Unable to communicate effectively, Julia sat down like a dog would do and whimpered. Clara took that as a sign the message was received loud and clear.
“They think they are above us,” Clara said. “Pawns in their petty games.”
Clara’s eyes glowed blue. With a point of her finger, a bolt of blue energy made the air crackle. The smell of ozone permeated the air, along with burnt flesh and hair.
The sight of Clara flicking her evil switch must have something in Julia’s mind. The werewolf whimpered, and after seconds of watching a goddess turning into charcoal, she looked away entirely.
“Consider this my electric cure,” Clara said.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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