Dark Legacies (Book Four in the Brenna Strachan Series) by Hadena James

Author:Hadena James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampire, demon, paranormal romance, fantasy, angel, epic, werewolf, witch, gargoyle, epic saga, fantasy saga, brenna strachan, hadena james, dark legacies
Publisher: Hadena James

Chapter Sixteen

The city was overcrowded. My house was an entry-less obsidian cube currently housing the torso and head of the first horseman. My family was housing homeless refugees. This left me with a room at the prison and not like a guest room, but a prison cell.

On one side, I had the legs of the horseman. They had reassembled themselves and were now running blindly into walls. On the other side, was Spring-Heeled Jack, who disturbingly kept getting out of his cell and peeking through the window. Luckily, Pendragon had given me a magic vial to lock it from the inside. Directly across from me was a looney Lycan named Victoria, who kept talking in birdcalls.

The prison was very noisy when Spring-Heeled Jack opened the window. With it closed, I couldn’t hear anything except the occasional thumping of the horseman’s legs running into the adjoining wall. I lay on a bed with a pillow over my head, hoping that sleep would eventually come to me.

However, just as I would start to fall asleep, Spring-Heeled Jack would open my window and giggle at me. The magic didn’t work on the window. My own magic, still depleted, wasn’t strong enough to work either.

Nine hours in this place was enough to make anyone crazy. I could hear Victoria tweeting again, meaning the window was open. I pulled the pillow down just enough to see Spring-Heeled Jack’s red eye staring at me. His nose was stuck through the bar.

“Please, go away,” I finally said to him. He giggled and shut the window. Almost instantly, he reopened it. Then he shut it again. I sighed. It opened again, he giggled again and then he slammed it shut. I got up off the cot and walked to the window. When it opened yet again, I was ready. I grabbed hold of his nose. The giggling increased in both pitch and pace. He tugged and I tugged back. This made him giggle even harder.

“You might as well stop,” Ezra told me from the desk where he sat.

“I want him to go away,” I told the book.

“He isn’t going to go away. He’s just going to keep annoying you.”

“I can try.”

Jack jerked his nose out of my fingers. He stood on the other side and giggled. Slowly the face drifted back from the window and a crumbled piece of paper appeared. He shoved it through the window and shut the sliding door.

“Good grief,” I sighed, looking at the paper.

“Jack doesn’t write,” Ezra told me.

“Well, I don’t think he conjured it from thin air. It must be something,” I stared at it, waiting for it to turn into Spring-Heeled Jack. “It looks old.”

“It’s Jack, it could be a candy wrapper from three hundred years ago.”

With effort, I squelched the skittish feelings towards the paper and bent down. It was wet. I didn’t want to know why or with what. The paper felt older than anything I’d ever held. It felt like a cottony fiber.

I opened it. On the page were four drawings.

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