Faris jerked his hand up. A jet of black demon magic erupted from his fingers and shot from his outstretched hand. The ghoul took it in the heart.
The force of it threw the ghoul back and up into the air. It was held there for a moment, wreathed in a halo of black energy. The demon thrashed and howled, its misshapen limbs flailing and kicking.
And then Faris snapped his fingers.
The ghoul demon exploded in a mess of black blood and guts.
Dripping bits of ghoul rained down around us, landing with little, wet plopping sounds on the street, the sidewalk, and parked cars.
I closed my mouth and ducked, just in case. Nothing was fouler than ghoul bits on your tongue. Trust me, I knew.
Beside me, Faris cursed. “Guess I have to cancel my plans with my two virgins tonight. Do you know how hard it is to find real virgins in this century?”
“I can image.”
I heard a hissing noise behind me.
I whirled around and caught a glimpse of black, intense eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Its breath alone could knock a person right out.
Adrenaline surged, feeding me with a blast of power.
“Fulgur chordis!” I shouted, spindling the magic from my rings. Shoots of blue electricity slammed into the igura demon, knocking it off its feet. The demon thrashed and howled as the cords of blue electricity wrapped around it, burning through its flesh like acid. The igura thrashed once more and then exploded into a cloud of luminous black vapor and ash.
Nice.
I spun around, seeing Faris hit demon after demon with volleys of black death, as though his hands were semi-automatic demon weapons. I’ll admit. He looked good doing it. He capered a little dance step in place, hitting the lesser demons with precision—a mid-demon of many talents.
A scream sounded near me. The voice was young, possibly a kid. The scream turned high pitched and then became a strangled sound.
I made a wild dash toward the scream, past a parked car, and halted.
The body of a young witch, maybe sixteen, lay on the ground next to the car. She rested in a large puddle of her blood, forming a sticky pool around her. Her face was covered in a mask of blood and ribbons of torn flesh. Bile rose in the back of my throat.
A ghoul hovered over her, eating strings of what looked like her intestines. It had ripped open her throat too, gotten her jugular. Her jeans were shredded, and I could see the gouges of ghoul fangs in her flesh. Her beautiful blue-gray eyes stared upward at nothing, glazed and dead. The young witch’s mouth was open, maybe in her last attempt at a spell. She was a witchling. She didn’t have the experience to handle a ghoul. She shouldn’t have had to.
My vision turned red.
The ghoul turned and looked up at me, strips of the witch’s flesh hanging from its mouth.
Fury blossomed in my chest. So did my power.
Drawing in the magic from my rings, I focused all of it on one single goal—obliterating the ghoul.
Putting all my rage into the spell, I snarled, “Feurantis!’
Two balls of fire hit the ghoul. It didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t care.
The blow knocked it off the witch and it collided with the ground, rolling like a flaming marshmallow from hell. The fire filled the street with a glow of yellow and orange light. Heat from the fire hit me, and I took a step back, watching as the ghoul’s body snapped in half and then disintegrated into a pile of ash.
Blood pounded in my ears as I spun around. An imp scurried toward an unsuspecting werewolf with a dark blade in its hand. The werewolf cut through an igura demon with impressive skill. He wouldn’t notice the imp until the little bastard stabbed him in the neck.
Rage, hot and unrelenting, filled me.
I rushed toward the imp. Magic mixed with my hatred roared in. It overflowed my will and poured into my body. My skin was tingling, and I was hot. I felt a surge of incoming force from my rings that built as my anger grew.
When I was ten feet from the imp, I let it go.
“Conlidam!”
The spell hit the imp. It dropped its blade, stunned for a moment, and staggered. Then the imp exploded in a spill of meat chunks and black blood, showering the streets in a slippery mess.
I’d never thought to use a shatter spell on a demon before. Now that I saw what it could do, I was going to use it again. And soon.
