28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tan

I reached out with my death magic, praying I didn't find any coming from him. The air left my lungs when I came back empty. That meant he wasn't dead or in danger of dying since my magic fed on that.

"He's alive and okay, just unconscious," I told Garrick silently.

He blew out a relieved breath. "Thank you, little pretty."

Oakley was standing over Roman, talking to the enemy. Their back was to us, so I couldn't see their expression or read their body language. What were they doing? What'd happened to Roman? Why hadn't they attacked Oakley too?

Did… did Oakley let them through? Did they betray us?

Fuck . I didn't know what to think. I'd thought Oakley was on our side, but… but this…

Was this a casual chat with friends, or was Oakley upset?

Had they… had Oakley let them through our wards? Was that how they were so easily broken?

"We have to get to Rome and Oak," Garrick said, and I could hear and feel his panic. Whether or not Oakley was on our side, we still had to keep them safe from these people.

"We will."

My training automatically kicked in—thank you, Ailin and Seb—and I felt like I could see where to go and what to do.

I reached into the ground and pulled the abundance of death energy from it, letting it power my magic. Then I whipped together a few blast spells and sent them toward both groups.

There were a lot more of them than there were of us, but I wasn't about to give up, and neither was Garrick. Maybe my spells couldn't hurt the ten fucking dragons they'd brought with them, but they could definitely hurt the twenty blood witches… as long as I got their shields down.

We started moving toward Roman and Oakley, and since the dragons were too far away to touch my shield, it protected us from the witch attacks. That wouldn't last, but at least it was helping now.

Through my bond with Orangelica, I said, "Protect Garrick. He's vulnerable."

She didn't reply in words, but she sent me an acknowledgment, then leapt off Gar's shoulders and shifted mid-air. She started blowing hellfire out of her mouth at all of the witches surrounding Roman and Oakley—it wouldn't hurt the dragons, but the witches were just as dangerous at the moment. It hit their shields, but the more damage she caused, the more likely I could bust their shields right open.

She'd stay over the top of Garrick and help keep him safe.

"Thank you, baby girl."

She roared in response, perfectly happy to protect my viramore because she loved him too.

I sent another volley of spells, but they still bounced off the witches' shields. I growled under my breath in frustration, but I didn't stop shooting magic at both groups. The group by the door turned and headed toward us, and the other group opened their circle, leaving us a clear view of Roman and Oakley, but nothing had changed.

I quickly threw a shield over the top of Roman, even though the dragons could easily pop it. I had to at least try.

As for Oakley, they were still standing, and I couldn't really tell what they were thinking when they turned to face us, but they did have tear tracks running down their cheeks.

They could've been crying because they didn't like betraying us but did it anyway. Or perhaps they were crying because they were scared for us or upset that Roman was hurt.

I was burning to know if the kid we'd been spending time with was the real Oakley or if they'd been playing us the entire time.

"Sylra," Garrick hissed as a woman stepped out from behind Oakley and placed a hand on their shoulder.

I sneered. I hated this woman for what she did to my Garrick and to Oakley, to my family. She destroyed my dragon all in the name of power, and I'd love nothing more than to watch her fall back to the hell she came from.

I didn't miss how Oakley tensed from their mother's touch, but that didn't mean they hadn't helped her get through our wards.

"Garrick, how lovely to see you again," she called out, then she threw something right at us.

I thought it'd bounce off my shield, but it must've been a dragonscale dagger because my shield burst, exposing us to the world, and the dagger landed on the ground and skidded to a stop close by. Well, damn .

One of the witches didn't waste any time taking advantage. They threw four red orbs at us. I pulled on my magic to counter it.

Garrick moved quicker than I knew he could and jumped in front of me, knocking the spells out of the air with his sword and turning them to ash. But more came, and Garrick couldn't keep up, not with this many enemies attacking all at once.

One of the orbs hit me in the leg, and I cried out as a vine wrapped itself around my calf and knee, already digging in with its lone thorns. Fucking hell, I hated these fucking vine spells.

Quickly, I bent down and grabbed the dragonscale dagger Sylra had thrown. It was small, but it might come in handy since I didn't have any dragonscale weapons of my own. It was also gold.

Holy shit, it was made from Oakley's scales. I bet they'd used it to trick the wards because it was filled with Oak's essence. Shit.

