Hmm. Havent gotten to Genesis Awry yet? Maybe you should. Here is a snippet: A voice broke in from behind him. “Morgan—I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the voice, or the words he wanted to hear. Moving with slow and deliberate intent, he stood. He was barely aware of his actions when he tucked the chain and ring into a side pocket of his vest. Although he didn’t want to look at the source, he pivoted around. “Your words mean nothing.” He glared. Hard. It would take every last ounce of energy he had, but he intended to incinerate Celeste where she stood. He didn’t care if it reduced his brain to ashes. He had nothing to lose. Face going sheet white, Celeste raised her hands and took a fast step back. “Oh, no. Please. Don’t make me throw a death hex at you.” Her threat was her undoing. Morgan’s fury turned animalistic; a vicious red-rage driven to slash and burn. All sense of sanity crumbled, and with it went the last of his self-restraint. The beast lurking in the darkest corner of his mind awakened, and fed. Spontaneous frission took place as cold disdain metamorphosed into a blaze of pure incandescent energy. Throwing his hands palm out, he flung a curse her way. “Go hifreann leat.” Go straight to hell. A rush of snapping flames sprang up from nowhere, trapping Celeste in the center of a massive inferno. A scream broke from her throat. She threw her hands up in front of her face as the conflagration seized her in its fiery grip. Crossing her arms at the wrist, she twined her thumbs and spread her fingers, as if imitating a bird in flight. A litany of words streamed out. As she chanted, she lifted and parted her arms. Palms turning outward, she pushed the flames away from her body. They retreated, and then extinguished. Celeste smirked and stepped out the smoldering circle. Wisps of smoke and a few cinders lingered. She smashed them with the twist of one dainty shoe. Her clothing was singed, but she was otherwise unharmed. “Is that all you’ve got?” Licking the tip of one finger, she drew a hash mark in the air. “Celeste, one. Morgan, zero. Care to try again?” She eyed him. “By the look of things, I don’t think you’ve got it in you.” Morgan flexed his fingers. Strangely there was no pain. He was numb. So numb he could barely make out the beat of his heart or the breath drawn into his lungs. “I would not be so sure.” It was a bluff. He had nothing, not a single mental spark, left to throw at her. His mind was blank, a void. All he had were his hands, and the desire to put them around her neck. And squeeze. The idea there would be consequences for such a violent act vanished. Without the ability to reason, he launched himself toward Celeste. She saw him coming. “Oh, shit!” Pivoting on her heel, she ran like the hounds of Hades were nipping at her rear. She wasn’t fast enough. Morgan’s hand shot out, circling one of her arms. Shifting his weight, he swung her around and shoved her back, propelling her toward the fountain. Her legs struck the stone rim, hitting hard. Knees bucking under the force he’d levered against her, her limbs went askew. She barely had time to gasp before hitting the water. Ignoring the wet, Morgan dove in. Icy water drenched him to the skin, but he didn’t feel the cold or care. The fountain, a ridiculous extravagance, was the size of a small wading pool. It was certainly deep enough to drown someone in. Celeste immediately surfaced, gasping and shivering from shock and cold. “I can’t believe you did that!” His hand shot out, delivering a solid smack against her cheek. “One way or another I am sending you to into the next world.” Staring in disbelief, Celeste tried to shield herself from another blow. “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she babbled. “I was just trying to help you.” His vision darkened. His sanity, already stretch taut, snapped. “You can help by making me a widower.” Throwing his weight on her, his hands found her shoulders, pressing her down. Her face disappeared beneath the arctic surface. Celeste shifted into survival mode. Nails clawing at his face, she writhed and bucked. Fear spurred her strength, and she managed to get her head above water. “By the gods Morgan, think about what you’re doing,” she spluttered, drawing in heaving breaths of air. He refused to relent. “I already know what I am doing. Once you are dead, I will turn myself over to the Sclydian council for trial. They will certainly be glad to execute me at the behest of the Triad, thereby ending the poison that is my life.” His grip tightened. “I believe it would be suicide by higher authority. Perhaps they can finish what I never could.” Her fingers dug into his vest, ripping the material. She was holding on for dear life, determined not to go under again. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Morgan was past listening. Blanking his mind, he hardened his heart and did what he had to do. “I see no other.” He pushed her back under the murky water.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 09:05:41 +0000
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