Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

Asha

A winding dirt path snakes away from the road. In the distance, almost camouflaged among the trees, rise the dark spires of another mansion. I think of predators in the animal kingdom blending in with their environment to keep from tipping off their prey. A lion’s tan coat matching the grass of the plain. An arctic fox disappearing into the white blur of the tundra.

Fucking cowards. In this mansion, many of my people were tortured for entertainment. Others died for it. And my brother… his fate has been yet to be determined.

With slitted eyes, I regard the house not with fear but with the steely cold belonging to vengeance. I see you, bastards . And I’m coming for you.

I shift in my seat, and my body aches in response. Yes, I could use a few nights sleep. No, I won’t be waiting that long to come for this asshole.

Orson pulls to the side of the road. “It’s probably best to trek on foot from here,” he says. “We don’t want the crunch of rocks beneath our tires to announce our arrival.”

“No, we don’t,” says Braxton, emerging from slumber with a quickness that makes me wonder if he was ever really asleep. Of course, a part of him never sleeps. It’s that vigilant watchman in his thoughts, the one who took up post when Braxton joined the armed forces.

Max betrays his grogginess when he replies with slurred speech, “ Evrybody reddy ?”

Braxton gives him a fraternal jab. “Where’s that field alertness?”

Rubbing his left eye, Max says, “Right next to me, with my brother.”

They’re joking, but the truth is that Max was in worse shape than Braxton, although the both of them had taken quite a beating. They weren’t saying it, but they were sleeping just as much from exhaustion as they were to heal in time for this next battle. Both men are alert in general, but right now they aren’t at their best.

“How are your injuries?” I ask, scanning them over.

“After fast food and a nap, we’re good as new.” Braxton grins, leaning forward and planting a kiss on my lips.

Trouble yawns, annoyed by the movement, then settles back in. The poor guy has had a busy day.

My gaze slides to Max. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

He’d taken a solid beating by the creepy asshole. If he’s still hurt, this is the time to speak up. Before we end up in a dangerous situation.

“I’m fine. Just ready to be done with this.”

“You sure?” I ask.

His Enforcer facade softens. “I’ve been through worse. Trust me. We just need to focus on the mission.” Then his gaze runs over me. “How about you?”

I’m still weak. Definitely not in fighting form. My body aches. My magic feels drained, but I’m not willing to wait any longer. Once this Blood Mage learns about what we did at the party, he’ll go into hiding. Probably kill anyone left here and run for it.

This may be my last chance to find out what happened to Simon.

“I can handle tonight,” I tell him. Because I will. I need to finish this.

We all look toward the looming castle. Dread and anticipation mix together in my stomach, leaving behind a strange feeling that sets my nerves on edge. I’ve mourned my brother over and over again. I’m afraid to even hope now for anything more than to find his body, but I know I do, somewhere deep down.

Orson taps his fingers on the console. “Do we have any idea of what might be inside?”

Max hesitates. “I got what information I could without informing the Enforcers of our plans. The mansion itself is sixty-five thousand square feet. The owner of the home is one Brently Cox. His occupation is unknown. He has no known criminal record.”

“So, basically, we don’t know anything useful?” Braxton asks, irritation flashing across his face.

It sounds like it. “At least we might know the name of the asshole.”

Orson clears his throat. “Earlier, I tapped into the satellite surveillance footage and ran a scan on the magical properties in the area surrounding the building. The mansion has shown zero movement from people in the last twenty-four hours. However, there is a cloud of dark magic around the building. I couldn’t tell more than that, because I haven’t encountered this person, or peoples, magic before.”

“Great,” Braxton says. “So we know one or more beings capable of dark magic may or may not be in the building.”

“Basically,” I say. Comforting.

Max points toward the mansion. “Alright, surgical strike. Everybody stays close on this one. No breaking off into teams. We all clear the house, room by room. Mission objective: extract Simon and escape unharmed.” He rotates his shoulder with a grimace. “If possible, without any engagement whatsoever.”

“C’mon, you’re tough. You can handle a few more Blood Mages,” Braxton teases, that cocky smile on his lips.

Max looks at his twin intently. “I’ll tear a Blood Mage apart without hesitation, make no mistake. It’s just safer if none of us have to.” He pops open his door. “Let’s move.”