Sylra yelled something I couldn't understand, and suddenly, the whole group yelled and started attacking tenfold. I threw a shield up over us again, but it only lasted a few seconds, so instead, I concentrated on blocking incoming magic. Garrick was hitting spells out of the air like an old pro, and I was grateful for the assist because there were far too many of these guys.

A big purple dragon roared and leapt in the air, landing directly in front of me. It swung its giant head at me, fangs bared, and I threw a giant blast spell right at it and jumped to the side.

Then I reached out with my magic and found every single loose piece of concrete, brick, sticks, leaves, and anything else on the roof. I infused them all with my magic and sent them flying. A tornado of rubble rushed around the roof, hitting everything and everyone there.

They were too small to do any real damage—too bad that moose wasn't close enough for me to use—but they did hurt a bit and were a good distraction while I figured out how the hell to beat this many fucking dragons when one of my dragons was out for the count and the other couldn't shift.

Fuck . We were so screwed.

As the wind kicked up and my debris-tornado continued to be a nuisance, I placed shields over the top of myself, Gar, Orangelica, Oakley, and Roman to protect them, but I had to let them protect themselves too because I had bigger problems.

Bigger, purpler problems.

Mr. Purple People Eater snarled in anger and lunged for me. I had to dive to the side to get out of the way in time, and I landed on my knee, making me hiss from the impact. He came at me again, so I rolled out of the way. And when he chomped down in my direction, I used the wind to pull me up and away, just in time.

Fuck, that purple asshole almost ate me!

When I got back to my feet, I realized the dragon had purposefully separated me from Garrick. Fuuuuuck .

"You okay over there?" I asked him through our link.

"Just peachy, little pretty." Even telepathically, he sounded breathless. Not a good sign.

Orangelica felt distressed too. She was fighting off two dragons, and it terrified me.

Some of the dragons and witches were making their way down the stairs, and that terrified me too. What were they going to do to Garrick's people—to our people?

But I couldn't fix any of that right now.

Purple People Eater—or should I say Purple Witch Eater—came at me again, and I let out burst spells at his face, rapid-fire. Couldn't really hurt him, but it could annoy him, and hopefully blind him for a few seconds.

He roared only three feet from my face, and I cursed.

"Motherfucker, I'm not dying this way."

And I dove under the dragon, raised Sylra's dagger, and sliced across the dragon's belly. It roared in pain, and blood splashed all over me as I tried to get out from under the beast. That dagger was bigger and sharper than I gave it credit for. Damn . Thank you, Sylra, for the excellent knife.

The dragon wobbled on its legs, and I didn't give in, no matter how badly I didn't want to hurt this creature, this person. But there were nine more dragons—eleven, if you counted Sylra… and Oakley—so I didn't have the option of being lenient.

So I stabbed the dagger into the dragon's hip joint and yanked down as hard as I could. The skin ripped open, and I didn't hesitate to run to the front of the dragon and slice at its throat while it wailed in pain.

Guilt ate at me, but as soon as that dragon fell, another took its place, so I didn't really have time to sulk or be upset about it—I would later, but not right now.

I dodged a plume of fire, jumped over a swiped-out arm, and rolled out of the way of its wing as I collected more power for a spell. But when its other leg smacked me to the side, and I fell to the ground in a heap, I panicked and magically latched onto the biggest thing I could—the dead dragon.

With a wince, I used the death magic already inside the giant body to sort of reanimate it. Then I pulled it across the roof, knocked the attacking dragon out of the way, and used the big thing as a gross, dead shield. I threw a secondary shield over myself with my magic, more to use as a warning than actual protection. Guilt made my chest ache, but I didn't have anything else to fight with.

It was little ol' me, against beings so big, they could snap me in two with one hand and witches that used magic I didn't understand.

And this fucking vine hurt .

Since I had a short reprieve, I used the dagger to cut the vine off and carefully pulled the thorns out. They were at least three inches long already, and my leg was bleeding. A lot.

If they hadn't been growing with magic, I would've left the thorns in there, just to keep from bleeding everywhere. But that was a moot point because the damn thorns had been growing, and I sure as hell didn't want them digging even further into my leg.

With shaking fingers, I ripped the bottom of my shirt, wrapped it around my wounds, and tied it as tight as I could. I hissed in pain as I got my feet back under me and stood, but I did my best to ignore it.

Orangelica let out a loud scream of pain, and I jolted as I felt her injury through our bond. Her wing. They'd broken her wing.

