"Perry!" Holly cried as she scampered the length of the bleacher seats, hearing the old wood creak and moan. At the end, she grabbed the handrail and started toward the ground, half climbing, half tumbling as she went. When she hit the grass she bolted, the ghouls hot on her tail.
Unfortunately, where Holly could run faster, so could they. She turned again, heading south. Here the lawn sloped up a sharp incline, and she grabbed at branches and tufts of grass to gain momentum. Cursing, she heard the ghouls closing in, making the sickening yip they gave when scenting prey.
Perry sprang from the shadows in an arcing, elegant bound. The wolf snarled, making Holly's every nerve recoil. Perry landed on the ghouls in a fury of fangs. The ghouls' yipping stopped in a sudden, profound silence. The wolf had ripped the throats from all three of the lethal monsters in record time.
Job done, Perry chased after the changeling with the crossbow. Holly's mind stalled. She would never regard Perry's sweet, scholarly smile quite the same way again.
She ran the rest of the way up the hill and flung herself on the damp grass, trying to stay flat and out of sight as she surveyed the scene of the battle. Up here she was as high as the uppermost bleachers, but now she was facing the action. There was Omara, over there the tight S-curve that was her line of defenders. The vampires seemed to be using any and all weapons, firearms, blades, and magic included. Through the tiny queen's generalship they were holding their own, and the mob of changelings and ghouls had thinned out.
Then she saw Alessandro, and her heart seemed to shatter. He was on the far side of the battle lines, the enemy side, running straight into the melee. His coat flowed behind him, his sword mowing through the throng like a clever scythe. Ghouls jumped him from behind, but he swung, backhanding them into the air. Three flew up, landing in ragged heaps, but at least a dozen were closing in behind them.
And he was wounded. She could see it in his movements. That, more than anything, galvanized her. I have to help him. I have to help all of them. Now she understood Elaine Carver, dying to keep Fairview safe. She did it because she was the only one who could.
A tug twinged in the energy field. Holly turned left, looking with her eyes and with her mind. She saw the figure with the book, the changelings, the ad hoc ritual circle in the parking lot. They 're opening a portal. It was time to do her job.
Holly scrambled to her feet. Perry thundered up with a deep woof, his ears going back.
"What?" Holly looked where Perry's gaze was fixed.
There was a line of sullen-looking vamps walking up the hill behind her. They came side by side, black coats flying, like the title shot of a trendy TV show. Oh, crap, it's the designer vamps.
Nothing about them said good guys. Why does everything have to be so bloody complicated? "Get behind me," she said to Perry.
The wolf looked at her in disbelief.
"I mean it."
He made a doggy protest. One tall vamp in the middle smiled, showing the full length of his fangs. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the meaning clear. Holly moved beyond being afraid and on to fed up. Oh, spare me the foreplay.
She needed a few practice shots. Here was a row of perfectly good targets.
She let her consciousness sink into the earth and felt the hum of power through her toes, then creeping up her thighs in an erotic column of power. The sensation was like standing in a bathtub of champagne, golden bubbles of energy exploding under her skin. It felt good, and right, and deadly. Shifting her weight, Holly felt the thrum of potential reach her belly.
A laugh welled up from wherever inappropriate jokes were born. "Hey, boys!"
A dozen pairs of vampire eyes glinted evilly in the darkness—at least, those not wearing shades despite the pitch black night. I bet they practice that glint in front of the mirror.
She raised her hands, wiggling her fingers. "Wanna play?"
From their expressions, she didn't scare them one little bit. They were halfway up the hillside before she released her first bolt.
It hung in the air, a scrap of sun in the night, incandescence where the moment before, a vampire had stood. The vamp twisted in the air, landed with a splat, and exploded in a shower of grave dust.
Cool.
Perry howled with triumph. Holly aimed again, feeling the pressure of all that glorious energy against her diaphragm. Her will—my free will!—harnessed the shot, making the aim true and fierce.