I took a step and faltered. Dizzy. I breathed through my nose, steadying myself. Looks like that last spell had taken a chunk of my energy. Damn. I felt my magic slip, the force behind my spells wavering. I was going to run out of magic pretty soon if I kept this up.
“Sam!” came Faris’s voice behind me.
I whirled around.
Faris snapped the head of a hellhound and tossed the body on the ground. “I love a good demon brawl. But if we don’t leave soon, we’re not going to make it. A hundred to one aren’t great odds. Even for a badass demon like me.”
Crap. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t leave when six Rifts were vomiting out demons in my neighborhood.
“Sam.”
“No.”
I had to do something. I wouldn’t abandon my community or my people.
The Rifts would eventually close. Hopefully. But if they were anything like the other one I’d faced, that might take a while. Until then, I just had to keep killing what came out until my power ran out.
Making up my mind, I rushed into a cluster of ghouls despite Faris’s shouts of protests. Narrowing my eyes, I made for the closest ghoul, a skeletal one with barely any meat on its bones. The meat it did have was dark and rotten like a typical zombie from a horror movie.
“Conlidam!” The spell left my mouth, tearing out a chunk of my energy and magic. I didn’t care. I sank everything I had into it.
The ghoul exploded in a slop of flesh and bones. I ran through it, bits of cold flesh hitting my face, but I didn’t care. I kept running.
Movement caught my attention.
More demons poured out of the Rift. Ten. Twenty. They kept coming and coming. “Cauldron help us,” I whispered.
A ghoul saw me and halted. It crouched and then leaped twenty feet forward with an easy grace, landing with cat-like precision. I had no idea they could do that.
And look what I can do.
“Feurantis!”
Throwing it down from my pounding heart, twin balls of fire hit the ghoul and it went down in a thrashing blaze of fire.
Moving on.
Someone screamed in utter terror. The demons were mad with bloodlust and wild with the hunger for the half-breeds’ lifeforce. They surged forward in an unstoppable killing wave, slaughtering every half-breed that had stayed to fight. The half-breeds didn’t stand a chance. They would never get out of the hellish massacre of pain and death this street was about to become.
My boots caught on something wet and I slipped. I went down hard. Panting, I pushed myself to my feet, trying not to think about what was sticking to me. It was blood, but I didn’t know if it was half-breed or demon. And now I was covered in it. Great.
A wave of nausea hit again. I was pushing myself too hard, too fast, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Not if I wanted to live. And yeah. Living was good.
I threw my gaze over the heads of demons and half-breeds, searching for Faris. I couldn’t see him through the wiggling mass of demons.
Fear clutched my heart. If the demons had killed Faris, it would be my fault.
By the time I’d heard the snarl, it was already too late.
Pain iced through my back as a black shadow crashed into me. I screamed and lunged to catch myself before my face plowed into the hard pavement. Instincts kicked in.
“Sphaeras!” I shouted, willing my fear and anxiety into a tangible protective shield of golden energy. The energy rose from the ground and over my head to complete a sphere as my adrenaline roared.
The igura hurtled itself at my sphere, faster than I could have believed something so massive could move. The walls shook aroun
d me. The shield didn’t break, but I knew it would only last for another minute or so. My energy and magic were nearly spent. The igura had gotten me, and gotten me good from the wetness I felt dripping down my back.
I watched the beast through my golden shield. Bloodstained drool spilled from its large maw, and its black eyes blazed with hellish fury.
At that moment I knew two things for sure. One, my sphere was about to collapse, and two, the moment it did, I was on the igura’s menu.
I had a few seconds before my protective shield fell, so I took the opportunity to look around.
I wished I hadn’t.
Bodies of half-breeds littered the streets, some with ghouls munching on their brains through their cracked-open skulls. The smell of blood was strong, and it stuck to my skin like a thick mist.
The air shifted and popped.
It didn’t matter how fast or clever I was with my spells. With the rate of the outpour of demons through the Rifts, Mystic Quarter would be overrun completely in just a few hours. And when they had no more half-breeds to kill, the demons would turn on the humans. Sunup was still hours away. We didn’t stand a chance.
