Undead and Uneasy

Chapter 37

Power slammed through me, and, I screamed. Well, not so much screamed as roared. I felt energy running through my spine like a waterfall; the overload of good was becoming worse than the beating. I staggered away from Marjorie's remains and nearly fell into Sinclair's coffin. I grabbed him and poured some of the new strength I had into him; it was either get rid of it or blow up.

Even as he stirred; grew younger, grew strong, sat up, it wasn't enough, I was still going to blow.

I stumbled away from Sinclair, kicked Marjorie's things (and probably a bit of old Marjorie, too, poor thing) out of the way, and reached for Antonia through the bars and poured more of it into her.

I was not entirely sure what I was doing and yet wasn't even shocked when Antonia screamed again, a scream that turned into a howl. She dropped to all fours, sprouted dark brown fur, and then an enraged werewolf was howling at the ceiling and tearing at the bars with her teeth.

No fair! I thought. You're not supposed to be allowed to do that. Rule breaker!

“Elizabeth!” Someone was shaking me. “Elizabeth! Whatever you're doing, stop it! It's too much, you're—”

Through blurred vision I saw Antonia-​the-​wolf tear through the bars with her teeth and wondered vaguely what the hell a werewolf's teeth were made of. Titanium? In no time at all she'd torn or pulled a big enough hole through the bars and wormed through, then attacked the other coffin with desperate savagery. The rosaries flew off, and she started to rip at the chains.

Getting some of my mind back, I began to help her. Well, by began I mean I flipped the coffin lid open as though the chains weren't there, stuck my hands inside, and poured everything I had onto the shriveled thing inside.

In a few seconds, Garrett was sitting up and looking around.

“Wow, I feel terrific! Um. What the hell just happened?” he asked, sounding quite un-​Garrett-​like.

Whoever had tried to shake me before—that would be Sinclair, right? Sure, I could see him now, it was Sinclair.

Hey, he looks good! I made him all right. That's nice. Now if I could just do something about this force inside of me that feels like it wants to split my skin. . .

“Elizabeth!” His eyes were wide with awe and fear. “Elizabeth, what are you doing?”

And I was still burning up, still exploding, there was still too much of whatever I had taken from Marjorie in me, on me, all over me, around me.

I had an idea, but I knew I only had a few moments of conscious thought left. So I leaned into Sinclair, making him wince with the touch, and whispered my instructions into his ear.

He nodded. “Yes, my Queen.”

“Hurry,” I finished, and then I collapsed to the ground, wreathed in flames.