Chapter Twenty-Two
I was drunk. That was the only explanation for what I experiencing.
I felt my body lift, passing through the hole in the ceiling as if it didn’t exist. I pinned my arms to my side, avoiding the broken concrete. The stench of rot filled my nostrils as I rose through the house, unable to control where I was going. The magic had a mind of its own, and I was inclined to let it do what it wanted if it took out the Behemoth.
I kept rising, and at that moment, I was incredibly thankful I wasn’t frightened of heights because the mansion grew smaller and the air colder as I rose up to meet the Behemoth.
The creature bore no resemblance to Behem, the spindly gluttony demon that had threatened to eat me more times than I could count. It looked like unmoulded gelatin. Its skin bulged and wobbled as the Behemoth reached down, plucking an unsuspecting car from the road. It tipped the Mercedes over, shaking it like a child trying to upend the last milk dud from the box.
The people inside screamed, and the Behemoth lobbed the car over his shoulder, unable to procure the tasty contents. His fingers were too large and misshapen to open a door or break a window, or his intelligence had shrunk with his size.
I voted for the latter.
The beast produced more drool than I’d ever seen. The closer I got to the Behemoth, the more it resembled a St Bernard with its slobbery jowls and droopy eyes.
The city extended as far as the eye could see. Behem’s mansion and the city walls sat behind me as I looked out at the colored sections of the Red City. I didn’t want it. I really didn’t.
I’d always told myself that if I ever claimed something, it would be a small cottage in the middle of the forest—away from the world. Where I could forage for mushrooms and raise quail—though I’d never done either of those things before.
But none of that mattered.
Caim had sacrificed himself for me, and though I was a fully-admitted asshole, I couldn’t let his death be in vain. I could feel him, his heartbeat inside of me. Somehow, the claiming had begun before I’d even been aware of it. My Bean Sídhe side had been suppressed for too long, and it was desperate to claim as much land as possible.
I didn’t know how to kick-start the process. It was purely guesswork at that point.
There was no way I was engaging in an in-air battle with a biblical monster, but when I claimed the city, I wouldn’t need to.
I’d go for the classic: there’s no place like home.
The Wizard of Oz was my mom’s favorite film, after all. And that’s what I wanted. A home. A place to call my own.
As the thought solidified in my mind, suddenly, it became obvious what I had to do.
The Behemoth didn’t belong here. Not in my city.
“ Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin .”
The beast swung its massive head toward me, his bulbous eyes red-rimmed and teary. It licked its lips, its tongue much too large for its mouth. Its whole body followed, swinging in my direction, and with one thundering step later, I was face to face with a creature that wanted nothing more than to eat me.
“ Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin! ” I repeated. It was an Irish Gaelic phrase my mother used to say when she wanted nothing more than to go home, drink green tea, and read a good book.
There’s no place like home.
I felt the magic ring out like a bell tower; my back jerked, and my muscles twisted. I could only imagine how it looked, but somehow, it felt more right than anything I had ever done.
Once I claimed the Red City, no one could send me away. No one could take my home from me.
As the magic recoiled against the walls like a roiling tide, it pinged back to me, slamming into my body. I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice the Behemoth batting at me like a furious kitten, blocked by a wall of magic that only I could see.
The Red City was mine.
Every root.
Every molecule of air.
Every demon. Every piece of magic.
I felt the Behemoth, like mold. Endless hunger. The other gluttony demons felt the same way. Cursed and insatiable.
Madeleine Speck had left the building, leaving behind the city's guardian.
I waved a hand, clenching a fist as I imagined the sick rot. I didn’t care where it went, but it wasn’t welcome here. Not in my city.
The behemoth couldn’t keep its feet as an invisible force dragged it to the wall. It clawed at the ground, splattering the road with its saliva as it roared in protest.
Even as it was banished from the city, it was determined to cause as much damage as possible.
I flung out my hands. “Go!” The word was laced with the same magic as my scream, but it had nothing to do with death. I felt it like a force, and the Behemoth folded out of existence. For a moment, I thought I’d killed it when I saw the other demons pouring out of Behem’s broken mansion—folding out of existence one after another. Lacing. They might have been going to Hell or just outside the city walls, but I no longer cared.
The ground, the air, the buildings, and even the walls were mine .
It would be so easy to level it all.
To wipe the slate clean. I could have my forest. I could make it so beautiful.
I could send all the demons back to Hell. I could be alone in a city of my own without answering to a single soul.
The thoughts didn’t belong to me. I wasn’t greedy. But then, maybe I’d never had a chance to be before.
It was mine.
All mine.
I lifted my hand, ready to bring it down like a hammer. Ready to make my paradise.
I reached for my chest, clasping the fabric of my shirt, as I felt the four connections there like limbs I couldn’t see. Each one was a thread, leading to one of the demons. To the Flock.
Then I felt him as he woke up, his presence in my head like a barely continued chuckle.
“Time to come down now, Banshee,” Caim whispered, the sound echoing through my mind before everything went black.