spiked up as though as angry as she is. I hold my ground, glaring back at her, noting Piers’s presence behind her as she comes to a sudden halt only a few feet away, a small group of her people surrounding her.
“Charlotte Girard,” she says, crisp and angry.
“Leader Southway.” I don’t bow my head and she’s lucky I used the honorific considering the time I’ve had. She’s done everything in her power—including turning against her own son—to capture Sage and I and I can’t help but hold the pursuit against her.
“Where is the revenant?” She looks past me at Ethpeal, frown deepening. “I should have known you’d be here.”
Demetrius pops his head around Eva’s shoulder and waves at me with a sweet smile. I grin and wave back.
The Steam Union leader glares over her shoulder before sighing. “Well?”
I shrug, dull anger replacing everything. “I don’t know,” I say. “He’s gone.”
One of her fists thumps against her thigh as her tall, lean body snaps around to face Piers. “If you’re hiding the fugitive—”
“Give it a rest, Mum,” he says, leaving her side to stand with me. Eva watches with narrowed eyes as Demetrius, with a wink and a grin, cross the grass to join me. “I don’t answer to you any longer, remember?”
“You’re a rogue in my territory,” Eva snaps. “Is that how you want this to play out?”
Piers’s anger shows at last as he shakes his head at her, long fingers jabbing the air between them. “You’re missing the most important point,” he says, voice bubbling with temper. “There’s another rogue you’ve let run rampant and he’s the reason we’re having this damned conversation in the first place.”
Eva’s jaw jumps but she nods once, sharp as a knife cut. “We’re tracking him,” she says, a hint of petulance in her voice. I know the Steam Union has suffered in the past, small and weak in number, unable to act though the need was there. But Eva isn’t doing her people any favors by holding back now. Or by playing by old rules.
I should talk. I’ve only learned that lesson myself. Seems we all have a ways to go.
“Where is Syd?” I was sure she would be here and it hurts she’s not.
“I have no idea,” Eva says, anger returning. And resentment hovers in her now. Bitterness. Well, if she’s not going to act, someone has to. And Syd has never been one to stand by and let the bad guys get away.
“Maybe you should be chasing the real criminals,” I say. “Instead of standing here, berating your son and treating me like a criminal.”
“I won’t let the revenant get away.” Eva’s voice practically vibrates with passion. And I understand, then, why she is so eager to catch Sage. I can smell it in her fear, feel it in the waves of anxiety she carries around with her.
“Your people didn’t make him.” I take a step toward her, hand outstretched. “He’s not your responsibility. And no one blames you or the Steam Union for his creation. We know Rupe acted on his own.”
She shivers, fury all over her face, but doesn’t comment. I take that as a good sign and go on, feeling so sure of myself, I know this is my chance to get through to her and diffuse the situation.
“Rupe is still Brotherhood,” I say. “But he’s working on his own.” I shrug. “At least, that’s what he told me. Belaisle appears to have fallen from grace and Rupe wants to replace him. You are in a powerful position, Eva. To take down the last of the Brotherhood and ensure the dominance of the Steam Union. Sage is my responsibility.” I thump my chest with one fist, hoping she listens, needing her to run off and do whatever it is she’s going to do and leave me to finish this fight. “Rupe and his sorcerers are yours. I’ll let you do your job, if you leave me to mine.”
She doesn’t move a long moment, or react, though I feel her anger ebbing, her fear retreating. When she finally nods and turns from me, her mind reaches for mine.
Keep my son safe, she sends. Or I’ll hold you personally responsible.
She and her people vanish through a black tunnel, leaving the rest of us behind on the cool grass. I watch her go, heart tight, chest so compressed by the need to hold myself back, it’s hard to breathe. The moment the doorway slips shut, I turn to my friends who stare at me with expectation.
“Let her try to find Rupe,” I say. “I already know where he went.”
“To the palace,” Piers says, a tiny smile twitching the corner of his mouth. “Mum’s going to be pissed, Charlotte.”
“Let her be,” I say. “This is my fight and no one is going to keep me from winning it.”
***