Braxton pets Trouble’s head. “Think you can handle being car sentry?”

Trouble licks his lips.

“Good boy.”

Max runs point as we hurry through the woods, following alongside the dirt driveway. Even hundreds of yards out, I start to experience the effects of dark magic. Like eddies of black smoke, it dances in the air, twirling in and out of existence, its color darker than the darkest night.

My men feel it too, even if it doesn’t entirely reveal itself to them. They can’t hear it whispering in their thoughts, beckoning. Come, Asha, give into the sweetness of midnight.

I push the voice aside, train my thoughts on my singular goal. I need to find Simon .

But still, the darkness calls to me. An ever-present force in this strange forest, which doesn’t bode well for what we’re about to face. Something in my gut is warning me that this won’t be like it was at the party. The Blood Mage here isn’t about fun and games, he’s about pain and suffering.

Or I’m wrong, and it’s just my imagination trying to frighten me.

I don’t know anything here. Just a rumor about someone seeing my brother here and the presence of dark magic. There’s no way to be sure what we’ll face inside, or even if there will be a trace of my brother.

We cross the tree line onto the property, rushing to the southern wall of the mansion. We throw our back against it and regroup. Max and Braxton communicate through a series of hand gestures that neither Orson nor I understand, but can surmise the gist of. We’re going through the window above our heads. It’s darkened, and I can’t tell what room it looks in on, but it’s the only entry point not bathed in moonlight. If there is a Blood Mage hiding in the dark, at least they won’t know we’re coming in until we’re already inside.

Max retrieves a tool from his pack that looks like just the needle from a record player. He adheres a suction cup to the glass and affixes the slender tool. It swings around the cup, cutting a perfect circle out of the window. Max reaches his arm through it and undoes the latch.

“I feel like I’m in a spy movie,” Orson whispers.

I wish.

“Ready?” asks Max.

We nod.

He lifts the window and we pour through it, crouching as we land in the dark. My shifter side allows me to move with the same grace the other guys possess. It also makes it easier to see in the dark. Things I’m really grateful for right now.

We move through one room at a time, but nothing stands out. Each room is exactly what you’d expect to find in a creepy, gothic mansion. Dark red leather and white lace seem to decorate every room, along with long curtains that conceal huge windows.

No one walks the rooms or the halls. There’s not even the sense that people live here, but there is… something else. Something I’ve never experienced before. It’s like there’s a force in the building, calling to the dark magic inside of me. Whispering to it. I’ve felt a similar calling before, but not exactly.

I don’t like it. I don’t understand it.

The urge to turn around and leave flows through me. I’m playing with fire here, and I’m afraid I’m going to get burned. Braxton’s gaze meets mine, and he runs a comforting hand down my arm, as if to remind me that I’m not here alone.

It helps. I still have a deep, instinctually desire to run, but I fight against it. And I fight not to answer the call of whatever the hell is whispering to my magic.

As we creep along the hallway, the hum of something noisy emanates from behind one of the doors. I’m drawn to it, unable to stop myself from falling out of formation and going to the door. Something in that room is important. Something in that room needs me.

My hand lifts to the knob. Max’s hand closes around mine.

Our gazes meet. He shakes his head. I narrow my eyes.

He tries to pull me away. I stand firm, my jaw tightening. Whatever’s behind this door, I need to go to it. It’s calling to me. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s a mistake, but I have to do it.

Jerking my hand away from him, I reach for the knob again.

“Asha,” he whispers.

“There’s something here. It’s important,” I whisper back.

They all exchange a look. I want to tell them they can follow me or not, but I’m going. Yet I hold the words back. The door is there. The pulling. The feeling. This is important. I know it.

I turn the knob, ignoring my men. Praying I’m not making a mistake.

The door peels back to reveal a strange device standing in the massive room’s center. Large, boxy machines like bulky server towers flank metal pincers generating a magic orb between them. The orb looks like a miniature black hole, perfectly black, encircled by a halo of white-gold light thin as a single hair.

My dark magic vibrates inside of me, answering the call of the magical orb, acknowledging it in a way that feels unnatural, and yet like a puzzle piece sliding into an empty spot.

I know what it is deep down, even if it seems impossible. The power source . It’s real?

This is the power source. It has to be.

