Into the Fire Page 63
Holy hell, the bitch was throwing a car at me!
I dove out of the way just in time. The car landed with a tremendous crash only a few feet away, followed instantly by an explosion that pelted me with flames and flying glass. I only paused to spare a single, pitying glance at the flaming wreckage before I got up and started after the necromancer again. No human could survive that explosion, but I could save Vlad, if I didn’t let her horrifying defensive tactic work by wasting time trying to help people who were already dead.
By the time I was close enough to see her, she was already hefting up another car to chuck at me. This time, I wasn’t blindsided by shock, so instead of ducking, I ran toward it, aiming for the terrified, screaming driver. I smashed through the windshield right when the car went airborne. In the mere seconds before it hit the ground, I used a spinning maneuver I’d learned from my Olympics tryouts to twist in midair in order to yank the driver out of his seat belt. Our continued backward velocity combined with the car’s forward momentum sent both of us barreling through the back windshield. I twisted around again so my body took the brunt of the impact, yet the driver was still bleeding and hurt when we came out the other side.
I dropped him as soon as we cleared the wreckage. He might have serious injuries, but he’d live, which was more than I could say for the other poor driver. Now I had to stop this bitch from flinging any more cars with innocent people in them.
I jumped up and grabbed the nearest streetlight, shoving my right hand into it. That shot electricity into me with a dizzying rush, yet I didn’t pause to savor the sensation. I used the pole as a springboard to launch myself at the necromancer, and torpedoed into her right as she was reaching for a new car to hurl my way.
We tumbled in a mass of flailing limbs down the embankment next to the highway, and I shot all that excess electricity into her as we rolled. Her other hand had grown back, and she tore into me with agonizing ferocity. Her age meant that she was far stronger than me, too. I couldn’t win this fight with fangs or fists and we were too close for me to use my whip, so I took the punishment while gripping her with my right hand and forcing more electricity into her. After a few more painful moments, she stopped attacking me and began to fight to get away instead.
I didn’t let her go, even when I saw her hands turn blue. She grabbed me, trying to send that awful spell into me while she hissed out curses. I held on, hoping the same electricity-fueled immunity that had previously protected me from Remnants—another manifestation of the dark energies of grave magic—would protect me now. Even if it didn’t, killing her would negate any spell she hexed me with, so all I had to do was not succumb to it before I could finish her.
Soon, the words of her spell turned into screams as her flesh began to split and blacken, unable to heal fast enough to counter the devastating effects of the unceasing electricity I kept forcing into her. Her grip on me loosened and her eyes grew impossibly wide, then burst open as if they were smashed eggs.
In another mood, I would have found that disgusting. Instead, I was filled with ruthless exultation as I kept shoving more currents into her. Her face blackened and split, exposing tendons and bone. Then her limbs started bursting open while parts of her caught fire. My hands and clothes also ignited from the contact, yet I still didn’t let go. I kept filling her with currents, vaguely aware that I was smiling with a savageness I hadn’t known I was capable of. You tried to kill Vlad! Die screaming for it, bitch, die!
With a pop that was sweet, gruesome music to my ears, her whole body burst apart from the overload of currents. I fell forward onto what was left of her torso, watching with dark satisfaction as her skull began rolling down the embankment.
I wanted to take a second to savor my victory as well as metaphorically catch my breath, but the guys might need help with the other two necromancers. I wasn’t trapped in an awful memory, so I had proved to be immune to the blue-handed spell this necromancer had tried to take me down with. If the other necromancers’ first instinct was to use grave magic, too, then I had the best chance out of everyone of not being affected by it.
I jumped up, brushing away the charred pieces of the dead necromancer’s body as I began to run back toward the warehouse. When I passed the highway, a quick glance showed that other drivers had stopped to help the injured man from the second wreck, and I noted with a mixture of relief and concern that I heard sirens coming this way. Someone had also called the police. That was good for the driver who needed medical attention, yet it wouldn’t take long for the former patrons of the dance club to hear those sirens and run toward them to tell the authorities about the chaos at the nearby warehouse.
We really didn’t need police interfering while we tried to take on the other two necromancers. Yet with luck, Vlad was already coming out of the spell now that I’d killed the female necromancer. Hopefully, the other two’s magic wasn’t as potent as hers and the guys had already subdued them. In case they hadn’t, I ran back toward the warehouse as fast as I’d left it.
As I rounded a corner, I could see a telltale orange glow in the sky over where the warehouse was supposed to be. Why would it be on fire again? Vlad had doused the flames so that none of the people still trapped inside would get hurt—
My bound around the next corner brought the warehouse into view. The previous crowd of frightened patrons had scattered, leaving only a handful of people that were actively running away. The reason why was obvious. Huge groups of flames shot from the top of the warehouse in vertical streaks, as if fire tornados were dancing along the roof.