Page 97 of Seas the Reckoning

“Me? Disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel for you. You’re a worse father than a riled grizzly bear, and there’s been cases of them eating their own young!”

“Sign!” Councilman Taylor shouts, shoving the document in her face while reaching for her wrist. A snap of his hand, and a glowing quill appears in Starla’s grasp.

“Sign it, or I swear I will crush this shell and let the chips fall where they may.”

“You can’t do that!” Claude yells.

Nor’easters are no joke, and rain starts pelting us. Not lovely, comforting drops that make you want to hop around in puddles. Large, sharp blobs that smack at your skin like they’re trying to slice you open.

And worse, lightning.

It’s as if the weather is doing Councilman Taylor’s job for him.

Starla screams, throwing small sparks at her father. He bats some away, ignoring the ones that go wide. He’s toying with her. Another bolt of lightning slams into the sand, sending it shooting into the air. The resulting glass sculpture that it will create would be beautiful if it came from any other source.

Starla crushes the quill in her hands, and Councilman Taylor reaches into his pocket for the necklace.

“Hold her!” he instructs Piers. The warlock grabs Starla by the wrists, looking miserable as she sends shocks through him, but hanging on.

“Leena!” Starla yells.

Councilman Taylor holds the necklace up, shell in his hand.

“Such a shame,” he says, squeezing.

We’re out of chances.

We were so close.

I can see a crack form along the shell, and pain slams into my chest.

I’m not sure if it will kill me, but the damage to the magic’s container unquestionably impacts me, and it’s excruciating. I slump in Claude’s arms, my vision dancing with black dots.

Black and white dots.

Black and white dots in the form of a snarling Were who leaps for Councilman Taylor.

Piers shoves Starla into the sand and runs.

The councilman throws his arms up at the last moment, protecting his face and neck.

The necklace goes flying.

36

BROKEN ENGAGEMENTS

Councilman Taylor calls down a lightning strike, and Ji-hwan somersaults out of its path, his black and white fur coated in sand. The Were looks menacing. For a moment he moves like he’s about to charge the councilman again, but before he can, he’s forced to turn and bare his fangs at an elf running full speed across the beach, a curved sword in his hands. We were right. Councilman Taylor brought back-up.

I become dead weight, and Claude stumbles while trying to keep a hold on. I take the opportunity to twist and look for the necklace in the sand, but I don’t see it.

“This wasn’t the plan!” Claude yells at the councilman.

“Didn’t expect us to be able to find and slip by your outer defenses, hmm?” Ji-hwan yells as he dodges the angry elf.

My question of where the others are is answered when I hear a loud whoop followed by a crowd of supernaturals charging out to the beach.

Witches, warlocks, elves, and perhaps a Fae or two are in front. They’re not so much on the attack as on the defensive, backing onto the beach with their hands raised protectively as they throw magic at their pursuers—a volmander with lava lining his arms, a one-eyed Were whose teeth are bared in an unhinged smile, a gargoyle buffeting the sands with wind from his wings, and others.