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and entwine,

This enemy of mine.”

Instantly, the orbs of lights I’d taken just for a source of illumination, zipped forward and wrapped themselves around Hawkins like a cocoon, stopping him in his tracks and canceling his forward momentum. He bucked and raged, his knotted muscles bulging as he attempted to break free. But, no matter how much pressure he exuded, he could only ever move his arms a few inches to either side, before the spell snapped them back into place. He was trapped.

“You made a mistake in coming here,” Isabelle spoke up, separating herself from the crowd. She crossed her arms over her generous chest and glared at the monster who had dared to interrupt their festivities. “Why do you disturb the Coven of the Gilded Moon during their merrymaking, Creature?” It was a touch too dramatic for my tastes, but I guess she had to keep up appearances.

Hawkins face screwed up into a mask of absolute hatred.

“Because you bastards are the reason I don’t have anything,” he spat. “All my life, failure after failure, until I was convinced that I was cursed or that God hated me. Little did I know that there was a whole secret society out there, with magical powers, taking everything for themselves.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“AM I?”” he screamed, a vein in his cheek bulging before bursting bits of bloody crystal all over the ground. “All my life, there’s always been someone better than me, hogging all the glory. In school, there was always someone smarter. In the army, there was always someone faster or stronger. Even when I got out, I couldn’t get ahead without an advanced degree or millions of dollars already in my pocket. But, all around me, I saw people pass me by, living the dream. At first, I thought it was just Lady Luck spitting in my eye. But when I saw that bitch doing real magic in her own back yard, things started falling into place.”

Now it made sense. It was a classic case of not taking responsibility for an unfulfilled life. Back in ancient times, when something went wrong or calamity struck, they blamed the gods. Usually, they’d sacrifice a couple of bulls, maybe a virgin or two, and trust that things would improve.

A couple hundred years ago, if the crops failed or a woman miscarried, it was the fault of witches who were subsequently hanged or burned at the stake. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred these were just normal folks who had a mental illness or just preferred to keep to themselves.

It seemed as if history was repeating itself again.

“Now,” Hawkins went on, “it’s my time to shine. I’m going to make you feel every bit as helpless as I felt all these years. And when you die screaming, you’ll know that it was Darren Hawkins who sent your miserable souls to hell.”

The air around us suddenly grew heavy, as Hawkins began tapping into the energy stored in the crystals. They glowed with a sickly luminescence that was nauseating to look at; a far cry from the clean, vibrant power they usually held. He used this energy to push against the light shield that encapsulated him, straining with the forces he didn’t understand, but were a part of him now.

At first, nothing happened. The binding spell just grew all the more brighter and began to hum. The crowd observed this with interest and humor, like watching a monkey play with a computer. It was funny to watch a base animal struggle with something it didn’t understand. At least, it was funny until the monkey hacked into your bank and transferred all your money to a secret account overseas.

My eyes fell on Isabelle. She wasn’t laughing. The monkey, it seemed, was close to guessing her password.

“Lace, we gotta start funneling these people towards the exit,” I whispered urgently.

“How? Yell ‘FIRE’ and hope they run for the door? I doubt that’ll happen.” I doubted it too, but I had to try something. My instincts were screaming that the restraining spell on Hawkins was nearing its breaking point.

Out of options, I pulled my sidearm and fired three shots into the air in rapid succession. The acoustics of the large room served to enhance the shots, causing all in attendance to flinch and look at me in alarm.

“Listen up!” I shouted in my most authoritative voice. “The Atlanta PD is on the way here with about a dozen patrol cars, all filled with highly motivated officers just looking to make a big bust. You’ve all got about sixty seconds before they arrive and put everyone here in handcuffs.” I looked pointedly at the crowd, many of whom were dressed in garb provocative enough to make a hooker blush, some wearing nothing at all, and a good many of them under the influence or carrying substances of varying illegal natures. “You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

It was a good bluff, one of my best. Several alarmed looks passed among the party goers, until Hawkins’ coarse laugh filled the room, sending chills up my spine.

“I should have expected to find you here, Detective,” he said, fixing me with his one, good eye. “When my little friend failed to finish you off, I thought maybe I hadn’t summoned him right or you escaped by some fluke.” He gave a grim chuckle. “It never even occurred to me you were part of this magic shit. It figures, though.”

The ‘little friend’ he was referring to had to be the Smiling Man. I suppressed a shiver at the memory and took a step forward.

“You need help, Darren,” I said, trying to refer to him as a person. Maybe if I could establish some kind of rapport, he’d think twice about going postal on innocents. “Those crystals are eating you alive. You’re going to die unless you let me help you.” His face twisted up into

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