Deadwater Kings • Part I ✓

29. THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS

Under normal circumstances, she'd leave the bullet there. She had several slugs nestled in her body, but unless her sigils got their shit together, it was too risky to leave it close to an artery. She pulled the knife out and jammed her fingers inside.

She breathed hard, barely restraining a scream. Her sigils finally moved, but she pressed them back. It wouldn't be very helpful if she healed with her fingers stuck inside.

She worked her way through the torn flesh, blood trickling down her thigh and dripping on the floor. Finally, her fingers connected with metal. A shock of pain electrified her bones. Grinding her teeth together, she ripped out the offending item and grabbed the rubbing alcohol, dousing the open wound in it.

Lin jammed her knuckled into her mouth to hold back the scream. The bullet dug into her palm.

Her sigils worked their way into her, pulling the muscle and sinews back into place. She sucked in a breath as  a bone fragment caught on a nerve. 

She sank to the grimy floor, her entire body complaining. There wasn't enough room to stretch out her legs, so she just sat with her knees almost touching her chest, waiting for her body to put itself back together. 

The pain receded slightly. Just enough that she could open her eyes without seeing stars. She swallowed bile and checked her neck again. Her skin was flat and smooth again, not even a scar left behind. It didn't usually take that long to heal. 

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the shelves, slats digging into her back and neck. Blood covered her from head to toe, most of it belonging to other people. Her father's jacket was effectively ruined, but she was pretty sure Razo expected that. She picked up a towel from one of the shelves and scraped her blades. The blood had half-dried and turned to a sticky mess that smeared more than anything else. After a while, she gave up and shoved her knives into their sheaths. 

"Come on, they're waiting," she whispered to herself.

Lin just wanted to sit in the closet forever. Just wanted to stay there until someone tried to drag her out so she could kill them, too. 

Instead, she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the darkness at the edge of her vision. She turned out the light and left.

A groan like thunder shook the walls. Windows rattled in their frames and the lights flickered. 

Then, the floor tilted. 

Lin cursed and grabbed at the doorframe to keep from sliding off her feet. The familiar sound of screaming, muffled by the walls, joined in the din. 

Lin scrambled against the angle of the ground, climbing up without really knowing where she was going. Her sigils sang. 

A witch was near.

A witch was causing this.

Magic, when Lin focused enough to see it, was wire-taut and imbued with purpose. She followed the current of it, her heart racing as it plunged below her feet. 

The building rumbled around her, great crashes shaking the floor. The walls lanced with cracks. Paint flaked down over her. The tile floor swelled a few meters in front of Lin, stone breaking and lifting away as some insurmountable force ripped the island in two.