The Rifts shimmered and vomited some more demons, pouring out like a swarm of starving rats.
My courage failed. We’d never survive this. I could maybe try to close one of the Rifts. But if I did, I’d be eaten by an igura demon the moment I’d collapsed from the effort it took to shut the Rift.
We were all going to die.
Shouts resonated over the growls, tearing of flesh, and other various sounds of battle. They sounded like voices. Like commands. Definitely not demon.
I blinked through my shield.
An army of about forty or more humans swarmed into the street. They were dressed in similar black clothes and moved through the demons like a death storm, slicing and dicing any demon bastard they met. Gleaming silver blades hung in their hands. Angel-borns.
The demons hissed and retreated into the shadows of the streets, trying to escape from the onslaught of the angel-born. The igura that had cut me leaped away in giant bounds.
A group of five angel-born broke apart from the group, each moving toward a Rift. One by one the angel-borns tossed something small, round, and brilliantly white into each Rift.
A sudden, brilliant glare of white light leaped up from within the Rifts followed by five sonic booms that sounded like fireworks. I crashed to my knees as I covered my ears.
I watched as the five Rifts rippled and then vanished.
Another angel-born appeared at the last Rift. Logan. My breath caught as I watched him toss what looked like a similar white globe into the Rift.
And just like the others, the Rift was enveloped by a brilliant white light. The boom that hit next sent a tremor along my body.
With a final ripple, the last Rift disappeared.
CHAPTER 17
I sat at my kitchen island with my hands wrapped around a cup of my grandfather’s magical healing tea that tasted like liquid mud. I was on my second cup.
After a quick healing sigil, I still needed seven stitches in my lower back where the igura had sliced me open. The bastard had gotten me good, but it was nothing my grandfather couldn’t fix.
“I’m afraid it’s going to leave a scar,” my grandfather had told me as he finished stitching me up.
“I don’t care,” had been my response.
I’d been in a foul mood. Now my mood had darkened to a violent storm with hail the size of golf balls.
After the angel-borns had showed up, it took about eight minutes before all the demons had been vanquished, well, at least the ones that were still in Mystic Quarter. If I had to guess, I’d say hundreds still lingered in the city.
Logan had sent the same team of angel-borns out to monitor the city streets to protect all human life, as was the angel-borns’ mandate. I prayed they’d be successful. I didn’t want to have to imagine children being torn apart in their beds or just anyone dying for that matter. That many demons in our world in one night was unheard of. And now it had happened.
The streets of Mystic Quarter were painted in the blood of its people, with a mix of demon gore. Some of the demon bodies had combusted into ash while others remained in piles of sloppy entrails and bones. The Gray Council cleanup crew were already hard at work by the time I picked myself up, found my familiar, and started the limp home.
Faris was on his third glass of scotch. His hair was disheveled and sticking up at odd places as though he’d fought with his hair putty. Only I knew whatever was making his hair stand up like that wasn’t molding paste—more like demon innards jelly.
His face was smeared with dark blood, not his own. The front of his shirt was torn, the top four buttons missing to reveal more blood spatter on his chest.
A murderous expression creased his face, and I knew better than to ask him what was the matter.
Time was running out and we weren’t any closer at finding the EAM crew or the book.
I squeezed my fingers around my cup until I could barely feel them.
Someone cleared their throat. Logan. He stood in the kitchen, his back to the counter, staring at me.
I was ignoring him.
I was still angry with him for siding with Irva, but I was too tired to get into it right now. And he had just saved all our asses, so I decided to let that one slide. He had his reasons. He was loyal to the Gray Council. I was loyal to cheesecake and wine.
Still, something bothered me. “How did you know about the Rifts?” I asked, meeting his eyes for the first time since we got back.
