Chapter 26

"Tori, take this."

Numbness washed over my body, deadening my limbs, and it took me a second to look up.

Kai stood beside me, holding his shorter katana with the hilt extended toward me. I grasped the fabric-wrapped handle. He released the blade and hefted his long katana.

Ezra joined me on my other side, my combat belt hooked on an empty sword sheath at his hip. "Xanthe and Xever will be at the back, out of danger."

I nodded. "I think Darius is going for them too. We—"

Crimson magic exploded. Nazhivēr roared, silhouetted against the eerie glow with his wings spread.

The dark form of the mysterious man in black flew backward, thrown by the blast. He landed in a handstand and flipped neatly onto his feet. Sinking into a crouch, he set his feet and launched back toward his opponent, faster than any human. Red magic crawled over his arms, sparking off his shoulders.

Aaron's and Kai's jaws hung open. "Is that—"

"Yep. Leave Nazhivēr to them." I reached for the Carapace's hood. "Stick with me."

Three pairs of eyes locked on mine.

"We'll be with you," Ezra said.

I pulled the hood up and the world went quiet.

The cessation of sound pressed against my ears. With all my senses but vision muted, I faced the battle. My numbed limbs wouldn't stop me, nor the chill spreading through my core as the Carapace's magic sucked at my human body, attempting to drain my magic.

Except I had no magic. I was as human as could be, and the Carapace, instead of being a dangerous liability, was my best weapon.

As long as I wore it, I was impervious to any attack, physical or magical. I would clear the path.

I launched forward, and the three mages ran after me. The overwhelming violence of the battle hit hard as I closed in on it—silent explosions of magic and fire, flashes of light, writhing men, struggling enemies, brutal demons. Shattered concrete and flying debris.

And bodies. Unmoving bodies scattered over the ground.

The silence in my ears softened the effect, and I scanned for the best path. Seven demons still moved. Four demon mages. Dozens of men, and I couldn't tell friend and foe apart.

But there—where the south street met the intersection. Xanthe and Xever stood side by side, surrounded by three cultists, three wolves, and two vampires.

They were our goal.

Speeding up, I leaped across the crevice that divided the intersection in two. The cloak fluttered, clinging to my arms as the ends floated outward. I reached the edge of the melee.

Mythics whipped toward me. Shock, disbelief. Then a sorcerer hurled a spell in my direction.

The green light dissolved into sparkles, which the Carapace devoured. I swiped clumsily with Kai's katana and the man stumbled back. I shot past him—and orange light flared as Aaron dealt with the enemy.

All around me, magic dissolved and sucked into the fae cloak. Men jumped away, no idea what I was or what the cloak was doing. I plowed through, the guys right behind me, drawing ever closer to the cult leaders.

Then the demon mages noticed us.

Three of them peeled away from their opponents. Crimson magic blazed up over their hands, spells taking form. Terror weakened my knees as I flung my arms out. Ezra, Aaron, and Kai ducked behind the Carapace's outstretched fabric.

The demon mages' spells exploded from their hands. Screaming red power blasted toward me—and dissolved. The Carapace absorbed it all with a soft ripple of amethyst fabric.

As the demon mages' lips curled into furious sneers, the middlemost one jolted.

A flicker of movement, of light. For an instant, Darius appeared behind the demon mage, his dagger sliding smoothly into the man's jugular. The assassin pulled his blade free, and the demon mage clutched his throat, magma eyes blazing as the demon within realized his host was dying.

The luminamage vanished again, bending the light around his body.

I launched forward, brandishing my sword as the cloak billowed. The demon mages darted uncertainly away—and Ezra shot past my left side.

A blast of wind to throw a demon mage back. A slash of his sword, a blade of air. Blood sprayed. The demon mage flung out a fist and Ezra caught it with a boom of wind. His other sword plunged into the cultist's gut.

I whirled toward the last demon mage—just as the man erupted into flame. His mouth opened in a scream I couldn't hear. Then Kai pointed with his sword, and a thick bolt of electricity leaped for the man's chest. He arched, then buckled limply.

Aaron's lips moved with soundless words. Go, Tori.

I ran. They sprinted after me, the Carapace absorbing every attack that flew our way. Enemies fell back.

Then we broke free of the chaos and into the open space between the battle and its generals. I pushed the cloak's hood off as the mages spread out on my left. Three cultists, three werewolves, and two vampires to kill before we could reach the Court's leaders. And there was Xanthe's power to worry about.

Her cruel smile spread as she focused on Aaron.

"Darius!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Blind her!"

The GM didn't appear, but Xanthe started. She flung a hand out and grabbed Xever's arm.

Standing safely behind their lieutenants, Xever smirked. "You've shown remarkable restraint, Enéas. Still hoping to plead not guilty to the charges?"

Ezra spun his blades. "Is that what you think?"

