White Trash Warlock by White Trash Warlock

Author:White Trash Warlock [retail] [Warlock, White Trash]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-25T21:28:38+00:00

22

Adam

The gun flashed. Thunder boomed in the cavern. Bullets split the air, then froze.

Adam watched the spirit tendril inside Annie swell. It raged, held in place as the Gaoler held back the flow of time. A crushing amount of force came into play, squeezing the air from Adam’s chest. The bullets, paused midair, were aimed for Bobby. Adam moved, glad he still could, and pushed his brother out of the way. He slapped the gun from Annie’s hand.

The spirit unleashed a wave of force, breaking the Gaoler’s hold. Time snapped back. The bullets sailed on into the darkness. Adam felt a rattling tingle throughout his body as Argent drew her sword.

“Lady, hold!” he shouted. He did not look at her, but held up one hand and wrapped the other over Bobby’s eyes.

“Let me go, Adam! Annie!”

“Don’t look,” Adam said. “It will kill you to see her.”

Even with his eyes squeezed shut, white light burned Adam’s lids. He turned his head.

“Lady!” Adam shouted. “You said magic could not hurt it. It wants you to strike it.”

He risked a peek at Annie. The spirit tendril had frozen. It had heard him.

“You’re done playing dumb,” he said. “I’m on to you.”

Argent paused. The world paled as she sheathed her blade and put aside her terrible aspect.

“Put her in the sand,” she said in her normal voice. She still sounded terrible and commanding, the voice of a queen, but the ground no longer shook.

Bobby, trembling as hard as Adam, helped him walk Annie to the circle. While her body had returned to docility, the spirit looked at Adam through her eyes with pure hatred.

It didn’t fight them.

The energy around Annie, angry and red, had dimmed.

Adam felt for its power, and it seemed weaker. “You used up your strength against the Gaoler,” he told it. He turned, looked to Argent. “That’s why you wanted her to attack you, so you could drink her power.”

Annie’s eyes tightened.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Adam asked.

He flipped it off.

Annie stepped into the circle. The sand came to life. It ran, bubbled, and swirled over her like a tiny storm. It settled into place, hardening into a shell. The tendril remained connected to her, but it had faded. It didn’t move.

For all her power, Argent was impetuous, too used to being the biggest threat on the block. The spirit knew it too, and it had laid a trap.

Adam could sense it watching him, a subtle focus a more powerful witch would not have detected. He took a few slow breaths, let them out. His gut churned. He had to end this thing.

Adam looked to Bobby and found him gaping, his eyes shone with tears.

“You can’t see it,” Adam told his brother. “But she’s already better. Its hold on her has weakened.”

“But not broken,” Argent said. She eyed the tendril like she still considered cutting it. “We must sever its connection and root out the influence inside her.”

“How?” Adam asked. “Your blade won’t hurt it. What will?”

Argent did not answer him. Instead, she turned to the Gaoler and opened her hands, cupped, a gesture of supplication.

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