I heard Garrick calling out to her, and in my head, he said, "I got her. I'll keep her safe."

"Is she okay?"

"She's injured, but she's going to be okay. Just… just focus on your own fight, baby."

"Thank you. You focus too."

Using the dragon to shield my body, I moved to the edge and peeked around, trying to see where Garrick and Orangelica were and make sure everyone else was okay.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Garrick said through our link. He'd said the words, but he couldn't lie to me. I could feel how untrue that was, and it made me want to cry.

"Where are you? What's wrong?"

"I want you to take Orangelica and run for it. If I can get her to shift back, you can carry her and run to the stairwell."

I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh or cry at that. "I'm not fucking leaving you, you absolute idiot."

He sighed. "I know. But I need you to know that I lo—"

My shield suddenly burst apart, and as I turned to see who'd taken it down, a blow came to the back of my head. I stumbled forward, bumping into the dead dragon as my vision twisted for a moment. Then I turned to see who the hell'd gotten the drop on me.

A blood witch stood there and grinned at me, holding a glowing red orb in his hand, casually throwing it up and catching it again and again. "Don't move a muscle or I'll wrap a vine right around your pretty little head." He leaned closer. "And just so you know, my brother has the same spell up against your precious Garrick's head too. Just in case you're thinking about doing something stupid."

"Gar? Does someone have a spell against your head?"

There was a pause, then a sigh. "Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Gar-Bear." I was the one who was sorry. I was the one who was supposed to protect him. None of this should've happened. My ward shouldn't have failed. My spells should've been strong enough.

This was all my fault.

I swallowed hard and didn't say anything, afraid to speak.

Fuck .

How had I let someone sneak up on me like that? I knew better. I fucking knew better.

The blood witch laughed. "Oh, don't look so upset. My concealing spells are the best in the country, bar none, and are well sought after." He winked at me, and it was the creepiest thing I'd ever seen. "Now, come with me, little death witch. Nice and slow."

He held his red orb up to my head and led me around to the other side of the dead dragon. I grimaced when I saw Garrick in the same situation as me, except my sweet dragon was covered in blood. And a lot of it was his blood. I could tell because when I focused on our bond, I could feel how much pain he was in. Fuck .

Orangelica also had a witch on her with a spell held up to her head. My poor Bonded. She was in so much pain, and she felt guilty for not protecting us even though that wasn't her job.

The witch holding Garrick kicked him until he fell to his knees, and when he grunted from the pain, true, deep anger simmered in my gut.

This was why they'd separated us. I never should've let that happen. I should've stuck next to him like glue.

"Baby, it's not your fault. We were, simply put, outgunned. If you would've tried staying next to me, you would've been flattened by a dragon foot. I'm the one who's sorry. This is my mess, and now you're paying the price."

He was wrong about that. This wasn't only his mess anymore. It was mine too because these people had come after my viramore. They'd come after my person. And they'd hurt my friend, my Bonded, and… and they'd hurt Oakley too.

I wasn't about to let that stand.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't. Not unless you want Garrick, Roman, and that abomination to die," Sylra said as she stepped up on Garrick's other side and nodded toward Orangelica.

Abomination? What the actual fuck, lady? Chimeras were amazing creatures. What an asshole.

I glared at her with all I was worth, and she simply smirked before facing Garrick.

"Good to see you, husband."

And I knew she'd only called him that to piss me off. But guess what? I didn't actually care because I knew exactly who had Garrick's heart, and it sure as hell wasn't her.

"I stopped being your husband twenty-five years ago, Sylra," Gar growled out. "The day you kidnapped my child, you were dead to me."

She laughed, like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. She sounded unhinged. But that wasn't much of a surprise from everything I'd heard about her from Garrick, and the very little Oakley had shared with us.

I glanced at Garrick's kid and frowned. They were standing there, looking frozen to the spot except for the tears running down their cheeks. I wanted to go to them and offer comfort, but that would have to wait.

Garrick needed me now.

"If I tell you to duck, can you?"

"Don't try anything, Tan! The witch behind you will shoot you in the head with that vine spell. Please, sweetheart, please don't try anything."

My nostrils flared as I sucked in a breath. "Then what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know." He sounded devastated, like we'd already been defeated, like there was no hope.

And then I realized why.

This was so close to what'd happened to him twenty-five years ago that he'd already given up. He thinks he's going to lose me—lose everyone.

Oh, Garrick.