Xever's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth—

A vampire lieutenant's chest exploded.

The gunshot rang painfully in my ears as the vampire keeled over. With a shimmer of light, Girard appeared on my left, pistol still aimed at the vampire. Alistair rippled into view, his staff in hand and blood all over his shirt. And between the two, Darius appeared.

He no longer held his silver daggers. Instead, he gripped the long handle of a huge silver war hammer, the heavy end resting on the ground in front of him. But it wasn't just any war hammer—it was the one that normally hung above my bar.

When the hell had he gotten hold of that? Had Girard and Alistair brought it? I'd thought they were down for the count!

"Xanthe." Darius's voice cut like blades of ice. "Xever. When you decided to destroy my guild, you should've considered who you were challenging."

Even blinded, Xanthe curled her upper lip. "Is that so? You—"

Darius didn't wait for her to finish. He swung the hammer up and slammed it into the ground.

Grayish sparks burst from the point of impact and a wave of concussive force rocketed outward, hurling the enemy group off their feet.

Ezra, Aaron, and Kai charged for the fallen cultists. Darius heaved the war hammer to Alistair, who caught it one-handed, the thick muscles in his bare arms bunching. He dropped his staff, took a two-handed grip on the hammer's handle, and launched forward with Girard on his heels.

Darius drew his two backup daggers and vanished from sight.

I flipped the Carapace's hood up, adjusted my grip on my borrowed katana, and ran straight into the melee. Fire, wind, lightning, shaking earth, spewing lava. The silver hammer swung down and crushed a werewolf beneath it.

As their lieutenants fought and died, Xever backed away, Xanthe clinging to his arm.

Launching in front of a spell a cultist had fired at Kai, I rushed through the battling mythics and monsters. No one could touch me—or stop me—and I burst out the other side. Flipping the cloak open to free my arm, I pointed my katana at the two cult leaders.

Xever smiled coldly, and crimson light flashed on his chest. The infernus hanging around his neck glowed—and red power streaked from across the battlefield and struck the pendant. It filled the silver disc, then burst out again.

Nazhivēr took form in front of me.

On the plus side, he wasn't looking too great—bleeding gashes raked his limbs and one of his wings had a long tear in the membrane. On the downside, I was now facing a demon all by myself.

Clutching my sword, I lunged at the demon.

He slid aside with inhuman speed and swung at my head. His fist slowed as though he were trying to punch me through ever-thickening mud and came to a halt without ever touching me.

I slashed the sword down his immobile arm.

As thick demon blood splattered from the new wound, the demon's other hand snapped closed around my wrist—the one sticking out from the Carapace's folds and very much not invincible.

Nazhivēr wrenched me off my feet. The cloak flapped open, exposing me to attack.

Gasping, I grabbed the fluttering edge and threw it over the demon's head. Crimson sparkles whooshed out of Nazhivēr and sucked into the Carapace. His glowing eyes widened.

He flung me away.

The cloak tore free from my shoulders as I pitched backward, my head on a collision course with the pavement and limbs flailing. I plunged down—and landed on a thick cushion of nothingness.

The dense pillow of air beneath me deflated, and I thudded to the ground. Rolling over, I shot to my feet.

Ezra stood beside me, blades angled at the cult leaders and Nazhivēr.

The Carapace had caught on the demon's horns, and he ripped the artifact off, throwing it aside. I clutched my sword in both hands, knowing I couldn't reach the cloak without Nazhivēr killing me.

The demon's glowing stare raked Ezra. "Is Eterran too cowardly to…" His eyes narrowed to slits, and his expression froze. "Where is Eterran?"

"Good question," Ezra growled.

"I cannot sense him."

Ezra smiled.

Nazhivēr hissed furiously. "What did you do? How did you break the contract?"

"What?" Xever demanded from behind his demon. "A demon mage contract can never—"

With a flash of crimson, a dark shape leaped over the battling mythics behind us and landed with a thump ahead of Ezra. The newcomer straightened, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Dressed in black, hood drawn up, and a long, thin tail snapping behind him.

Robin clung to his back, her hood off and hair mussed into a wild tangle.

I saw the exact moment Xever realized the black-clad figure wasn't a man but a demon—Zylas, inexplicably dressed like the baddest of badass combat mythics.

"Robin and Zylas," he observed as he pushed up his sleeves, revealing rows of silver bands around his arms. "How kind of you to join us. Xanthe?"

His partner smiled, her confidence unruffled despite the fact that she was still blinded. "Go play with your toys, then, Xever, and I'll deal with the important matters, as I always do."

Smirking, he retreated, moving backward down the street to escape the impending violence. Nazhivēr moved in front of his master, wings spreading protectively.

A low, husky laugh rumbled from Zylas. Still carrying Robin on his back, he vaulted across the gap between him and his enemies, landing in a crouch a foot from Nazhivēr's knees.

