Free Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3) by Morgan Blayde Page A

answered.  “Drugs aren’t working quite right.”
    Damn!   There had to be something I could do.  What had Michiko said about fox spirits? I dug it out of my near-perfect memory: they can create fire, walk in dreams, and create very real illusions—according to legend…  How much of that was true?  And helpful?  Illusions and fire.  Cassie had no trouble crafting fire into armor and sword.  I could do a sword, but that was about it, and where my sword was all shadow and flame, Cassie could make a freakin’ laser-beam saber.  Frustration gnawed at the lining of my stomach.  There was so much more I needed to know.
    Missy lifted her hands, gesturing strangely as though writing on the wind.  She laughed as her girls, wounded and not, grew silent within the spell circle, crumpling to lie still and discarded on the gravel.
    Cassie paused, still a few steps inside the design.  Her gaze shot to Missy, then traced the pattern she occupied.  Speed blurred her as she leaped, but the response came too late—she hit the edge of the pattern and was flung back inside by a barrier that briefly lit up a sickly yellow as she touched it.  In sympathetic response, my whole body jolted as well. 
    Everything came clear.  The pattern on the roof was the focus for a spell.  Missy was an awful terrorist, but apparently a great witch.  Her dark mojo also explained why demons were getting underfoot lately.  Either she was trafficking with them, or her vibe was drawing them in like ants to a picnic.
    As I stared at Missy’s back, my heart flamed with hate.  She’d thought nothing at all of sacrificing her people to trap Cassie.  I was in the hands of an utterly ruthless bitch.
    Evelyn shouted, “You keep going through our newbies like that, we’ll need another recruitment drive.”
    Missy shrugged and turned back to me, eyes overly innocent, a saccharine smile in place. She raised her voice to be heard over the bludgeoning whumping of the helicopter, “Well, that was fun.  Don’t worry, my darlings, there’s more ahead.  Shall we go?”
    “I’d rather chew glass,” I hissed.
    Her smile widened.  “In due time, Precious.”
    Golden eyes in the back of my mind opened, ablaze with warning.  Taliesina chided, Be harmless.  Look for weakness.  Stupid to invite injury.
    Damn.  She had a point.
    Missy caught Evelyn’s gaze, “Evil, keep a close watch on her.  She’s tricky.  Smart too, accelerating her metabolism to burn the drug out of her system.  It’d be nice if we could do that.”
    Evelyn produced a pair of restraints and cuffed each of my wrists to the wheelchair armrests.  She set them tight, too tight, enjoying the girrrrr of aggravation I gave her.
    Missy strolled on, curving around the summoning circle she’d set.  Evelyn pushed me along in Missy’s wake.
    On her feet, Cassie padded along the inside of her prison.  Her hands glided along the barrier, making patches of it muddy yellow.  Her tail lashed vigorously.  Her fire seemed gone, out of reach, her sword evaporated.  The mask of her human face returned—jaw clenched with impotent rage, muscles jumping below the skin.  Her eyes were on me, shadowed with grief, offering silent promises. 
    I knew she wasn’t giving up.  She never gave up.  She’d come for me, somehow.  She’d search for me under every boulder in hell if she had to.  I felt a small coal fanning off the cold fear in my heart, and craned my neck to watch her over my shoulder for as long as possible.
    Taliesina watched through my eyes, hunched miserably in my mental shadows, her ears drooping, tails quivering with irrepressible frustration.  Mommy…
    The pilot came out to help manhandle my wheelchair through the gaping hatch, stowing me out of the way like so much luggage.  Not even a window seat.  
    The pilot and Evelyn made several trips to get the wounded that had been carried to the roof.  They were stacked like a cord of wood.  The copter doors slammed