88. Rhyland

Rhyland

88

M y fingers drum on the steering wheel, my eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. Three days of non-stop strategizing and planning, and here we are, heading straight into the lion's den—Thornwood Castle. What a fitting name for a place crawling with witches.

I glance up at the night sky, the full moon looming ominously. It's like the universe is setting the stage for some seriously spooky shit. Could the atmosphere be any more on the nose? All we're missing is some fog and a few ominous raven caws.

I sigh, shaking my head. But atmosphere aside, we've got a solid plan. We discovered their weakness: once those witches link up during their ritual, they're all connected. Kill one, and the whole lot of them goes down like a supernatural domino effect.

Dani and Erik are in the back seat of Lucian's SUV, with Lucian riding shotgun beside me. Emily and Sable follow close behind in her car.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white as we fly southbound toward our destination. The tension in the car is palpable, an undercurrent of anxiety and determination. We're heading into the unknown and every second counts.

The only wild card is the numbers. We still don't know how many will attend this shindig.

I tighten my grip on the wheel, my jaw clenched with determination. But it doesn't matter. However many there are, we'll take them down. We've come too far to back out now.

As we make our way through the dark, winding streets, I can't help but do a double-take at Lucian's getup. Seated next to me, he's decked out in a medieval ensemble, complete with a billowing cloak, a doublet that looks like it's been through the wars, and a pair of tights that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Lucian rubs his hands together like a mad scientist about to unleash his latest abomination, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. "Oh, this is gonna be fan-fucking-tastic! Sure, it's just a bunch of hocus pocus fuckery, but any chance to rain on these witches' parade is like Christmas come early for me."

I shoot him a sharp look, my patience wearing thin. "For fuck's sake, Lucian, this isn't a game. We're about to walk into a fucking snake pit, and you're treating it like a joke."

He holds his hands up, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Whoa there, big guy. Dial back the alpha male rage, will ya? I know this is serious business, but lighten up a little. We're about to fuck up some witches and save the world. I want to have some fun!"

I grit my teeth, my jaw clenching so hard I'm surprised my molars don't crack. "Lucian, I swear to god, if you don't start taking this seriously, I will personally shove a stake so far up your ass you'll be coughing up splinters for a week."

He clutches his chest, staggering back dramatically. "Oh, be still my beating heart! I love it when you talk dirty to me, Rhy. But seriously, I get it. This is life-or-death shit. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Besides, I've tangled with scarier bitches than these discount Charmed rejects. I ain't afraid of no ghost... or witch, or whatever."

I take a deep breath to calm myself. As much as I hate to admit it, the bastard has a point. We can't afford to let our emotions get the best of us, not when the stakes are this high.

"Fine," I growl. "But if you fuck this up, if you put any of us in danger because you couldn't keep your damn mouth shut, I will personally rip your fucking head off and use it as a footstool. Are we clear?"

Lucian mimes, zipping his lips, a mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. "Crystal, boss man. I'll be on my best behavior, scout's honor."

I snort, shaking my head in disbelief. "You were never a fucking scout, you asshole. But I'll hold you to that."

"And what is this shit you are wearing? You're trying to blend in, not headline at the Renaissance Fair. You and your goddamn peacocking," I grumble, my eyes narrowing in a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

Lucian strikes a pose, one hand on his hip and the other clutching at his cloak like he's about to take flight. "Excuse you, but I'll have you know this is authentic 15th-century garb. If I'm going to sacrifice myself for this coven, I need to look the part. And let's be real, they wouldn't expect anything less."

Erik chimes in from the backseat, raising an eyebrow. "If we get caught because of your fashion choices, I'm leaving you behind."

Lucian gasps, clutching at his chest in mock horror. "Et tu, Erik? I thought we were brothers, man. Brothers don't let brothers get left behind enemy lines, especially not when they're rocking a look like this."

"Boys, boys." Dani's voice cuts through the tension, equal parts amused and exasperated. "Do I need to put you two in time-out?"

I glance at her in the rearview mirror to see her sitting there, arms folded, golden eyes on me, eyebrow arched, looking like a sexy schoolteacher about to lay down the law.