"Ori eruptum impello!" Robin shouted.

A silver dome expanded around her, throwing the demon backward.

Leaving her and Zylas to it, I faced Xanthe. How did she think she could deal with us in that state?

She smiled and hooked a finger under the collar of her jacket. With a tug, she lifted out a jangling cluster of silver pendants. Three flat discs with jagged markings. Was each medallion an infernus?

She couldn't control multiple demons at once, could she?

Crimson flared across all three. Power leaped outward and hit the ground in three spots. It flowed upward, taller than Zylas—than Aaron—than Nazhivēr. At seven feet, the three demons solidified.

Glowing crimson eyes. Long, curved horns rising above hairless heads. Spines jutting from their elbows. Massive wings on thick shoulders. Long, powerful tails with bone-crushing plates on the end.

It was the near-indestructible unbound demon from Halloween—times three.

"First House demons?" Ezra whispered hoarsely. "Three of them? How?"

"In case you didn't know," Xanthe purred, "demons can see even in complete darkness. The luminamage can't blind them."

I tensed even more.

Xanthe waved a hand in our general direction. "Kill them all."

The three demons, in almost perfect unison, flexed their fingers. Crimson lit over their claws and veined up their thick arms. Jagged spell circles flared over the demons' wrists—a different spell for each of them. They lifted their arms, aiming the coming attacks at us.

I dove for the ground. Landing in a roll I'd practiced a hundred times on the mats in Aaron's basement, I snatched up the Carapace. I was still slinging it over my shoulders as I leaped in front of the demons' triple attack.

But the cloak wasn't properly in place around me.

Or maybe I'd pushed the fae artifact too far.

Or maybe the demons' combined magic was just too much.

"Tori!"

The next thing to register in my awareness was significant pain.

Arms were clutching me. I groaned. Why did everything hurt so goddamn much? And why were my eyes closed?

I wrenched them open. I hung in Ezra's grasp, Aaron flanking us on one side and Kai on the other. The three demons were straight ahead, and since everyone was basically in the same positions, I guessed I'd blacked out for only a few seconds.

The Carapace, though. It lay on the ground, a tangle of purple fabric that neither sparkled nor shimmered nor did anything remotely fantastical.

Ezra pushed me behind him, and I wavered unsteadily, unsure how or where I was injured. Everything hurt. How much of that blast had the Carapace absorbed and how much of the hit had I taken?

"Stay back, Tori," he ordered.

I realized he was about to attack. In the instant before he leaped forward, I snatched my combat belt off his sword sheath. Aaron swept after him, the flames on his sword doused but the blade dripping blood. On his heels, Kai darted toward the demons, electricity crackling over his limbs.

Movement flashed past my other side. Alistair, still wielding the war hammer. Girard, his pistols exchanged for handfuls of artifacts. And Darius, who wasn't bothering to hide himself when the demons could see him anyway.

Farther up the street, crimson power burst and crackled—Zylas and Nazhivēr battling. Zylas couldn't help us. He had his own deadly opponent.

How could the six mythics defeat three of the most powerful demons that existed?

A battle cry rang out behind me. I flung a glance over my shoulder—and my heart leaped.

Tabitha, Andrew, Laetitia, Lyndon, Ramsey, Gwen, and Drew cut through the debris, weapons at the ready. Bleeding, battered, but ready to join the final fight. They streamed past me and leaped into the chaos, Tabitha and Andrew shouting commands.

For any of them to survive this, we couldn't count on killing the demons. We had to stop the contractor—but it would take the combined efforts of everyone else just to keep the demons at bay.

Sucking in a deep breath, I scanned the raging battle—Ezra blasting a demon with air blades, Aaron lunging for its flank, Kai peppering it with throwing knives and sending bolts of electricity leaping for its body, each flash accompanied by a thunder-like crack.

Alistair slammed the war hammer into the ground and zigzagging fissures split the earth in every direction. Bubbling lava spewed from the cracks as, a few paces away, Tabitha cast a wave of ice across the legs of the middle demon, freezing its feet to the ground.

I picked my route—and ran into the howling violence.

Ducking Lyndon's mace as he swung it at Tabitha's frozen demon. Springing over a lava-filled crevice. Diving beneath a demon's sweeping wing as it vaulted skyward, crimson power rippling up its arm.

A sphere of red power exploded nearby, hurling me off my feet. I crashed to the ground, rolled, and sprang up again. With a final stumbling leap, I broke through on the other side.

Xanthe stood just ahead, her manic grin wide and gaze darting across the combatants. She could see again, and she was deciding who to take over with her mentalist powers.

