Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(52)

“No!” I didn’t even let her finish; I attacked, expecting her movements.

This time, I hit her. This time, the magic hit against her leg, the denim jean burning away.

Closer.

I needed to get closer.

“You can’t have it!” I screamed as I attacked again, volley after volley flying toward her as she tried to move away.

She wasn’t fast enough. She never would be. I was more powerful than her. I had the fire magic, and now … Now she was going to feel it.

“You can’t have my daughter!”

Mommy? Save me!



One last powerful ribbon of fire and death streamed away from me and right into her, seeping into her gut, spreading through her, destroying her.

Mommy!



“You can’t have her!” I spat, ready to attack again, ready to end her, but then Rosaline’s voice filled me, her sobs shifting from that of fear to that of loss, the change in the sound cutting through me.

Mommy, she pleaded, the sound so clear that I was momentarily positive she was speaking directly to me. Mommy, don’t hurt her.

Shock filled me like warm water as I watched my friend writhe, watched my magic attempt to end her, watched her scream.

I knew I should do something. I knew I needed to. I had attacked her. I had hurt her.

I needed to get out of here. I needed to save my daughter. I needed to leave Ilyan in order to save her.

I turned, running away from my immobilized friend, away from whatever she had seen, away from what I had done like the coward I was deep down inside.

I ran because it was the only way to save her. It was the only way to save me.

I ran, no longer certain where I was running to, confident Joclyn was wrong.

I knew what I was doing. No matter what the contradictions of my past gave me, I did know that.

I knew I needed to save my daughter, and I knew I needed to keep moving toward that, no matter what I ended up running away from.





Her screams for help echoed around the hall as she yelled after me. I could hear the tremble in her voice, the terror behind each word. I could hear her desperation.

I didn’t care.

I needed to get out of there. I needed to get away from her, away from where I would hurt her, away from where she could take everything from me. Away from the black of her eyes and the terrifying way our magic had reacted.

I needed to run.

Part of me—the sane, logical side that was never loud enough when I needed it—was screaming at me to run back, to help her, to give in and trust my friend.

But I couldn’t, not with the way my daughter was screaming inside of me, her voice as loud as the terrified pleas ringing from behind me.

I had turned another corner, picking the pace up into a run as I tried to decide what to do, what course of action to take, when I ran right into Sain.

He had been walking through the dimly lit hall around the corner from me, unseen, before I slammed into his back like a freight train, sending us both off balance—he, into the wall; me, to the ground.

“Wynifred!”

I cringed at the level of his voice, the sound a violent, feral screech as he turned to me with raging hatred in his eyes that was stronger than I had ever seen.

My heart beat louder, the knot in my stomach tightening as I met his gaze. I was convinced I had as much rage and anger as he did right then.

Seeing him there, in front of me, brought back the image I had seen moments before of him … in that room, watching my daughter die, as though it was nothing.

I swallowed, my brain already tallying him up as another casualty. Then my spine aligned as I rushed him, afraid someone would hear him. Someone would find me.

Joclyn and Ilyan had some kind of a strange connection, thanks to their bonding; as a result, for all I knew, he was already looking for me.

“Shhhhhhh!” I hissed, thrusting the old man into the wall, my magic spreading away from me, searching through the immediate area for any signs of magic, for anyone who might be looking for me.

Sain glared at me with a combination of fear and interest as I held my hand over his mouth, his body pinned against the wall. Beams of light spread into the dark space from the distant windows, giving everything around us haunted, red shadows.

I expected to calm down, being so close to him. After all, we had been through enough together. Instead, my panic increased, the reality of what I was feeling, or rather, what I wasn’t feeling, become alarmingly clear.

There was nothing other than Joclyn’s magic, the force of it made louder by her desperate screams.

The absence of magic should have been calming, but it wasn’t. There was no trace of anyone, not even the man I currently faced.

“I can’t feel your magic,” I hissed, my fear vanishing for a minute, drowned by the shock of the abnormality before me.

Sain mumbled something in response, the words garbled by the hand I had forgotten I had smothered him with.

Removing it, I let him catch his breath as I fixed him with a sharp look, the distress pounding through my blood stream again.

“Is that what’s got you so spooked?” he asked. Part of me did not even care he was dodging. “You looked like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Mommy, don’t let them take me.

More like I heard one. Between Joclyn’s pained please and Rosaline’s cries, I was starting to think I was haunted.