Rebel Reborn (The Witch's Rebels Book 6)

by Sarah Piper

  Away from anyone who might protect them.

  “Ronan!” I shouted, but I didn’t wait to see if he’d heard me. I was already racing toward the vampires, unwilling to consider any outcome but their immediate destruction.

  They had Verona and my sister, Addie. There was no way they were going to survive this.

  Charging in at vampire speed, I slammed into the first one from behind, bashing the front of his skull against the brick exterior. He spun around, grappling for me even as blood streamed into his eyes, but I was faster, my staff already igniting.

  Without a word, I touched it to his chest, lighting him up.

  Movement just behind me, and I slid the staff backward, catching another vamp hard in the groin. He dropped to his knees, and I spun around, swinging. The staff cut through his neck, melting away muscle and bone, thoroughly decapitating him.

  Four left, and two of them were taunting Verona and Addie, but the witches were holding their own, defending themselves with a combination of Verona’s potions and the hawthorn stakes Addie had brought. I saw her slam one into an attacker’s chest just as the other two grabbed me.

  My staff clattered to the ground.

  I twisted out of their grasp, but these two were relentless, coming at me again and again, both of them stronger than me, nearly matched on speed. One of them finally got his hands around my upper arms, and then the other grabbed a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head backward.

  Behind them, I caught a glimpse of Ronan charging down the alley, fire in his eyes, fire in his steps. But just before he reached me, he stopped and smiled, and a Darkwinter Knight stepped out of the shadows, shoving his blade right through Ronan’s heart.

  It was Emilio’s death at the warehouse all over again, and I screamed in horror as Ronan went down. He dropped to his knees, his blood spilling on the street before him, his eyes going vacant.

  He caught my gaze for the briefest moment, then fell forward.

  Dead.

  It had happened in an instant.

  Fear and grief overwhelmed me, twin serpents that slithered around my chest and threatened to choke the life out of me.

  But… no. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. I blinked rapidly, feeling the logical part of my mind trying to claw its way through a sticky haze. Ronan wouldn’t have been caught unaware like that, wouldn’t have stopped to smile, leaving himself exposed. He’d fought too many battles, lived too many lifetimes to make such a rookie mistake, especially after he’d seen Orendiel take out Emilio with the same dirty trick.

  My instincts kicked in fully, and every last one of Darius’s lessons on shielding came flooding back.

  These bloodsuckers are fucking influencing me.

  I blinked away the image of Ronan lying face down in a pool of his own blood, and I ground out a string of curses, forcing the rogue vamp out of my head. I shook with the effort—he’d already embedded his poison quite deeply by the time I’d realized what was happening—but eventually, my thoughts became my own once again.

  Ronan’s lifeless body, no more than a figment of my vamp-infiltrated imagination, vanished.

  Rage-induced magic surged into my limbs, and I wrenched myself from their vicious grip, slipping out from between them. I had just enough time to grab the fae sword I’d strapped to my back before they were coming at me again, but this time, neither would lay a hand on me.

  I blurred out of their reach, then doubled back, swinging at the first one with all I had.

  His head dropped to the ground with a wet thud.

  I felt the invasive touch of the other vamp’s influence again, and I forced my eyes to go glassy, a fake whimper escaping my lips. Standing perfectly still, I let him approach. Let him get cocky. Let him scent my fear.

  And then I smiled, shoving my sword through his throat.

  He choked and gasped, dropping to his knees. I yanked the sword back out and swung again, serving him the same fate as his buddy.

  The other two vamps were still engaged with Verona and Addie, and now I crept behind them, taking down one in the same grizzly manner while Addie and Verona staked the other once again, then lit his bloodsucking ass on fire.

  “Everyone okay?” I asked.

  Verona and Addie were panting from the effort, blood and sweat and grime coating their faces, but they smiled now, nodding briefly and squeezing my hands before they took off in the direction of the main fight still unfolding in the streets.

