Ascension - Laura Hall (books for 20 year olds TXT) 📗

crimson snake with fluorescent green eyes and a forked tongue.

What. The. Unholy. Fuck.

A flash of white and a snap was followed by one of the Liberati falling to his knees. He shook himself and rose back to his feet, even the magic of an Opal Mage repelled by his cipher defenses. Adam had no such protection. The crystal sphere flared bright red, the snake lashing from side to side. Adam cried out, his corona flickering wildly before bouncing back to full strength.

“Give us the girl, Omega, and we’ll let you live!”

Wait—what?

I looked down at my arms, lit up like the Fourth of July, and knew once I appeared I’d be immediately visible. That freaky alchemy would head my way, without any assurances that the Omega would protect me.

In fact, I wouldn’t blame him if he grabbed the Prime and ran. He didn’t know me or owe me loyalty. Regardless of the Prime’s convictions, right now I was a liability that could get them both killed.

It wasn’t a choice, really.

I stepped out from behind the tree. Immediately, four sets of eyes snapped my way. I guess I was brighter than I’d thought.

“Dammit, Fiona,” snarled Adam, apparently more irritated that I’d disobeyed him than that I’d obliterated his spell.

“Fiona Sullivan,” spoke the central man, his bald head gleaming in the firelight. “Come with us. We are not your enemy. Your father is safe and waiting for you.”

The lies stung like wasps. My arms burned. My palms burned. My whole body, toes to crown, burned with white-hot rage.

The first lightning bolt missed, striking a tree with a rending screech of wood. The second was deflected at the last second by the crystal sphere. The third, however, found its mark, ricocheting off the ground and slamming into the leftmost man. He didn’t make a sound as his body flew backward and crumpled against a tree.

“You’ll regret this!” screamed the bald man. “Before your father dies, I’ll tell him you could have saved him!”

Pain seared my heart. My arms pulsed and I lifted them.

“You don’t know my father very well.”

I released the lightning and it hit empty asphalt where the man had been standing. The bolt veered skyward, piercing the darkness and for a moment, illuminating the road.

The Liberati were gone.

I sagged, arms falling limp and dark to my sides. The smell of ozone was thick. Fire flickered in the forest as the tree I’d first struck went up in flames.

I looked helplessly at Adam and he lifted his arms, his eyes flashing white. Moisture filled the air, thick and foggy on my face. A moment later, warm rain began to fall, sizzling against the charred car and smothering the fires. Along with the smells of damp earth, charred wood, and burning metal, there was a strange buzzing in the air.

“Do you feel that?” I asked Adam. “A weird vibration?”

He gave me a penetrating look. “No, but I’m pretty sure you’re sensing the magical resonance of alchemy.”

The statement brought me back to the present, and to the Prime. I stumbled to him and dropped to my knees. Blood masked his throat and chest, though whatever wound had caused it was already healed.

He was pale. Too pale. Dark bruises marred the skin beneath his closed eyes.

Footsteps approached, squelching wetly on the road. “He needs blood,” said Adam wearily.

“Okay,” I whispered, rain misting from my lips. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours. The blood of mages is unpalatable to vampires.”

“Huh. Lucky you.”

“Here,” he said and handed me a small, wicked looking knife.

Feeling strangely calm—shock was a beautiful thing—I sliced the skin of my wrist above the circular burn from Adam’s bracelet. Blood welled and was washed away by the rain.

I pushed my wrist to the Prime’s mouth. His body jerked, curling around my arm. A small sigh escaped him. Dark eyelashes flickered, then parted on black eyes. His fangs struck.

It didn’t hurt like I thought it would. There was no venom, not like a snakebite or the sting of a bee. Just a pinch, then numbness.

Then sucking.

After the third or fourth pull, he regained some measure of consciousness. Enough to make noises that brought heat to my face and pooled low in my body.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of pleasant, platonic things. Running on the beach at dawn. A hot cup of tea and a good book. Pizza. Chihuahuas.

“That’s enough,” said Adam sharply, but Connor’s grip only tightened, a low growl in his throat.

My aches and pains floated away on a red haze. Everything was wonderful. Perfect. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. I giggled and listed to one side, and finally fell. I felt no impact. The wet asphalt was soft and sparkly, a bed of glittering pillows.

My eyelids parted just enough for me to see Connor Thorne’s beautiful, enraptured face, and my wrist tucked firmly in his mouth.

Adam yelled, “Stop now or you’ll kill her!”

His eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide and filled with a night sky. Millions of stars, flickering and streaking through unrelieved black.

“Pretty,” I whispered.

Reality shifted, bent, and swirled down the drain.