Best of all, it was easy. She could fight without pain, without being drained. She fired again, and again. The shadows around the bleachers faded to white, the light washing the stars from sight. Each shot exploded a vampire.
They ran. The prey had suddenly become the hunter. Perry chased them down the hill, calling his wolves to the chase.
Now, the ritual and Alessandro.
Descending the hill, Holly moved slowly, using an odd crab walk to keep her footing on the steep slope. She could smell churned earth and crushed grass, blood and rent flesh. Sweat slicked her skin, turning icy in the rising breeze. The stink of death made her mouth water in a bad way.
The battle was changing shape, neat battle lines collapsing into a brawl. To every side there was yipping and yelling. Metal crashed on metal. Spells cracked the air with the snap of bullwhips. Holly stopped to fire a blast once, twice. Cries of anger came as the flash blinded the nocturnal creatures. As they covered their eyes she streaked past, brushing sleeve on sleeve with a particularly ugly changeling.
She spotted Omara's green shift. The gold decoration on the queen's garb flashed as she threw a ghoul to the earth, crushing its throat with a twist of her dainty hands. Good to be on her side.
Holly felt a hand clutch the back of her jacket. Then claws were at her sleeves, her ankles, her belt. The night had grown talons. Teeth wrenched the flesh of her calf. Ghouls.
Holly kicked out but lost her balance as a dozen bony arms grabbed for her limbs. Ghoul claws raked down her face, scraping but not yet tearing the flesh. Holly's leg throbbed, her shoe hot with blood. Fangs sank into her shoulder, and Holly lost her temper. Screaming in pain and fury, she elbowed the thing in the face, at the same time letting fly a firestorm of white heat. Steam shot upward from the ghoul, the blast too hot for mere smoke, leaving nothing but a carbonized twist of flesh. Kicking the charred creature away, Holly watched it shatter on the grass to flakes of black ick.
The other ghouls gibbered in terror, dropping to all fours to run. Holly took three or four steps toward them. It was enough to send them bolting.
The bites from the ghouls' viselike jaws knifed through her leg and arm, bringing nausea in their wake. Holly's journey shrank to putting one foot before the other. She stumbled the last yards to where the vampires were bunched in a tight, defensive circle. No creature bothered her for those excruciating steps. Apparently the ability to barbecue at will had earned her some street cred.
Then Alessandro shouldered through the wall of vamps, looking around wildly until he saw her. He was a mess, his hair straggling in a shredded aureole, his coat torn and covered with muck and blood. He was taking her into his arms, and then pulling her to safety behind the front ranks of the vampire warriors. He felt so good, so strong, Holly melted against him. At the moment nothing mattered but the fact that they were both still standing.
"You're hurt," she mumbled into the collar of his filthy coat.
"So are you. Don't worry about me. I'll heal." From the way he held himself, she wasn't sure about that. She gave him the best of her kisses, her hands clinging to his sleeves.
It was all the time she could afford. "I have to stop the ritual."
He dug his fingers into the snarled mass of her hair, tipping up her face so that his golden eyes could hold her gaze. His look was possessive, full of battle fire. "Whatever you need. I'll get you there."
Her knees wobbled as Alessandro opened his mouth to say more. She grabbed for him just as he stumbled, trying to steady himself. The ground was shaking, rolling with sickening heaves. We're too
late.
With one last jolt the tremor stopped. Holly panted, still as a mouse within the circle of Alessandro's arm. Seconds passed. Then, as if invisible hands parted the sea of warring bodies, the combatants drew back from the goalposts dead ahead. All fighting ceased, every vampire, ghoul, and changeling stopping to stare at the aurora borealis flickering between the two uprights. Sickly green, the pale sheen spiraled in a roiling flutter that brought bile up the throat. A portal.
At least it's a change from orange.
Omara came up beside them, her face set in a fierce mask. "I beg you, Holly Carver, stand with us now. If I have wronged you, do not hold it against my people. Help me save them."
Brighter light rippled around the green whirlpool. A howl went up from the changelings, part jubilation, part terror. The vampires, to a fang, were silent and still. The ghouls just ran. Contrary to all expectations, they were the smart ones.
