The Serpent's Curse by Lisa Maxwell (read an ebook week .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Lisa Maxwell
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Harte knew it was a lie. But even if he’d wanted to hand himself over, his feet were glued in place and his head was filled with the riotous fury of the angry goddess.
“Suit yourself,” Jack murmured. “Seshat…” This time it was not Jack’s voice, but a voice far more ancient and terrible that echoed through Harte’s mind. “You think to escape my power?” Jack laughed, a cackling that sounded like the cracking of dry bones. “The boy cannot save you now. When my tower comes alive, you will have nowhere to hide. One way or another, before this night ends, your power will finally be mine.”
The energy in the room crackled again, and suddenly the noise of the crowd returned. But Jack was lifting his arm to silence them. “There is no need to fear those who hide among us,” he told the crowd. “Not any longer. Those who have attacked our city, those here in our noble ranks pretending goodwill when only evil lurks within their dark hearts, cannot escape our notice any longer. It begins here, with the final defeat of the Thief. Tonight, when we protect our cities and our people from the threat of feral magic once and for all.”
The crowd was cheering, screaming its frenzied assent. They were with Jack now in the way only a crowd can be with someone—pushed on by an inertia impossible to harness or control.
“Years ago, we set about to protect our way of life. The tower in California demonstrated what might be done with enough fortitude, but Roosevelt bowed to the weakness of his party. Our own party will not bow. We will have our justice for those innocents brought low by the terrible danger of feral magic. Innocents like our brothers who were slain last evening.” He ripped back a drape from what had appeared to be a table on the stage and revealed a lever-like mechanism. “And we will have our justice now.”
The electricity that ran through the crowd had nothing to do with magic. It was a miasma of hate and anticipation, righteousness and cowardice churning as one.
“The other candidates have not answered the question of how they will bring the illegal magic to heel once and for all, but I will answer that question for myself. Tonight. With your support, we will put an end to the danger feral magic presents to Chicago once and for all.” Jack paused as the crowd cheered wildly, and then he leaned close to the microphone. “Are you with me?” he shouted. “Shall we put into action the promise of the great men who came before us?”
He had most of the room on his side as he held his hand to his ear, urging their cheers to grow, but not all. There were those who looked unsure. Others were already moving toward the still-locked doors. Either they didn’t want to be part of this moment or they were afraid for their own lives.
It wasn’t a surprise. Harte knew too well that there would always be those who would choose to side with the Order and the Brotherhoods even if the old magic flowed within them. But the illusion of safety was only that—an illusion—and as people reached the doors, they found them locked and guarded. Impassable.
Harte wanted to check the watch, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen as solidly as if Esta had trapped him in time. Seshat held him still as she raged within him, pressing at the walls.
I can stop this, Harte begged her, fighting against her with all of the strength he had. Let me go, and I’ll kill Jack here and now. I will end Jack’s life and Thoth’s with him.
Seshat remained silently pacing beneath his skin.
You know what that tower is capable of, Harte pressed. You’ve seen my memories, and you’ve seen my fears. If Jack activates his machine, Thoth will win. He will take everything you are, everything you ever hoped to be, and you will be powerless against his control. Unless you let me go. It’s our only chance. It’s your only chance.
The voice inside of him wailed, but suddenly Harte found that he could move. With his legs under his control once more, he sprinted toward the stage, shoving aside anyone he had to in order to reach Esta before Jack threw the lever. He was nearly to the steps of the stage—
“Tonight, it ends,” Jack shouted, and Harte understood that he would be too late.
Before he could even reach the edge of the arena’s floor, Jack pressed the lever, and the tower above began to crackle to life.
The crowd surged to their feet, stomping and whistling, and Jack’s face was glowing with satisfaction. The lights in the arena hummed and flickered as the machine at the tower’s apex started to glow.
CAUGHT BETWEEN
1920—Chicago
If North could have dragged Everett away from the mess of the convention, he would have. He would’ve risked most anything—drugging Everett into submission, tying him up, carrying him back to his mother… anything. He would have even risked Everett’s hatred if he could have been sure that the boy would be safe. But North had been around a long time. He’d seen power come and go, and the one thing he’d learned through it all was that there
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