Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(205)

“You aren’t even of this world!” she cried.

“And you had no use except to dupe Ilsa,” he replied. “Jesus, clue in.”

“I am to be Queen of the Northlands,” she declared.

“Queen to my king, woman.” He shook his head. “So f**kin’ worried you got your mascara on right, you couldn’t run a schoolroom, much less a f**kin’ continent. I know how to run an empire, bitch, and they know that. Now,”—he leaned both of us toward her—“back…the f**k…off.”

She went for him in a way he had no choice but to let me go.

I heard a disembodied, “Such a bother.”

But apparently Minerva nor her bitch friends felt like intervening.

Which was rather unfortunate for Cora, the Dreadful because she obviously hadn’t gotten to the bad parts of Pol so she didn’t know he didn’t hold back.

So she could not know it was coming.

Therefore, after a short struggle, when his steel fist crashed into her head, it did, indeed, cave it in.

I stood frozen in shock as she dropped inert to the ground, blood pooling stark red across the grayish-white stone, blood coming from her head.

I waited, breathless.

She didn’t twitch or even moan.

Holy cow.

He’d just killed her.

Right there.

He’d just killed her.

I backed up, bile again climbing up my throat.

“Maddie! The bars!” Finnie shouted right before a burst of electricity shot along my back and blue sparks sizzled around me.

I scuttled forward just as Pol whirled to me.

“Fuck! Look what you made me do!”

Seriously?

Seriously?

“Me?” I asked.

“You,” he spat, starting to stalk toward me. “Christ, always lose my mind around you. Fuckin’ crazy.”

He was f**king crazy but not for the reasons he thought he was.

I couldn’t share this. I was circling as he kept stalking and heard an obviously not torn up about the recent demise of Cora, The Nasty, Baldur call, “Please don’t. This is most amusing.”

Therefore, I knew one of the witches was going to intervene.

She didn’t.

Pol kept stalking.

I kept circling.

They were probably amused too, and it was clear Pol was right.

Cora, the Dead was expendable.

I stared at Pol thinking this sucked.

It sucked!

How could life be so awesome, so full of promise, so beautiful and here I was facing down my freaking ex confined by a magical cage in a whole other world?

I mean, really.

“Trust you to spoil it all when I’m finally happy,” I snapped at Pol.

“Do not make me chase you, bitch,” he clipped back.

“When Apollo gets here, he’s totally going to cut off your steel hand, your other hand and conk you in the head with his sword again.”

“Wake up, Ilsa, this shit is not gonna go good for you. The dude’s probably already dead.”

I could not believe that.

I would not believe that.

But just at the thought, my heart hurt.

“He’ll save me,” I hissed.

“Kiss him good-bye, babe,” he returned.

“Come closer to us, Maddie,” Circe called.

“I don’t want him near you guys,” I called back, still circling but doing it well away from the girls.

“Come closer, Maddie!” Finnie yelled.

“I don’t—” I started.

“Come! Now!” Cora shouted.

I didn’t know why I did it, but I ran their way.

The instant I got close, Circe clasped my hand and I noticed all of the women were holding hands in a circle.

Finnie grasped my other hand and the second she did, Circe ordered, “Think about your man.”

I had no idea why she wanted us to do that but I did it.

It wasn’t hard. It felt good. Beautiful. Calming. I pulled up a picture of Apollo, tall, strong, big, handsome, his cloak billowing out behind him, then falling forward, swaying around him, enveloping him in its embrace.

That cloak was totally badass.

So was my man.

On this thought, a charge shot through my hands and a ring burst out from our huddle colored in gold, ice blue, violet and poppy stripes. It sliced through Pol and Baldur, taking them off their feet.

Then the ring expanded, stretching tall, and the blue bars of the cage disintegrated.

Finally, it exploded and multi-colored sparks shot everywhere.

I guessed they were wrong about Circe’s magic not working here.

Thank God

“Now, run!” Circe shouted.

We ran toward the doors.

They closed with a loud crash.

Crap!

I skidded to a halt when my arm jerked because I was still holding Circe’s hand and she’d gone down, tackled by Baldur.

She rolled him and Finnie grabbed onto his hair, yanking it back.

He howled.

“He was correct,” the disembodied voice sounded. “This is most amusing.”

Fucking witch bitches.

I couldn’t think on them. Not yet.

I was about to help with the Baldur situation when I was pulled back with a forearm at my throat.