The boastful Blood Mage had told the truth to his dancefloor partner. I can feel the energy given off by the orb, a hyper-concentrated ball of dark magic. I can’t say for certain how far its signal reaches, but standing so close its overwhelming power suggests a radius to encompass the country. Maybe the continent. Or even the world.

“Wow.”

“What the fuck is that?” asks Max.

I look up into his eyes and see the orb’s reflection in his gaze. “The source of the dark magic.”

“Just like the Blood Mage said.” Max looks as shocked as I feel.

“The what now?” asks Braxton, his expression confused.

But before we can answer, Orson says, “Holy fuck!”

My head spins to him. He’s staring at one area, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wh–?” I follow his gaze to see a man chained against a wall. A man I’d recognize anywhere. “ Simon! ” I cry, my heart aching with relief.

Stumbling over loosely coiled cables that cover the floor, I hurry to my brother, joy and relief rushing through me as I fight back tears. He’s chained up, wrists clamped and hoisted overhead, ankles fettered with chains bolted into the brick wall. He’s beaten and bloody, his clothes tattered, his face pale and slick with cold sweat. But he’s alive . His chest rising and falling like my hope these past few weeks.

My men are suddenly there behind me as I stare, trying to remember how to breathe. How to move. Tears spill down my cheeks, even though I know it’s not yet time for them to fall. We need to free my brother and get as far from here as we can.

Orson gives the chains a tug. Then he grabs hold of them, grunts, and pulls, but he can’t free them from the wall. Max and Braxton come to his aid, but even working together, my brother remains imprisoned.

Put away the tears. Focus. Free him. Almost instinctively, my hands glow silver with magic, and I pry the links open with my fingers one by one. My magic courses through me like adrenaline. My brain still seems unable to process what my heart has accepted so quickly.

Simon falls into my arms. “Simon?”

There’s no response.

I squeeze him tighter, shaking his bony frame. “Simon, wake up. It’s me. You’re safe.”

There’s no movement.

Desperate, I shake him even harder and raise my voice, if only by a little. “It’s Asha! Your sister. Your pack. I’m here!”

He stirs. His head lifts. It seems to take his eyes forever to open, and then they don’t seem to focus on anything at all.

“Simon, it’s Asha. It’s your sister. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

His gaze focuses on me. “Asha?” But I’m still not sure he’s seeing me.

I nod, tears gathering in my eyes.

“No, this is a trick,” he whispers, as if to himself.

My heart shatters and a sob builds in the back of my throat. “It’s not. I’m here. I promise.”

“You’re dead. Everyone’s dead.” A shudder rolls through his body.

It’s hard to breathe. “Do you remember your garden? One year, you guarded over your pumpkins, hell-bent on having bigger pumpkins than Mrs. Olivia’s. Everyone thought you were crazy, but I took turns watching them with you because I was sure that old bat would come by and break them the first chance she got.”

His gaze meets mine. “A-Asha?”

I grasp his cheek and run my thumb across the marred surface of his skin. “It’s me. We’ve come here to free you and bring you back home.”

It hits him. I see it. His face crumbles, and his eyes fill with tears.

We embrace. Tears flow freely. I fit my arms around his skinny frame with ease. He’s malnourished, weak, but alive . My brother is alive!

“Now,” I say, making sure he’s looking at me. “Go. Run up the path. We have an SUV along the side of the road. Hide in there until we’re done searching for other survivors and dealing with this bastard.”

His expression is grim. “There are no other survivors.”

My gut turns. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “There’s only me. And you now.”

I blink away tears. “Okay, then the plan only changes a little. You need to get out of here and–”

Simon looks at me like I’m mad. “I’m not going to run while you protect me.”

“Simon–”

“Asha, you’re my sister .” His voice sounds stronger. “There’s nothing out there for me. There’s only you. We’re all that’s left.”

“Other pack members survived–”

“I’m not going anywhere.” And he sounds so sure, so much like my older brother that I just want to hug and squeeze him forever.

Except I don’t deserve it. “But I left you when you needed me…I ran away and left you.”

He smiles, even though the smile is weary. “No, you didn’t. You were always here with me. I never saw you die, so my hope that you survived kept me going in my darkest moments.”

My eyes burn. “I don’t deserve you.” The world doesn’t deserve him.

His eyes glisten. “Yes, you do.”

