Descendants of Magic

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Chapter 45 End of book One


“Stay behind me, kid,” the soldier ordered.

Tyrome pulled out his doll. “Dolly, take him out!” The doll sprang into action.

“You think that weak, petite spirit is a match for me?” the Erlking laughed.“Oh, you didn’t know?” he realized, looking at Tyromes face. “So many young people nowadays are unaware of their own cultural history.” he sighed, then dodged a stream of fire that the doll blew at him, its eyes glowing.

“I’m very aware of my history!” Tyrome snapped. The Erlking dodged another attack from the doll and shot a vine at it. The doll formed a fireball and hurled it at him, the flames singed his arm. Cursing, the Erlking’s eyes flashed, and the earth started to tremble so hard that it knocked Tyrome and his doll to the ground.

“This isn’t a toy for children.” Greyman picked up the doll with Rayquan’s hand and put it into his own pocket. Then his vines wrapped themselves around the soldier’s neck and Tyrome heard a sicking snap. Before he could react, Greyman’s vines seized his legs and dragged him inside the car door, shoving him into the front seat as he kicked and struggled. But the vines pinned him to the seat; one tendril even buckled his belt for him. The Erlking, still in his cousins form, climbed on top of him. “Lisen closely; your cousin is alive in moi’s domain. He’ll remain so as long as you do what I say. Now, if you’d stayed trapped in that house we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all, but let’s not dwell on what should of been.”

Tyrome opened his mouth to tell the scary creature to shove it, but the Erlking put a hand over his mouth. “Now, I must warn you refusal by way of heroic retorts, or stinging insults, or even physical assault may seem good and be of the utmost temptation but will result in your cousin in the Hunt’s stew pot.” the Erlking warned. “Accepting my offer will insecure your cousins survival. ” The Erlking smiled pleasantly as he made his ultimatum. “Keep in mind, garcon, it’s a choice you have to live with.”

Tyrome’s brain was racing, he had always thought the superheroes who risked the world for their girlfriends in those old comics were ridiculous, but now here in this moment he realized just how those heroes must of felt; saving the world sounded like grand idea until one was actually called to sacrifice not their life but someone else’s. Some might call it selfish, and maybe they were right, but was it was also not selfish to condemn Rayquan to die alone, torn apart by monsters at fifteen years old, abandoned by the very person who swore he wouldn’t abandon him like others had? Rayquan might be prickly, hypocritical, and harsh but he had also kicked the ass of anyone who called Tyrome a retard or worse. He’d followed Tyrome into the abandoned asylum while grumbling and rolling his eyes. This dude maybe playing you, ain’t know Rayquan alive, you saw how he killed those military dudes, said his more logical side. Besides if I say yes, maybe I can figure something out. If I say no he might snap my neck as well. Tyrome realized.

“Answer, please,” Greyman said evenly.

“Fine, I’ you.” As he said these words the vines slid away from him, unwinding from around his limbs and torso slowly, and one even patted his cheek in a way that made his flesh crawl they disappeared back into the earth.

“Wonderful I’m so pleased to be working with you.” Then the erlking started whistling a jointy little tune as he picked up the soldier’s corpse and shoved it into the trunk.

“You know we could get pulled over by the cops.” he tried.

“More snacks for the road!” Greyman said cheerfully. Tyrome felt nothing at the admission that Greyman would be eating the soldier’s corpse. He was gone, Tyrome could do nothing for him and honestly anything that kept the Erlking from eyeing his drumsticks was welcome.

“So how are the twins?” Greyman asked, sounding a bit awkward.

“You care?” Tyrome asked.

“I got Rashell his first teddy bear, I walked Rayanna through her first feeding when her alcoholic mother couldn’t be bothered.” Greyman responded.

“So you was nice some of the time whoop-de-do” Tyrome said flatly.

“Everyone loves to see me as the bad guy,” Greyman complained.

“You have the corpse of a person in your trunk,” Tyrome reminded him.

“I have a reasonable explanation for that,” the Erlking protested.

“It’s called yo stomach,” the human retorted.

“You try being half werewolf and connected to nature. I’m not sure which side uses more energy.” he grumbled.

“So just how hungry do you get?” Tyrome tried to keep it casual.

“Don’t worry, if I start craving your flesh I’ll go hunting” the Erlking rolled his eyes.

" You was on the phone” the boy stated

" the Amadan Dubh one of moi’s people stark raving but a great mimick” the Erkling praised.

" If you so smart why you need my....” Tyrome was cut off the sensation of Greyman shoving something into his neck. The erklings toothy grin started to blur before his eyes.

” I have quite a surprise for your petite group” then Tyrome saw Rayquan’s face twist, there was a sharp crack his nose grew smaller, the fat under the neck melted away into a strong chin. Tyrome head spung as he looked at the fading image of his own mocking, hungry face then everything went black.

The end of book one

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