Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(94)

Finn had nodded solemnly at that. “Yes, mamá.”

Then her mother had gathered her into her arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When her mother found that a piece of the loaf was soaked red, she froze before carefully cutting it off and toasting the slices for dinner. Only a few days after that terrible night, her parents had been found with their throats slit and Finn’s life had been forever changed.

In the end, her mother had been right; bad things did happen to people who did bad things. Ignacio had seen her, he’d seen himself in her, and her parents had paid the price.

“You.” She knew the word had come from her own lips, but it was as if she existed in a place outside her body, in a place of absolute numbness, a respite before the anger would rise and crash within her in a frothing wave. “You killed them.”

“I did,” he said. “I wanted a child of my own with propio like me, and I thought you were worthy, so I cut your papá’s throat first. While he choked on his blood your mamá begged me to spare her, for her daughter’s sake.” He cocked his head at that, as if he’d told a clever joke. “How could they know what a waste you would be? How you would come to nothing. I did them a favor when I bled them like pigs.”

Finn’s teeth were clamped so tightly against each other she feared they would shatter beneath the pressure. Anger singed her insides as her eyes stung. With him standing before her, his lips curved smugly, her fury grew so powerful it snuffed out the sorrow she felt for her parents, cauterized the wounds in her heart until they were sealed shut. She needed to kill him. She needed to feel life pour out of him and leak through her fingers.

She wrenched herself free of Ignacio’s grip and made to grab for his neck, to snap it in her hands. She was too furious to think to take her time, to make him suffer. Too angry to think of savoring it. But Ignacio only captured her wrists once more, a laugh on his lips as he dug his nails into her skin.

“There you are,” Ignacio said, his eyes roving hungrily over her face. “There’s my girl. The killer. You really thought you could just move on and become someone else? You can’t change who you are, Finn. And even if you did, who but me will accept you after all you’ve done. Who would accept a killer? Who will believe that you can be anything else?”

For a moment, Finn faltered. With him standing before her, she didn’t want to be anything but a killer. And he was right. Who would believe that she could be anything else?

But then she knew the answer to that question, didn’t she?

I believe you, the prince had said to her, his gold eyes sincere and true. I believed you then and I believe you now, even if you don’t.

If he believed, why couldn’t she?

“One person will,” Finn said. “And I’ll get others. Not a maldito thing will bring me back to you.” She gripped the dragon against her chest and it buzzed in her palm. “I’d rather watch the world burn first.”

“So be it,” Ignacio spat. He released her bleeding wrists and floated away from the banister until he hovered at the center of the circular opening beneath the clock. With a wave of his hand, the still fireworks began exploding outward, pelting colored embers every which way. Finn held her hands over her face to block the spray. They dug into her forearms like tiny, sizzling teeth.

The showering color painted him in harsh light, brought life to the fury burning in his eyes. “If you wish to watch the world burn, then I will burn it for you.”

Finn dropped her bleeding arms from her face, barely registering the sting of the burns. “You asked for your own death the day you touched my family.” The words curled her lips into a snarl and, for a moment, she could think of nothing but her mother’s words. Bad things happen to bad people. Finn would make sure Ignacio learned the truth in those words. “I’m going to kill you.”

He only looked at her, amused. “Goodbye, Finn.” With a snap of his fingers life poured into the prison once more. Guards shouted and ran as the fireworks fell away, raining on them like burning snowflakes. Prisoners jeered in their cells and in the midst of it all, Ignacio hovered like an angel of death readying his scythe. Finn wanted to run, wanted to sink into the floor, but her legs couldn’t move. They never did when he looked at her this way, as if a punishment swift and harsh were building within him and she deserved it.

He raised his fist. A knot of dark magic gathered above their heads. The guards and the prisoners alike stopped to stare, finally noticing Ignacio at the center of the chaos. He splayed his fingers, and the tangle of dark magic shot out in countless tendrils.

“Take all the bodies fit for our cause,” Ignacio said, his eyes still on Finn.

The streams of darkness poured into the mouths of guards and slithered between bars to take the trapped prisoners as its own. Finn and the two guards who had tried to apprehend her moments ago stood paralyzed, watching as the dark magic curved around them to infect others. The dark magic zoomed past them and a handful of caged prisoners, as if turning up its nose at them. Finn had never been so happy to be snubbed as the prison gave way to the screams of the infected and the dark magic forced itself down their throats and into their hearts.

For a moment, the prison was still, teetering on the edge of total chaos as the fireworks disappeared from the air, coating the floor in smoky shimmers. Finn couldn’t help but hope that if she stayed still, stayed quiet enough, the prison wouldn’t tip into calamity.