Two hands parted the swirl of green like a curtain and stepped through. To no one's surprise, it was Geneva. She wore full battle uniform: boots, camouflage, and a bandanna around her long golden hair.
What did catch Holly off guard was Mac appearing at her elbow, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He smiled at her. It was like a cold, glutinous slug sliding down her spine.
Geneva came forward, Mac a pace or two behind. Swiftly Omara put herself between her court and the advancing demon. The queen was filthy, her torn silks trailing shreds like pennants as she moved, but her spine was arrow-straight. She stopped when there were only about eight feet between them. Only the tightness in Omara's jaw showed her fear.
"Here we are again," Geneva said simply. She was taller by a head.
"And here you lose again," Omara said, loudly enough for all to hear.
Holly started to spool the golden energy inside her. Okay, power as water cannon—hold it till the portal closes. How hard can that be?
"You have the witch, but I have the book." Geneva smiled. "And I have to say you are all looking… well, a bit grubby. Softened up by my advance troops."
The posturing was lost on Holly. Behind the goalposts, small orange portals were sprouting up all over the campus lawn with audible pops. Out of each miniportal stepped a guardsman, dozens and dozens of them, gigantic swords in hand. Ben's cavalry, come to take us all to prison. They just waited until the gang was all here, nice and convenient.
Geneva finally noticed no one was paying attention to her. She slowly turned her head, looking over her shoulder. "Oh."
The guardsmen charged the watching crowd, a chilling battle cry thundering from their massive chests. The supernatural armies moved as one, enemies suddenly united against this new emergency. Holly saw Perry and his wolves, and her stomach jumped with fear for their safety.
Distracted, no one saw Geneva lunge for Holly. "Now you're mine!"
Holly felt cold, cold energy streak up her arm, as if the demon were drawing life away by mere touch. "Back off!"
She threw a blast of power, twisting away as Geneva staggered. Mac caught the demon as she fell. Holly fell back, her flesh dead white where the demon's touch had been. Golden power flooded her limbs, healing the wound, healing the throbbing ghoul bites, but there was nothing left to defend herself.
Alessandro rushed in, fangs bared and sword raised high for a sweeping blow.
Oh, Goddess, thought Holly, seeing the wound in his side. He's bleeding!
Mac lunged to block him, but too late. The blade arced in a moonlit crescent of deadly grace, Alessandro's charge lending force to the stroke. The slice went from Geneva's shoulder to her opposite hip in what should have been a catastrophic wound. Instead she flickered for an instant, letting the sword pass through thin air. The sudden absence of resistance made Alessandro stagger with the impetus, driving him close to the portal.
Wheeling, he dropped the blade and crouched, changing tactics. He flexed his hands like claws, ready to spring. With a sound like rushing flames, Geneva hissed with rage.
Holly shook herself, feeling her magic click back on track. Alessandro was on his feet again, too. He sprang forward, but Mac jumped to meet him, wrestling Alessandro with a strength he had never before possessed.
The portal flickered, throwing lurid green waves of light over the scene. Glancing up, Holly could see it was growing, like a tear in the sky unraveling as she watched. Soon they would be able to get a good look at what lay on the other side.
Including, apparently, the main changeling army. They started swarming out of the rift like an infestation of ants. Oh, Goddess, there're hundreds of them. Not even the guardsmen could stop all these!
From where she stood next to the portal, Geneva grinned. The shifting green light made the spots on her camo gear shift and swirl. "Just wait."
The words were clear inside Holly's head, as if the demon were standing next to her. I think I liked her better as a mouse.
Geneva's eyes shone. "I'm already inside you. The vampires have you now, but when they're gone, the taste of your soul will be mine."
"Will you people stop trying to eat me?" Holly yelled. "It's pissing me off!" Earth power flowed into her, rising like sweet wine to her head. Wild with primal anger, she took in more and more. The earth yielded it up willingly, lovingly. "I can't take one more goddess-damned thing trying to chew on me!"
