A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4) by Rachel Morgan

Author:Rachel Morgan [Rachel Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-16T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

After a glance at the motionless elf lying on the floor, I back up slowly, raising my hands. Shield magic hangs in the air in front of me, but it won’t last long if attacked repeatedly with a crossbow. “Chase?” I say as I place one foot behind the other. “Looks like I’m not going home just yet.”

Saber crosses the threshold into the room, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder at Chase. He’s standing over the urn with the bangle held in a cloth. “Ah, look who decided to join us for the festivities,” he says. “You’re just in time, Mr. Saber.”

“That’s mine,” Saber growls. “I want it back.”

“You did just fine without it all those months it was at the Guild.”

“Things change.”

I edge further back until I’m next to Chase. I sense his shield magic joining mine. “By ‘things change,’” Chase says, “do you mean someone at Velazar Prison told you to get it back?”

Sparks fly from Saber’s tongue as he speaks. “What I do at Velazar Prison is no business of yours. Now give me the bangle before I shoot your girlfriend through the head.”

“Anything to do with that particular prisoner is my business, Saber. What information does he want you to find?”

“You won’t know until it’s too late.”

“Then I suppose we have no reason to delay this any longer.” Chase drops the bangle into the urn and places the lid on top.

“No!” Saber takes a few steps forward, then stops as the sound of an explosion rips through the still air. The urn rocks, but remains intact. “NO!” Saber raises his crossbow and fires. Again and again, bolts strike our combined shield.

“Now would be a good time to do your thing,” Chase says between gritted teeth.

“But I’m pouring all my energy into the shield. I can’t—”

“I’ll hold the shield. You distract him.”

I breathe out slowly, releasing both my shield and the control around my mind. I close my eyes and focus on what I need Saber to see. I imagine a second explosion within the stone urn. This time, it cracks. It shatters. It sends stone and flame and heat flying across the room. When I open my eyes, I see the scene I’m imagining. I feel the searing heat. Saber is on the other side of the room, his arm raised to protect his face against the imaginary burning debris that just flew past him.

Chase kicks the reclining chair across the room, knocking Saber to the ground. The crossbow clatters onto the floor, and Chase forces a gust of wind from his hand strong enough to sweep the weapon out the door. Saber rolls away from the broken chair, jumps to his feet, and runs at Chase. Chase bends and uses the man’s momentum to flip him over his shoulder. Saber lands on his side and kicks at Chase, but the tattoo artist leaps out of the way. As Saber scrambles up and flings sparks at his opponent, Chase ducks. Then he jumps and kicks, striking Saber in the chest with his solid combat boot.

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