"How peculiar that you know how to cry for the dead, witch," Augustine scoffs, unmoved by the display of emotion unfolding in the center of the room.
"She's still alive!" Circe denies. "Her heart may not beat, but her body still breathes."
"That thing you're holding is a well-preserved corpse at best. A parasite."
"Parasite? Ironic, coming from an Augustine. Your whole bloodline, whoring out their lives for pitiful crumbs of political power and influence."
Circe's comment seems to strike a nerve as Augustine's cocky expression sours. "Someone ought to cut out your tongue, witch."
Circe huffs, "Big words for a sniveling child. Are you still upset that I killed your daddy? He only has himself to blame - he thought he was so strong after the Bureau gave him a shiny new familiar to use. But what you Doves don't understand is that when you break the mind and spirit of a familiar down into a mindless tool, then the tool is really only as useful as its user. Unfortunately, daddy dearest just didn't pass muster."
No longer willing to hear another word, Augustine pulls out his revolver, aims at Circe, and empties his chamber, but the bullets merely disappear into the folds of her fluttering cloak. "Rosie! Is the anti-magic field still live?" Augustine asks.
"Yes, sir!" Rosie confirms.
"Then what the hell?"
"It's been nearly half a century" Circe coughs out, pulling off her cloak to reveal the glowing runes marring her already scarred skin. "Did you really think the community would just sit around and let you Doves abuse your power over us?"
But whatever Circe had done to herself clearly came at a cost. Circe coughs into her hand again, streaks of blood spattered across her palm. When Circe turns her attention back to Issac, her expression is filled with genuine regret and sorrow. "I'm sorry it has to be this way, Issac. I really am. Won't you please just let me kill you? It'll be painless, I promise."
Augustine reloads his revolver and empties another barrel at Circe, but like the first time, Circe makes the bullets disappear with a wave of her robe.
Augustine sends wordless instructions to the familiar under his command, and Calla lunges toward Circe.
With a flick of her wrist, the witch conjures a ball of bright blue flame, hurling it at the Demon Cat. Calla roars in pain as the flames scorch her fur, but remains underrated in its warpath. Instead of dodging, Calla calls upon the trees of the surrounding forest to shoot out of the ground and immobilize the hissing monster in their winding roots, bringing the Demon Cat to a stop mere inches away from Circe's outstretched arm. In a nearly impossible feat, Circe grabs Calla by her collar and banishes the cat from the battlefield, leaving only behind her collar and the skeleton of her tree root prison.
"She's protecting Artemis!" Alice announces. "That's her weakness!"
Circe rounds on Alice with a livid glare, but as Alice had observed, Circe is hesitant to stray too far from her familiar's body.
"Listen to me, Circe! All of this is Hemlock's fault! He's the one who killed Artemis! I have proof! Right now, I have Atermis's soulstone inside -" A hand around her throat stops her from saying any more.
"Naughty little rabbit, supporting cast should know their place," Hemlock chides. "I was saving that little bit of drama for another play. But, I guess it's my fault for telling you too soon."
A spear of light impales Hemock and knocks him backward, his grip loosening on Alice in surprise. If Circe's expression was livid before, now it was downright murderous.
YOU ARE READING
Cloverfield Magic
Teen FictionIssac Anderson and his parents move into a quaint little town to escape a troubled past, but Cloverfield is not what it seems. It's not long before Issac finds himself in the center of a century-old plot packed to the brim with eccentric spellcaster...