The blast blew Geneva backward through the rift with a satisfying ka-foom. The emerging changeling army just happened to be in the way, bugs smashed on the windshield.
Holly tried to broaden the focus of her stream of power, leaving the demon nowhere to move. The flow juddered, sucking more energy, wobbling like a car with a flat tire. Holly panted, desperate for a means of control. What was it Grandma had suggested? Aurelia's matrix? The Caer Gwydion reduction? Holly could barely think. I have to do this. I have to hang on.
Holly's perceptions expanded, gorged on power. Every detail was clear, movements graceful as a film in slow motion. Mac slipped Alessandro's grip and ran toward Geneva. Alessandro fell to one knee, grabbing his sword and sweeping it up to cleave a changeling in two.
Holly could still see Geneva undulating in the blast of power, a rag in the wind.
Mac skidded to a halt next to the rift, the whirling light of the portal painting his features like a ritual mask. Geneva reached toward him, her hair blown wild, hiding her face.
Mac's eyes sought Holly's like a drowning sailor sought a floating plank of wood. He found her gaze and clung fast. His expression was pained, mad, exhilarated, horrified—but Holly was slipping away, gulping down the rush of magic, letting it burst from her in an improvised weapon. She felt as if she were turning inside out.
Geneva began to resist, slamming back against Holly's force.
Thud.
Holly jerked, her feet sliding on the grass. Oh, crap.
Thud.
Tears sprang to her eyes, sharp pangs of tension fingering the space between her shoulder blades. She could feel her heart pounding, the urgent rhythm matching the pulse in the energy flow.
Thud.
Holly stumbled, her concentration broken. The flow sputtered. Panic grabbed her. No, no, no! She opened the stream full throttle, a desperate negation of terror. Energy reamed through her, hollowing her core. She gave herself up to it completely, surrendering herself the way Elaine Carver had done. I'm going to die.
It was hard to tell what was happening. Holly could feel the portal spinning wider and wider, but Geneva no longer struggled beneath her magic.
This is weird.
Holly wasn't even sure whether she was touching the ground. She rode the pressure of the golden fire, her eyes wide-open, seeing but not seeing the physical world. She floated in a geyser of light. The flow blasted away the Dark Larceny, whatever traces remained of Alessandro's vampire mark, anything that was not truly hers. In fact, there wasn't much left at all. Her body was the thinnest shell, everything within and without filled with energy from deep in the primordial earth.
She probed the port
al. The tear in reality was out of control—but if Holly slammed it shut the blast would kill her. No point in repeating Elaine's mistake.
Lore had given her an idea. Not all denizens of the Castle should stay there. Others should. Why not have a door and keep the key? Let the portal stay open, but create a means to control it?
Arts and crafts were never her thing, but Holly set to work. She cauterized the rift, burning the wound in the ether until it scarred over, folding the universe over and over until the tear in its fabric was reshaped and made useful. Holly worked quickly, but the golden light gushed forth faster than she could direct it. The effect was like swallowing water while she was swimming—except this hit her like one too many drinks. The earth was giving her undiluted power, and it was strong stuff.
The golden hum of Holly's magic amplified, the volume creeping up the way a teenager cranked up her headphones. Her perception went wild, everything she was doing suddenly lost in a firestorm of bliss. She threw her head back, feeling the tingle of energy on her throat, down her breasts. This was the kind of magic that made a witch immortal, renewed in the crucible of her own power. She was pumped, jazzed, stoked on the sheer strength of it.
Until she lost control and it all exploded like a Roman candle.
Chapter 30
Alessandro stared at the empty air where the portal had been. Geneva was gone. So were the guardsmen, the changelings, and Macmillan.
And so was Holly. A long moment of disconnection passed. This can't be real. "What the hell just happened?" he asked Omara.
"Your little witch defeated the demon and closed the portal," Omara replied, her voice softened with amazement. "I would not have believed it, but she was stronger than her ancestor. In the end there was no need for The Book of Lies."
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