Page 90 of Bedeviled
Memnon still stares determinedly at the man. “Revive,” he incants again.
It says a great deal about the sorcerer’s magic that his eyes haven’t yet started glowing nor has his hair lifted, which means he’s not engaging his full power for a spell that will bring back the dead.
His magic sinks into Kincaide again. This time, however, the man’s whole body jerks violently, and he gasps in a shocked breath of air.
“What in the bloody hell?” he rasps out.
Guess Cole didn’t enjoy teatime with the devil.
“I’m honoring your wishes,” Memnon says. He pats Cole’s cheek. “You did well.”
Cole is still drawing in large lungfuls of air. As he’s recovering, Memnon’s magic rolls out of him again, and a long strand of it slips into Cole’s inner suit pocket, withdrawing his phone.
The device floats to Memnon, and the sorcerer plucks it from the air.
“Now,” Memnon continues, his voice hardening as he hands Kincaide his phone. “Call Irina.”
Gingerly, Cole sits up, coughing and rubbing at his chest. “Why?” he asks.
I feel a stab of pity for the man. Kincade looks like he not only met the Reaper but had a night out with the dude.
“We’re going to see if it worked.”
“If what wor…” Kincaide’s eyes widen, then he rapidly accesses Irina’s number on his phone and dials it.
What happens if it didn’t work? I ask.
Memnon’s voice is grim in my head. Then we try again. They usually don’t survive a second round though.
Kincaide better wish on his left nutsack that this did the trick.
Faintly, I can hear the other end of the line ringing.
“Put it on speaker,” Memnon commands.
“Kincaide?” a young woman says.
My heart drops at the sound of her voice.
“This isn’t Kincaide,” Memnon cuts in, taking the phone from Cole. “I am, however, someone who is very interested in releasing you from your bond.”
The silence across the line is loud. Or maybe it’s heavy—with pain and secrets and whatever else she may carry around.
“Are you still there?” Memnon asks.
“Yes,” she says hoarsely.
“I imagine Kincaide had some rules in place—perhaps there are things you are not allowed to say.”
From the other side of the line, I hear a small noise. I cannot tell if it’s agreement or not, but Memnon takes it as such.
“I want you to do me a favor and try to say one of those things now.”
Another long stretch of silence passes and I hear Irina’s shaky inhalation.
Her voice comes out as a whisper. “I think Kincaide is the foulest piece of shit there ever was.”
Across from us, Kincaide clenches his jaw, though he cannot quite suppress his grimace.
