Luckily, I grab it right before Cole, which gives me the lovely side benefit of being able to kick him in the stomach as I launch myself back into the air.
I’ve got to say, for someone who’s always prided herself on being nonviolent, these last few punches and kicks have made me entirely too happy. Then again, payback’s a bitch, and I’ve had just about enough of being poor, weak little Grace.
It’s time everyone on this field—everyone in this paranormal world—figured out that I’m not fair game anymore. And that I don’t need to hide behind Jaxon, either.
My gaze narrows on the finish line as I race toward my goal. Excitement burns in my chest as I realize I’m going to make it. I’m flying with every last ounce of energy I can muster, and as my goal gets closer and closer, I can’t help the elation bubbling in my chest. I’m actually going to make it.
I’ve barely got anything left in me now, so I have to drop the whirlpool keeping Violet, Quinn, and Cam out of my hair.
But it doesn’t matter. I’m only twenty feet from my goal, and they’re all too far behind to catch me. As long as Cole hasn’t suddenly learned to fly, I’ve done it. I’ve actually done it.
I’ve mentally celebrated no more than five seconds, though, before I realize I’ve made a giant strategic error.
I lost track of Delphina.
And she’s a lot closer than I thought, blindsiding me just as I stretch out for my flight to the goal line.
She hits me full-on in the side with all her strength and velocity, and it knocks me out of the air. Even worse, I hear—and feel—the stone of my wing crack.
118
Stop Dragon my
Wings Around
I manage to hold on to the comet for no other reason than I’m in such agony, every muscle in my body is contracting in an effort to protect the rest of me from further pain.
And this time when I plummet to the ground, I can’t do anything about it but scream.
My right wing is obviously cracked—I haven’t seen it yet, but the trauma has me almost blacking out—and I can’t fly straight, no matter how hard I try. I can’t fly at all, to be honest, and my only hope of not shattering when I hit the ground is gliding my way down on air currents. Quickly.
It’s not easy and it’s not pretty but it works, and that’s all that matters. But thirty seconds have passed by the time I’m on the ground, and I have to get rid of the ball or the vibrations will nearly destroy me. Again.
I think back to Nuri holding the comet for five minutes before Ludares kicked off, and I’m in awe of her. Thirty seconds for me, and I would sell my soul to set it down right now.
I throw it up in the air and pray—just this once—for a small break. I can’t fly anymore, so if Delphina gets it, I’m totally screwed. Then again, I’m probably screwed anyway, considering I’m now stuck on the ground with Cole, who’s barreling toward me like the hounds of hell are after him.
Delphina doesn’t get it, which is surprising. Then again, the way she’s flying around in wavering circles at the moment hints at the idea that that last hit was as hard on her brain as it was on the rest of me. On a different day, with a different Trial, that might make me sad. Right now, I’m just glad it means she’s out of commission for a few seconds.
Cole’s racing straight at me—and the ball—in werewolf form, and I’m closer and know if I run, I might just beat him to it. So I change to my human form on the fly and race for the ball.
I manage to snatch it right out of Cole’s open jaws. I hit the ground running, but a quick look behind me shows that not only is Cole hot on my heels, so is everyone else…except Delphina, who is still doing her best impression of a cuckoo clock.
But Quinn, Violet, and Cam have finally managed to find their way out of the whirlpool I left them in and are now chasing me like their entire reputation depends on bringing me down.
That may be true, but my entire life depends on me not letting them, so I put everything I’ve got on the line. I grit my teeth as I pass thirty seconds with the comet. The ball is so hot that it feels like I’m burning the skin right off my hands. But I can’t get rid of it, can’t give it away any more, either. My energy is flagging, I’m bruised, battered, broken, and I don’t have much more fight in me.
This is it—I know it is. I can feel it in my bones, can feel it in every part of me. This is my shot to win, and if I don’t take it now, then it’s probably never going to come around again.
Which means I’m not giving up this ball, no matter how much it hurts. No matter how much I have to sacrifice to hold on to it.
And I run.
When I’m about ten yards from the goal line, I glance behind me—not the least bit surprised to see six pissed-off paranormals barreling down the field after me. Lucky me, it looks like the birdies have finally stopped circling Delphina’s head because she is back in the game as well.
Which means, winning this thing just got much, much harder.
I’m so close.
But so is Cole.