But our reunion’s cut short by a curious sound, like a gunshot heard through water. It barely registers before I’m thrown to the ground, ears ringing, skin warm with the tingling burn of magic. The Blood Mage .

I roll onto my shoulder and see him. In the doorway, illuminated by the eerie light of the power source, stands a hefty Blood Mage. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A huge frame. He looks like the stuff of nightmares, and his hands have already begun charging his next attack.

I don’t know if I can defeat him. But I don’t have to.

Three wolves tackle the mage, sparing me a killing blow for the second time in a night as his magic explodes against the wall behind me. The mage curses, struggling to attack again, but they’re everywhere. Furry wolves with sharp teeth and claws capable of killing, but probably not this man.

We need to get my brother to safety and deal with this asshole.

I rush to my brother’s side, seated against the wall as he tries plucking his hands from the cuffs. “I can’t use my magic with these damn things on,” he says.

“Hold on,” I tell him. “Let me finish the job.” My hands charge with so much magic they become practically translucent. We both marvel at the sight, how we can see the bones glowing inside. Then I grip the metal of his cuffs and melt them down until they drip off his wrists. I repeat the process with his ankle fetters.

“Let’s kill this fucker,” he says, leveling a vicious stare on the Blood Mage.

I want to tell him that he shouldn’t. That he’s weak. That he needs to run. But he’s already launched into action, weak, unsteady, but determined.

Simon was always determined.

My mates dodge his magic attacks in their wolf form, then leap forward to nip at him, but it’s just a stalling tactic. They can’t keep this going for long.

His magic strikes Max, and he goes flying.

I shoot my silver magic toward the mage, but it hits something invisible in front of him. Something that turns black when my magic hits it, then grows translucent again.

My stomach twists. Braxton leaps out the man again, hits the invisible wall, and is thrown back. A whimper slips from him when he hits the ground. He tries to stand, but falls.

Orson sniffs the air, circling the man, a growl rolling from his throat. He tries to attack the man from behind, but he hits the invisible wall of dark magic, more gently than Braxton, and is thrown back into the wall. He rises to his feet on shaky legs, and a low growl rolls from his throat.

The mage lifts a hand to Orson.

“Wait!” I shout. The man regards me with complete and utter arrogance. “Brently Cox, it’s over. There’s more of us than you. This is your chance to escape unharmed.” I try not to let my voice waver. I try not to show him that I’m afraid he might beat us, but he can see right through me.

He smiles. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” His gaze flicks to my brother, and I step in front of Simon, a chill rolling down my spine. “I am the man who learned how to harness dark energy and turn it into something useful. Blood Mages used to be nothing, weak warlocks with useless powers, until I bound dark magic. Then, not only did I make myself and my fellow Blood Mages powerful, I made all of you.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. My voice drips with venom.

He laughs, seemingly unaware of just how much I hate him. “How was I to know how weak of spirit all of you are? How incapable you are of ignoring the whispers of the dark magic? We Blood Mages have our ways of keeping control over it, but you could not be taught, no matter how hard we tried. It was then that we realized you were good for little more than amusement. So many of our other toys died quickly when we played too roughly, but not you. No, your kind could handle just about anything.” His gaze met Simon’s. “You could handle anything. No matter how much I hurt you, you survived.”

“Is the problem your tiny dick?” I ask.

He jerks and looks at me. “What?”

I take a step forward. “Is this some tiny dick issue? Where your itty bitty worm made you feel so bad about yourself that you have to hurt others to feel better?”

Rage flashes across his face. “I’m not even going to kill you. I’m going to spend my lifetime playing with you.”

“That’s the difference between you and I. I am going to kill you ,” I say, my words low and dangerous. Then, keeping the mage in sight, I whisper to Simon, “Get behind the big black orb.”

“I’m not going to leave you–”

“I can’t do what I need to do with you out in the open. Take your shots from the shadows.”

To my surprise, he limps over and ducks down. Max and Braxton have risen to their feet, but they look wounded. I have to try not to think about what bones might be bruised or broken, because my gaze is set on the man in front of me. A man I will use dark magic on, if I have to. If it’s not enough.

A ball of black energy comes shooting at me from his hand. I leap out of the way, and it crashes into the brick wall behind me, leaving a hole in its wake. Before I can strike back, another one comes flying at me. I have to roll across the floor to avoid it, but then there’s another hole in the wall. Dust rises. I cough on it, but I’m on my feet again.

