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Not bad.
Josie’s raw skill is there, but she needs fine-tuning to turn her into a force. She must stop focusing on taking a defensive stance and switch to an offensive strategy. Otherwise, her future opponents—vampire, werewolf, witch, or whatever—will eventually overpower her.
After three vampires, Josie loses steam.
In a real battle, that would mean almost certain death, but I won’t let it go that far tonight. Or ever. Even if she were incapable of protecting herself, she will always be safe with me.
But of course she is capable of that and much more. I knew she was holding out. Any witch the goddess binds to Rune Leifson has to be a force.
And that she is.
Melvin is the next at bat. An unfortunate name for an unfortunate man.
Josie pivots as he comes around her, body poised like a coiled spring in anticipation of his attack. But when the vampire lunges towards her with a snarl, she doesn’t dodge.
Her eyes shut tight, and the moment Melvin’s hand dares to graze her arm, a spark of energy surges through Josie’s veins, her will channeling the very essence of her magic as she zaps Melvin with so much power that his scraggly hair frizzes and stands on end.
With a fluid motion, she counters his advance, her palm a conduit for her power. A searing spell bursts forth, an arc of flames that ignites upon contact with his flesh.
His anguished cry echoes through the air as his skin blisters and smolders, the scent of singed flesh mingling with the heady atmosphere of the club. The vampire stumbles back, clutching his scorched hand as he flees the stage.
The next vampire takes the stage. One after another, Josie fends them off.
“She is incredible,” I say to myself, fully enraptured by my witch.
I watch until Josephine’s movements begin to slow and grow sluggish with the weight of her fatigue. Even then, Josie holds off her fifth attacker, Draven, lashing out with just enough energy to keep him from advancing on her.
But Draven has barely started, and circles her. He’s a cunning fucker and I worry in her depleted state, she might be in trouble.
Again and again, he tests her defenses and drains her energy. He’s biding his time, and it’s obvious in the panicked look in Josie’s dark gaze that she realizes it.
She won’t win this one.
I’m about to call the spectacle to an end when a sudden swell of magic stops me in my tracks. It brings the whole room to a standstill, all of us watching, transfixed.
Raising both hands to the ceiling, Josie screams as she unleashes the spell. Blinding light erupts from her palms, filling the dim club.
“Fuck.” I hiss in pain as my arm sizzles where the sunlight touches, and I have to duck behind the edge of the stage in the safety of the shadows. I watch my skin knit itself back together until the blinding light of Josie’s spell dies out.
Peeking over the edge of the stage, I catch sight of the vampire first. Draven lies curled up on the wood now slick with his blood, his skin bubbled and blistered and oozing even as his body tries to mend itself.
With a dull thud from the center of the stage, my eye is drawn to Josephine as she collapses to a knee, her magic unleashed, her body spent.
She is truly amazing.
“That’s enough.” I let out an ear-splitting whistle that ricochets through the club and call the whole thing to an end.
Josie has proven her prowess to every person in the room, including herself.
Mission accomplished.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JOSIE
Dozens of blood-red eyes lock on me from all angles as I push to my feet and stand in the center of the stage. Thankfully, no more vampires approach once Rune rescinds his offer.
The adrenaline that had fueled me through sparring with five vampires has ebbed, leaving behind a weariness that settles deep into my bones.