  I had just finished re-securing my blade on my back and grabbing my staff when new movement at the end of the alley caught my eye. Now, Ronan did appear there, he and Asher fighting off a pair of Darkwinter Knights. Sparkle was in the mix, too, her muzzle dripping with blood as she tore chunks of flesh from one of the fae’s leg.

  I tightened my grip on the staff and darted toward them, eager to help dispatch the two fae. But there was another figure behind them now, emerging from the swirling snow.

  The sight of his white beard stopped me cold.

  Even at a distance, I could see the eager glint in his eye. Casually, he raised his arm and took aim, and the moment played out before me like a slow-motion horror movie I was powerless to stop.

  Phillip pulled the trigger.

  This time, when I saw Ronan go down, I knew it was real.

  Just as I knew Phillip’s gun wasn’t just a regular gun with regular bullets.

  “No!” I screamed, but it was too late. Ronan was on his knees, leaving Asher to grapple with the Darkwinter Knights.

  Phillip had already vanished.

  I charged toward Asher, my staff raised and hungry for death. I cracked one of the soldier’s skulls wide open just as Ash had gotten a hold of the other guy’s head, giving it a sharp twist.

  Both soldiers dropped.

  Asher and I exchanged a quick horrified glance, then got to our knees, both of us reaching for Ronan.

  “Devil’s trap nano,” he managed. “In the bullets… Smart.”

  The poison was already working its way through his bloodstream, sapping his strength, wringing the life from him before our eyes.

  “Fucking hell!” Asher shouted.

  “Listen to me,” I said to Ash, shoving my fear into a tiny little box and burying it deep inside. Ronan didn’t have much time; there was no room for anything but action. “Your blood… It’s in your blood. You can fix this. You’re immune to the devil’s traps.”

  Asher immediately got my meaning, and without wasting another heartbeat, he scooped Ronan into his arms and got to his feet.

  “Get him somewhere safe and find one of the witches with healing magic,” I said. “They’ll figure out a way to make an infusion from your blood.”

  Asher nodded, and I took Ronan’s face between my hands, staring deep into his eyes. They were shifting back and forth from hazel to black, his body convulsing.

  “I love you,” I said. “And if you don’t come back to me, I swear to Sebastian himself I’m going straight back to Hell to hunt your ass down. So don’t you pull any shit, Vacarro.”

  Asher lowered his head, capturing my attention. I saw the promise in the depths of his ocean-blue eyes even before he said the words. “I got this, Gray. Go find that filthy hunter and fucking butcher him.”

  I pressed my mouth to his and stole a kiss. “You can count on it.”

  Thirty

  EMILIO

  The dark fae were absolutely everywhere, skittering across the streets like cockroaches, clashing with our witches and shifters as we all fought to reclaim the city.

  Some of Elena’s men and the witches had already been injured, but Liam had set up triage in an abandoned restaurant, and he and the witches with healing magic were doing their best to keep our people safe.

  Twenty minutes in, and everyone was already bloody and exhausted, but I knew no one would give up. This was too important, too real. I was certain Gray’s earlier words weighed heavy on all of our hearts.

  Blackmoon Bay is ground zero for their entire operation, a
nd it’s no longer simply the home we’re trying to take back. It’s the spark that will eventually set the whole world on fire…

  This is not just about our own lives, but the lives of everyone we’ve ever loved. If we fail, we will all die. Witches, shifters, vampires, demons, fae, and humankind…

  And so we fought, holding true to the bond that had brought us all together, fighting for our lives and the lives of anyone and anything that ever mattered. Witches lit up the streets, vampires blurring in and out of sight, shifters and hounds tearing flesh and breaking bone.

  And still, more came. More fae. More hybrids. More rogues.

  But then, a light in the brutal darkness, more witches arrived.

  Three dozen at least, charging up the street in formation, their steps quick and determined, their magic at the ready.

  They needed no introduction. These were the witches of Blackmoon Bay, and they were ready to take back their freedom.