“We monitor the Veil,” he answered, a visible ease in his posture that I was speaking to him. “We check for holes and anomalies, changes in the Earth’s magnetic fields. When we spotted the changes… we located the Rifts and then sent in a team.”
I took a sip of my tea. “And those things you threw at the Rifts? Those were the infamous moonstones. Right?” They would come in handy if I ever faced another Rift. It’d beat using my magic and draining myself.
“Exactly,” answered the angel-born, smiling at what he saw on my face. Probably remnants of demon guts. “I have extra ones in my car if you want.”
I shrugged, trying not to look too eager. “I’ll think about it.”
“Think about what?” My grandfather strolled into the kitchen wearing the same dark green bathrobe I’d seen him in earlier. He moved next to me and looked inside my cup. “You need to drink more.”
“I’m not into drinking mud. Mud… tastes like mud.”
My grandfather made a huff. “You want to get better?” he tapped a finger on the counter. “You drink your tea. Now, little missy. Don’t make me get angry.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that.” I stared down into my cup, trying hard not to retch at the smell of dirt.
A faint ting came from Logan’s pocket and he checked his phone.
“What?” I asked curiously.
“I asked to be notified of any sudden changes in the Veil,” he answered, his face serious.
“And?” asked my grandfather before I could.
“So far nothing.” Logan sighed and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “It still doesn’t explain how this happened. Six Rifts opening like that. I don’t understand it. And it seems no one can explain it to me.”
“I can,” I answered before I even realized I’d spoken out loud. All eyes turned on me. “The Extreme Anti-magic Movement group is doing this.”
“How?” Logan pushed off and came closer, resting his hands on the kitchen island.
“It’s simple,” I said, nodding as the pieces came together. “The EAM cronies are performing a spell. A very complex spell to remove all magic from the world.” At the widening in Logan’s eyes, I knew Irva hadn’t told him everything. “Remember two nights ago, when Faris and I stumbled into a Rift? Which isn’t that uncommon on its own, but right before I saw it, there was this blue light. Then we were blasted off our feet by some invisible force.”
I looked over at Faris but he was staring at his glass.
My grandfather placed his hands on his hips. “You never told me that.”
“Because I didn’t know what it meant until now.” I took a breath and continued. “It happened on the same night Sarek was killed and the book was stolen from the vault.” Dread squeezed my insides until I thought I might puke my grandfather’s magical mud-tea. “And that same night… the EAM douches started the spell.”
“A spell that would remove all magic,” stated Logan, and I could see the thoughts and questions forming behind his eyes.
“Exactly,” I answered, watching my grandfather’s face fall. “But you see, this spell, won’t just rid the world of magic… it’s going to rid it of us too.”
My grandfather gasped. “What are you saying?”
“Those who are connected to magic,” I said. “Those who have magic in their veins, in their very essence, are going to die.”
My grandfather’s knees buckled and for a horrible moment I thought the old witch was going to collapse. By some miracle, he stood on his old bones. “Is that what Evanora said?”
“Yes,” I said. “This book is the cause. And the Gray Council had it in a vault all this time.” My eyes found Logan, his face deep in a frown. He remained silent, his expression stern, but his eyes danced with fury. “According to my aunt, for the spell to work, three magical seals have to be broken. I think it’s what the white-blue light is. I think that’s what happens when a seal is lifted.” I exhaled. “And now we know the second seal was broken tonight.” I leaned forward. “I think… each time a seal breaks—the Veil weakens. It’s why more Rifts are opening. These idiots are destroying the Veil.”
My grandfather cursed. “Goddess save us.”
Logan clenched his jaw, his eyes on me. “Are you sure?”
“Samantha’s logic is sound.” Faris lowered his empty glass onto the counter. “By removing all magic from this world, it will affect the Veil. You see, the Veil is also held with magic—celestial magic, but magic, nonetheless. As such, this spell is removing layers of the Veil, like peeling an onion. If they complete this spell, not only will all the magic die, but the Veil will as well.”
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