I need to shift back into a gargoyle so the sadistic fuck doesn’t kill me with his sharp teeth or claws. But what if my wing is so damaged, the pain causes me to falter? Even a second’s delay is all Cole needs to have me in his powerful grasp.
I’d read in one book that shifting can cause some shifters to heal or partially heal as the magic transforms their body, not physiology. So there’s a chance, a very, very small chance, that shifting could actually give me an advantage against Cole, too—I could get my flight back.
And so I decide to risk it. I shift.
I almost pass out with relief as I realize my wing has healed itself, and I launch into the air. It’s not the best liftoff, as the comet is now so painful, tears are leaking down the sides of my stone face. But I’m only five yards from the finish line and flying.
119
Gargoyle Girls Do
It with Grace
I barely make it a few feet before I feel something score my back, and the pain is excruciating.
Sharp talons wrap all the way around my arm, then sling me toward the ground with such force that it’s impossible for me to right myself.
The ground rises up to meet me as my stone body slams into the earth, the comet trapped beneath one of my arms. My head is turned toward my goal, and I almost weep when I realize I’m only a few yards away. So close.
Even if I could move, which I most definitely can’t, Violet sends vines from the ground to wrap around my arms and legs, pressing me farther into the earth—and the comet that’s now vibrating so fast and hot, it’s a constant mind-numbing pain.
I can vaguely hear the stadium erupt in noise, but I have no idea if they want to call a halt to the Trial or see me punished by death for daring to question the sanctity of their beloved Circle.
Simone snarls at me, goes to try to pry the ball from under my body, but Cole just laughs. “Don’t worry about taking it,” he tells her as he nods to the clock at the side of the field. “She’s going on forty-five seconds now. She’ll forfeit when it kills her.”
He turns to me, the malevolent glint in his eyes growing more evil with every second that passes. “It has to be excruciating, right, Grace? Why don’t you just let the ball go? Everything will be easier if you just give up.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”
He grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.” And then he punches me full in the face.
The rest of them take the punch to mean it’s open season, and they leap on me. Quinn—now in human form—grabs on to my free arm and starts to yank it back, back, back until it feels like it’s going to snap right off.
Delphina slams her tail into my face, and blood gushes down the back of my throat, choking me. I didn’t even know I could bleed in gargoyle form, so thanks for that lesson.
Cam kicks me in the side and yells, “Payback’s a bitch.”
And Cole, Cole walks over to one of the straight, heavy rods the game uses as goalposts and uses his wolf strength to yank it right out of the ground.
I try to find a way to protect myself from a blow that can actually shatter me. I think about changing back to human form, but if I do that, a hit from Cole wielding that goalpost will kill human me.
I’m trapped, blows raining down on me, and I try to find the memory of my mother’s smile, try to find Hudson’s power, but I can’t. I can’t focus on anything except the next punishing blow to my body, the ball ripping me apart atom by atom now.
I can feel my eyesight grow dim, and I know I’m going to die.
And this time no one can save me, not even myself.
And still I don’t regret coming to Katmere. I could never regret anything that brought Jaxon into my life. And Hudson. And Macy and Flint and Eden and Mekhi and Gwen and Uncle Finn and even poor, poor Xavier. My friends. My family.
My only regret is that my parents didn’t live to see the life I’ve made for myself here. They would have loved my people as much as I do. My father would have loved Jaxon’s protectiveness and Flint’s ridiculous sense of humor. My mother would have loved Macy’s sassiness and how often Hudson pushes me to stand up for myself.
It’s as I remember my mother, my laughing, smiling mother, that an image shimmers before me, so clear that I can almost reach out and touch it.
My knees. My knees hurt so much. Scraped so badly by the concrete that a few trickles of blood are running down my leg and seeping into my pretty pink socks. Tears are falling down my cheeks now as I ask my dad why he didn’t catch me before I fell. And I can see his heart break that he wasn’t there for me. He should have been. But he wasn’t. He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and tells me he’s sorry, that we can try again later. He’ll catch me tomorrow. And then he’s reaching down to grab my hand, to walk me and my bike home. And I am so sad.
I didn’t learn to ride my bike today. Instead, I fell down. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do it. My knees ache, but that feeling that I’ve failed my parents, that I’ve failed myself, hurts more than any scrape ever could. I look up to see if my mom is ashamed of me, too, but she’s smiling down. Her eyes twinkling with unconditional love.