  Side-by-side, they fought with our witches, all of them united in this purpose, in this singular mission. With their help, our side quickly regained our advantage, and slowly but surely, the enemy’s numbers began to thin.

  In the midst of the battle, my sister and I were a team in the truest sense of the word, never leaving each other’s sides as we fought our way through hunters and hybrids alike, dodging the fae and their deadly silver weapons at every turn.

  But there was one Darkwinter Knight we couldn’t—wouldn’t—avoid.

  Elena and I had a score to settle, and the moment we caught sight of him, we were on the move.

  “There!” she said now, nodding her head toward an alley at the end of the street. “He’s down there. Three other fae are with him.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  Elena nodded. “I’ll never forget Orendiel’s face.”

  Checking to make sure the others were holding their own, we broke away from the main battle and headed in the direction she’d last seen the general, keeping our eyes peeled for any would-be ambushes.

  By the time we reached the entrance to the alley, the sounds of clashing blades and the cries of the fallen had softened to a din behind us, and we leaned our backs against the exterior bricks, taking a quick moment to regroup. I knew this section of town; this was the First American Bank, and the alley cut through to Hodge Street on the other side.

  The fae could be anywhere. Still, we had to try.

  My sister had gone quiet, slipping into the darkness of her own mind. I didn’t like that one bit.

  “Talk to me, Lainey,” I whispered, nudging her elbow. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Just that I’m… I’m glad it’s you,” she said. “If I have to die tonight, I want it to be fighting side-by-side with my brother.”

  “You always were a drama queen.” I grinned at her and rolled my eyes, needing the levity as much as I knew she did. “No Alvarezes are dying tonight. Not on my watch.”

  “From your lips to all the saints in the sky.”

  “You ready?”

  Elena blew out a breath, then nodded, and together we stepped into the alley, ready to end it, one way or another.

  The strip was empty, but a commotion at the other end of Hodge caught our attention. More fighting, fae blades clashing, magic lighting up the wintry mist.

  “It’s Jael!” I said, quickening my pace. He was fighting alongside two women—one I recognized as his sister, Kallayna. The other looked just like them, but slightly older. Not so much by physical age, the way a human might, but by stature. By wisdom.

  She was, I realized in an instant, their mother. Queen Sheyah.

  Whether they’d asked for her help or she’d simply arrived, I didn’t care. What mattered now was that she knew how to swing a sword, and she and her children made a formidable force against the tangle of fae enemies gathered before them.

  Not waiting for an invite, Elena and I shifted into wolf form, leaping into the battle, taking down two Darkwinter Knights before anyone had even realized what’d happened.

  The Queen swung a blade like a seasoned warrior, icing two soldiers in one shot, then pivoting to catch another in the chest. Her blade melted through their armor, eating down to the bone like acid.

  I’d never seen anyone fight so ferociously. So calmly. I wondered how many battles she’d fought.

  Together with the fae on our side, Elena and I continued to tear through the enemy, dodging their weapons, spilling their blood.

  And then, backing away from the melee, a defector. A traitor to his own blood. A fucking coward wearing the uniform of a general, turning tail and trying to make his escape.

  “Go,” Sheyah ordered, taking down another soldier, and Elena and I were off at a good clip.

  I reached him first, launching myself onto his back and slamming him to the concrete. He struggled to reach his weapon, and just as his fist tightened around the pommel, I sank my wolf fangs into his forearm, his scream of agony washing over me like a symphony.

  Elena bit his shoulder, but despite his cowardice, Orendiel was not easy prey. He fought hard and scrappy, beating us back with his boot, with a rock he’d picked up, with anything he could.

  He managed to get to his feet, once again reaching for the deadly blade at his side.

  But Elena was having none of it. She shifted back into her human form, the sudden appearance of her nude, powerful body distracting Orendiel just long enough for us to get the upper hand.