Her attention landed on me, and I sprinted toward her, counting the seconds in my head. I had to reach her before she could get her psychic hooks in my brain. The distance between us shrank. Only a few more steps—

I slowed to a stop, four feet between us. I pulled my paintball gun from its holster, then reached for my belt buckle with my other hand. My fingers fumbled over the leather, and the belt dropped to the ground.

Turning the gun, I extended the handle toward her.

She took the weapon and, with a merciless smile, lifted the barrel to point at my face.

Crimson magic detonated nearby. A wave of pebbles and grit blasted over us, and Xanthe gasped, ducking her head and shielding her face. The instant her eyes left me, awareness exploded in my head. My lungs heaved, muscles spasming with adrenaline.

Jerking upright, Xanthe swung the gun loaded with a final shot of hellfire potion toward me. I swept my leg up in a roundhouse kick, and my boot hit the metal gun with a jarring thwack. It flew out of her hand, bounced off the pavement, and skittered away. Fire surged over it as the paintball broke from the impact.

As my foot came down, my fist veered toward her face. My knuckles hit her cheekbone and her head snapped back.

But Xanthe was a Keys of Solomon member, not an amateur combat apprentice.

She whacked my wrist aside, and her other fist drove into my sternum. As I stumbled, agony burning through my chest, her hand dipped down to her thigh where a long dagger was sheathed. She pulled the weapon.

I grabbed the violet crystal around my neck. "Ori vis siderea!"

A crackling, multi-hued sphere appeared in my hand and I hurled it at her as she lunged for me. It burst against her wrist, knocking her arm back. The weapon dropped from her numb, magic-stained hand.

"Ori vis siderea!"

A second orb manifested in my palm, and I chucked it at her face. It hit her in the forehead.

I yanked a fall spell from around my neck. "Ori decidas!"

As I leaped for her, crystal extended in my reaching arm, she threw herself back and kicked out. Her boot caught my hip, and my dive turned into an awkward fall. I crashed down on her legs.

She seized my wrist and slammed it on the pavement. The activated artifact flew out of my hand.

Desperate to keep her too busy to mind-control me, I threw myself into her.

We rolled across the ground. The hard parts of her body—fists, elbows, knees—were finding all the soft spots in mine, but I kept grabbing her, trying to pin her down. Her fist connected with my jaw and my vision went white. The world spun, and my chin hit the pavement, her knee driving into my back. She grabbed my right arm and wrenched it behind me.

I screamed as agony tore through my shoulder. Twisting away from her, I pushed up with one hand, shaking uncontrollably.

Her arm looped around my neck from behind and clamped tight.

As she pulled me into her, she caught my good wrist and bent my arm behind my back, locking me in place on my knees. My other arm hung limply, a nuclear inferno of agony burning through my shoulder.

"Look," she hissed in my ear.

Magic flashed and danced, the air rippling with the heat rising from Alistair's snaking lines of lava. The silver war hammer, splattered with blood, lay abandoned on the ground. Girard scrabbled at his belt for an artifact as he limped sideways, almost stepping in a molten fissure. Tabitha darted back and forth in front of a demon, flicking ice shards in its face.

Aaron had one arm around Kai's chest, the electramage sagging in his hold. He held a fistful of Drew's shirt in the other hand and was dragging the unconscious telekinetic away. Ezra, one of his swords missing the last few inches of the blade, faced a demon alone.

"They're all going to die," Xanthe crooned. "Just like everyone in Enright died. Xever was waiting in the underground temple. When the time was right, he had Nazhivēr slaughter them all like the brainless cattle they were."

I fought for air, my mouth gaping.

"These are First House demons. The most powerful of them all—except for a female demon, of course."

My lungs screamed for air. My head spun, sparks flashing behind my eyes.

"Stop fooling around," she called, "and finish them off!"

The three demons glanced at her, then faced their outmatched human foes once more.

Xanthe's constricting arm loosened enough for me to gasp in a tiny breath. "Don't die yet," she purred in my ear. "Watch your beloved die first."

I sucked in another wisp of air—then threw my head back, smashing my skull into her nose.

She gasped and jerked away. Wrenching my wrist free, I grabbed the purple crystal resting against my chest—and with my injured arm, I reached for her neck. Agony burst through my shoulder, blurring my vision, but I didn't stop.

"Ori vis siderea!" I gasped.

As my weak fingers scraped across her neck and caught on her infernus chains, I smashed the arcana orb into her sternum.

It exploded, throwing her backward—and I tore the demonic pendants over her head.

Her furious scream rang out as I whirled around. Her weight crashed into me from behind, and I slammed down. As she lunged for my wrist, I whipped my arm back—

And hurled the infernus pendants.

They arced through the air, crimson light creating a violent backdrop to their graceful flight, then plunged into a wide crack in the pavement where glowing lava bubbled.

The silver discs plopped into the lava, floating on top of the dense fluid. The metal edges charred, then the medallions melted into silver puddles.