Gathering my magic, my hand glows silver, and I attack. It hits his invisible wall, and I feel my magic worming its way in. Silver light flows from me to him, and his shocked expression is brightened by my magic.

“How did you do that? That’s not dark magic. What the hell is that?”

I’m slicing through his shield. I’ll reach him soon. But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he care that my men are circling him. His gaze is fixed on me.

“They said beyond the darkness, somewhere through the orb, was a different kind of magic. A more powerful magic. Where did you find it?”

I’m trying not to let his words distract me too much from what I’m doing, but I say, “You’ll never know. Someone like you isn’t capable of it.”

His face hardens. “I’m going to capture you, and I’m going to figure it out. No matter how many torturous years it takes.”

I feel my magic slice through the shield, but he’s lifted his arm to block it. My magic flows into the darkness that covers his palm like sickly shadows. I press harder, pushing my magic into him, but he seems to keep it at bay with ease.

“How do you do that?” Simon asks, from where he’s crouched. “That magic doesn’t feel like the sick stuff they created inside of us.”

Sweat beads my forehead. “You think of goodness and light. You think of your family and your pack. You think about the moments of your life that you cherish, that bring a smile to your lips. And you think about protecting all of that, not killing.”

As I speak, my magic grows brighter and brighter, and I see fear in the Blood Mages eyes for the first time. He attacks. Balls of shadows flying toward me. I use my free hand to explode them with my light. Dark ribbons flutter to the floor and vanish.

Already, I’m breathing hard.

It’s not that I’m more powerful than him. It’s more that we’re evenly matched, but that he’s playing a game with fewer rules. I have people in the room to protect. I don’t want to give into the dark magic, if I don’t have to. This man is willing to do whatever it takes to win.

The road I’m on is harder and longer, but hopefully, I can make it.

My men circle, growling at the Blood Mage, but they’re smart enough not to attack his shield, having realized that doing so will only bring them pain. I want to tell them to go. To leave me to deal with this man, because I’m afraid he’ll turn his magic onto them, but he seems not to care the least bit about my wolves.

His attacks grow faster and stronger. The wall behind me is gone. The room beyond that is a burning mass of furniture. I’m breathing hard. My body is shaking. I switch up my attack, slinging silver magic at the man, trying to throw him off his game, or make him drop his shield while he defends against me, but nothing seems to be working.

What were you thinking? You barely understand this magic. You barely know what you’re doing. Did you really think you could defeat him?

“I remember you,” he says slowly, almost as if realization is hitting him. “You were so cocky when we first strapped you down to that bed, swearing you’d never beg, swearing you’d never scream. But you did, didn’t you? Before too long, you were screaming like the rest of them.”

My throat feels tight. I study him, trying to remember those dark days. There was so much pain. So many knives, shots, and even IVs when they were experimenting on us. The faces of my captors faded away under their instruments of torture. They became sources of pain, and not people, but is this man familiar? Do I recognize his face?

His magic hits me, and the air knocks from my lungs as I go flying back. I hit the ground on the floor of the room behind me and wheeze in breaths. My ribs feel like they’re cracked. My body feels like it’s been electrocuted and beaten to a pulp all at once.

I roll to my side and nearly throw up. My head is still spinning when I make it to my knees. I try to get to my feet, but fall every time I try. I need to get up. I need to fight.

“Asha!” My brother’s terrified voice makes me look in his direction. Everything is swimming, but I can see the Blood Mage coming toward me, stalking past my brother. There are holes in his magical shield. The edges shimmer around him, bright spaces in the air.

He lifts a hand toward me, a grin slipping over his lips.

Braxton leaps at him, somehow making it through one of the holes. His teeth bite into the flesh of the Blood Mage’s hand, and he screams. His free hand glows with dark magic, and he pounds his fist into Braxton. Braxton falls limp at his feet, and the Blood Mage steps over him.

I rise to my feet. My brother. Max. Braxton. Orson. My pack. My home.

It’s hard to drag in a full breath, but I feel my magic coursing through me. I throw a ball of silver light at the mage, but he lifts his bloody hand and darkness quenches the light. There’s barely a second to think when another ball of darkness hits me, and I slam back.