  Elena grinned at him. As if I could read my sister’s mind, I locked my jaws around his ankle, biting until I heard the bone snap. Just before he dropped in agony, she swiped his sword.

  Orendiel hit the ground, blood pouring from his wounds.

  I pinned his legs with my massive form, and without hesitation, Elena shoved the fae blade into his throat.

  “That’s for my brother, asshole.”

  Certain he was no longer a threat, I shifted back into my human form, and together my sister and I loomed over the body as his skin melted away, the magic of the sword eating straight through. He writhed in agony, and I watched him burn, knowing full well the pain of that particular wound.

  I couldn’t say I was sorry.

  After several long moments, Orendiel finally stilled, his eyes dimming, the white mist of his breath disappearing into the night.

  I felt nothing but relief.

  We made our way back toward Queen Sheyah, Jael, and Kallayna, who were fending off the last of the soldiers. Several lay dead at our feet, and Elena and I—still nude from the shift—stripped off some of their clothing, quickly covering ourselves.

  We rejoined the fight just in time to watch Kallayna behead the last fae standing.

  In the momentary calm that followed, the five of us stood silent, almost reverent, taking in the scene. Fae corpses littered Hodge Street, blood pooling and running in rivulets down the pavement.

  “Thank you, your Highness,” I finally managed, breaking the silence and offering a slight bow of gratitude. “I don’t know how you came to join us here, but I’m beyond grateful.”

  “The Council has rotted from the inside,” she said, her voice laced with a sorrow that surprised me. I did not take her for an emotional woman, but she sounded truly regretful. “It was not supposed to be this way. I am here to right that wrong.”

  I bowed again, then introduced my sister to the Queen and Kallayna.

  “I’m glad to see you safe,” I said to Kallayna.

  “Me too,” she replied, then squeezed her brother’s hand. Jael’s eyes were misty with unshed tears.

  “This war is just beginning,” Queen Sheyah said now. “Dark fae are crawling through your cities like rats.”

  “And we’ve just killed the biggest rat of them all,” I said.

  The Queen nodded. “Orendiel should not have risen to such heights unnoticed. Like the Council’s darkness, I simply refused to see it. I assure you, that will not happen again.”

  I nodded, knowing she meant every word.

  Gathe
ring her children at her side, the Queen led them back toward the main battle, leaving me a moment alone with my sister.

  “The fae gear looks kind of badass on you,” I said.

  “I know, right?” Elena started to laugh, but her smile quickly fell, her face crumpling into a look of abject horror as the events of the last few moments finally caught up with her.

  She glanced down at her bloody hands and gasped, and I gathered her into my arms, rubbing her back, whispering promises into her hair like I’d done so many times before.

  But this time, when I told her the worst was over, when I told her we’d survive this, when I told her I knew we’d be okay, I wasn’t feeding her platitudes or trying to find the right words to make up for past mistakes.

  I was laying the foundation for our future. For our family.

  And this time, when her tears finally dried and she’d come back to herself, she looked up into my eyes and smiled, saying the words that for two decades, I hadn’t even realized I’d needed to hear.

  “I love you, Meelo. Just so you know.”

  Thirty-One

  GRAY

  The instant I was back in the crush of the battle, I found Dirty Beard, shouting orders at his hunters to attack the triage area Liam had set up.

  Grabbing Darius along the way, I sped toward the group, both of us barreling into them at top speed, knocking them down like bowling pins. I pinned one to the ground, baring my fangs and tearing out his throat.

  The touch of his foul blood on my lips sparked an ancient instinct, and this time, rather than repressing it, I welcomed the bloodlust, letting it fuel me. I destroyed two more filthy hunters in the same manner, looking up just in time to see Darius tearing into another.

  In minutes, we cleared through the lot of them, leaving only Phillip alive, gaping at us with wide eyes.

  He turned to bolt out of there, but Phillip and I?

  We were just beginning.

  You no longer need your weapon, Phillip Reese. Lower your arm, and surrender it to the woman standing before you. She will know what to do.