"Little Huntress, this is par for the course with these two. It's like watching a never-ending pissing contest, only with more dick jokes," Erik deadpans, his face as expressionless as ever.

Lucian clutches his pearls, his eyes wide with mock indignation. "Excuse me? I'll have you know my dick jokes are top-notch, fuck you very much! And I don't always fight with Rhyland!" He pauses, considering. "Only, like, 99.9% of the time. But who's counting?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering how the hell we're supposed to save the world when I can't even get through a conversation without wanting to throttle someone. "Lucian, I swear to god, if you don't shut your goddamn mouth, I'll..."

Dani squeezes in between the front seats, her hands held up in a placating gesture. "Whoa there, cowboys. Let's save the measuring contest for after we've dealt with the apocalypse, mmkay?"

I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my frustration. "Fine. But I still think we're walking into a fucking shitshow. And if anything happens to you, Dani..."

She fixes me with a look that could make a lesser man piss himself. "I appreciate the concern, babe, but I'm a big girl. We've faced worse than a bunch of witches with a hard-on for world domination."

Lucian nods sagely, stroking his chin like a discount Gandalf. "Truth, sister. Our little ass-kicker here could probably take on all these bitches and Azrael with one hand tied behind her back. And with the dream team assembled? Pfft, it'll be like taking candy from a baby. An evil, all-powerful baby, but still."

I look around at my dysfunctional little family, feeling a grudging sense of pride and affection beneath the layers of snark and posturing. "Alright—let's keep our heads in this and not get killed."

Lucian rubs his hands together gleefully, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. "Fuck yeah, that's the spirit! Time to go all Leeroy Jenkins on their magical asses. LEEEEROOOOYYY JENKIIIINS!"

"Baby, remind me again why we keep him around?" I grumble, even as a reluctant smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Dani laughs, slipping her hand into mine. "Because deep down, he's family beneath all the bad jokes and inappropriate comments. And family sticks together, no matter what."

W e ditch the ride a good stretch from the castle, Lucian's SUV blending into the dense forest surrounding us. Lucian, ever the drama queen, insisted on hopping in with Emily and Sable, claiming he needed to make a "grand entrance." I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

Emily and Sable play along, driving Lucian up the long, winding driveway to the castle gates. They know just as well as I do that they're in for front-row seats to the impending clusterfuck.

I glance over at Dani and Erik, sharing a silent understanding. This is it. Time to face whatever the hell awaits us inside that castle.

We quietly move through the forest, waiting for Emily to signal Dani.

I pull Dani close, my arms wrapping around her like a shield, and tilt her chin up so those honey-gold eyes are locked on mine. "Listen up, Angel. When we step into those tunnels, you stick to me like glue, got it? I don't want these witches getting even a hint of your scent. They could fuck you up seven shades of sideways with a few hocus pocus words, and I'll be damned if I let that happen."

Dani bobs her head. "Guessing you've had a few rounds with the abracadabra crowd?"

"Both of us have," Erik says before I can respond. "They're ancient, their powers formidable. But evading them shouldn't pose a significant challenge if we deal with the diluted descendants Sable and Emily mentioned."

A memory flashes through my mind of the story of how Erik and I first crossed paths centuries ago, locked in a brutal battle against a coven of witches. We're no strangers to these spell-slinging hags and the wicked shit they can pull off.

"You got the plan locked down?" I press, praying to whatever gods are listening that this insanity works. If Sable's intel is solid, Lucian's going to be under some voodoo mindfuck, so it's on us to pull this off without a single hiccup.

"Yup." Dani exhales a heavy sigh, tension lining the air. "Let's just cross our fingers and pray to whatever's listening that this Hail Mary plays out."

I fix Dani with a stern look. "Under no circumstances are you to get involved, you hear me? Not unless it's absolutely necessary, and there's no other choice. I mean it, Dani. These witches are no joke, and I'll be damned if I let you get caught in the crossfire of their twisted magic. Promise me you'll stay out of it unless there's no other way."

"I promise."