I can’t do this. I can’t get up. Everything hurts. I taste blood.

The Blood Mage shouts. Max and Orson are there biting through the holes in his shield. He screams as Max clamps down on his side, but the Blood Mage’s fist pounds into him, knocking the wolf onto the ground. Orson is struck by a ball of black light, flies back, and lies crumpled against the wall.

They look like they’re breathing. But none of my men get up.

I struggle to my feet as the Blood Mage looms closer. Behind him, Simon steps out of the safety of the contraption holding the dark orb. His fist glows a light blue that’s just a few shades darker than my silver light. I want to tell him to stop. To run. But I can’t find the strength.

He lifts his hand and pale blue magic strikes the Blood Mage. The Blood Mage falls to his knees, then rises again, dark shadows swimming around him. Fury twists his face, and he slowly turns to face my brother.

I tap into my magic and reach my hand out. My brother. Max. Braxton. Orson. My pack. My home. This is all for them. When this is done, we’ll be free.

My magic strikes like a ruthless river of magic, weaving with Simon’s. Our magic joins together in a blinding flash of lightning that casts the mage against the wall. His body breaks against the bricks with an unsettling cracking sound, and then he slumps in the mess of wires on the floor.

He’s not so powerful without his magic.

This time, he doesn’t get up, but my men slowly do. They limp toward him, and Simon and I draw closer. The wolves, wary of one final attack, crowd around the mage and bare their teeth. Simon and I approach to confirm our kill. The Blood Mage’s eyes flutter. I hear the arrhythmic drumbeat of his waning heart.

“All…I ever wanted…” he rasps, “was to create something…stronger than me. Something…the world has never seen.”

“And slap a collar on it,” Simon spits, looking tired but strong.

The mage grins, but his expression sours quickly. Blood seeps from the corner of his mouth. “Your…worthless pack spoiled it.”

“You’re the one who’s worthless,” Simon corrects before dealing his captor a killing blow. A bolt of bright blue magic fires into the sadist’s skull. It cooks his brain, the rancid odor spilling from his ears with gray smoke.

Is it really… over?

A strange sound like an overloaded laundry machine sounds, and the room begins to shake. I look down at the mage, wondering if he’s doing this, and then turn to look at the machine. Somewhere during the fight, we’d broken several of the metal things surrounding the black orb. It was on its side in the air, shaking, shrinking and expanding.

“That can’t be good.”

Simon looks back at the machine and the magic suspended between the pincers. “We have to destroy it,” he says softly. “It’s the only way to stop the dark magic from pouring into this world. If we destroy it, we’ll all be free from its pull.”

Is that true? Can that really free us from dark magic?

Simon looks back at my mates, having shifted back into their human form. They gather up their clothes to redress as Simon commands, “Go.”

“ Go ?” I feel confused. “You’re coming with us.”

He smiles, but it looks strained as he takes my hand. “I will. I just have to destroy the terrible machine first and I can’t do it with you here.”

Why not?

I squeeze his hand. “Simon?—”

“Go, Asha. This is something only I can do. I’ve seen them restore themselves using the orb, I know how it works. But if you’re here, it will distract me, and I need absolute focus. Okay?”

I nod reluctantly. My head hurts. My whole body hurts, and it’s hard to breathe, but something feels wrong.

“Go. Go now, get as far as you can.” I convey my alarm with a look of urgency, but he assuages my fear with a smile. “Just so you’re out of reach of its influence.”

Out of its reach? “But you’ll be safe?”

He touches my cheek. “I love you. I promise we’ll be together.”

My men have been watching my brother and I. When my brother’s gaze meets theirs, a silent understanding seems to pass between them that I can’t figure out.

“Come on, Asha,” Max says, steering me toward the door.

“Hurry, as far as you can go,” Simon says, emphasizing each word in a tired voice.

We obey, racing from the mansion as quickly as we can manage, back down the dirt path towards the main road. As we reach the car, I feel a tremor beneath my feet. There’s a warm bloom of heat at my back, and I see our shadows cast against the pavement, traced in a terrible orange light. An impossibly loud sound comes, so loud that it swallows all other sounds.

I spin around to see the mansion ripped apart by an enormous explosion.

The dark magic permeating the air evaporates, but so, too, does my hope.

Simon’s dead .