Steal the Light (Thieves #1)(38)

“Zoey, stop it.” Neil tried to maneuver me away. “Something’s wrong. He’s trying to shoot you.”

I didn’t listen. I just thrashed harder.

There was another blast from the bedroom, and Neil pinned me down with a snarl. His eyes were distinctly wolf-like, but I wasn’t fazed. I continued to struggle to absolutely no avail. He was too strong. I hated him. A wealth of rage threatened to spill over from someplace deep inside me. If I could have killed Neil in that moment, I would surely have done it, and I would have reveled in it. I wanted his blood on my hands. The scream that came from my throat was barely human.

“Blasted demon, trying to kill me girl!” I heard my father shouting, his accent stronger than I’d ever heard it. There was another crack, and then the door started splintering outward as he kicked his way out.

“I’ll kill ya first, I swear!” Dad struggled to get through what was left of the door.

Neil turned slightly. I think he was trying to see which demon my father was talking about, and I took advantage. I needed to get away. I did the only thing I could. It was a feminine instinct that nature bred in every one of us—to hurt the male where it would do the most damage. I brought my knee up as hard as I could as I pressed my hands into Neil’s shoulders.

Neil stiffened above me, and it was as if all the air left his lungs as he slid to one side. I scooted out from under him and went straight for my gun, glistening like a beacon just out of reach.

“There ya are, black-souled demon.” My father looked directly at me. It barely registered through my own shouting inner voices that something was wrong. He pointed his gun straight at me, and I felt a fierce satisfaction as I swung around and pointed the Ruger at his chest. I was starting to pull the trigger when Neil hit me again. He managed to roll us away again as the bullets flew.

“This time, you stay down.” He growled as he pulled back a fist and everything turned a blissful black.





“How do you know she’s not going to try to kill me again when she wakes up?”

I heard Neil’s voice from a distance as I started to come out of the warm, dark place I’d been in. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave that place but consciousness seemed to be inevitable at this point.

“She’s fine now,” Sarah was saying in her most placating voice.

“Well, I should be glad I didn’t want to have kids because I think that option is gone now.” Neil sounded bitter at the prospect. “I have really great genes, you know. It’s a shame.”

Reality hit with the force of a sledgehammer. Everything that happened rushed back in, and I couldn’t stop the moan that came with the realization that I tried to kill my father. I held a gun in my hand and pulled the trigger and prayed that the bullet found his heart. I fought Neil like a wildcat, not caring when I hurt him. I put us all at risk for that money, and now I couldn’t think of why I would do such a thing. I moaned again, though this time not because of the guilt. I also had a massive headache.

“Here.” Christine pressed a mug into my hand. “It’s chamomile, wintergreen, and peppermint mixed with arrowroot powder.”

I took a deep drink and nearly choked. “That’s vodka.”

Christine smiled and held out her palm. “Yes, it is. But this isn’t.”

She blew a thick powder in my face. It hit me everywhere. I coughed and cried as it hit my lungs and eyes. It burned. “Damn it! What the hell was that for?”

Christine slapped her hands together, brushing the rest of the dust off. “It clears the hex. The herbs and the arrowroot purify the space. We burned the hex bags once we figured out there were two of them controlling both you and Harry. Then I started making the arrowroot spell just in case the hex was hanging around. I’m studying to be a witch.”

“Yes, she is. Christine has been so helpful.” There was a fine tone of irritation that let me know Sarah wasn’t happy to share with another witch.

I brushed what I could of the powder off my face. “So what’s the vodka for?”

“Oh, that’s for the guilt,” Christine explained. “I find every time I try to kill someone, I feel really crappy about it, but after a couple of vodkas, I’m okay with it. You have to learn to accept and love yourself. We’re all just human, after all.”

I thrust the mug out. “Yeah, I think I need more.”

Christine happily trotted off in search of another bottle of Ciroc.

Sarah put a cold rag on my forehead. “She’s insane, you know. She’s a decent witch, but she’s bonkers. I have no idea what your dad is thinking.”

The cold felt wonderful against my throbbing forehead. The enormity of the situation was finally hitting me. I grabbed Sarah’s hand. “Is my dad all right? I didn’t manage to hit him, did I?”

“He’s perfectly well. There’s not a scratch on him. He’s just sleeping off the spell,” Sarah said. “He was under it a lot longer than you were, so the effects were a bit more profound.”

I looked at Neil, who was frowning at me. My dad wasn’t the only one who had been endangered by my brief lapse into psychosis. “Hey, buddy, are you all right? I’m really sorry about the whole maiming you thing. If you think about it, it’s one of those stories we’ll be laughing about years from now, won’t we?”