Till Death And Beyond (Witch World)

by Lyn C. Johanson

  Chapter 19

  “Burt!” Amira heard Raven yell the moment he saw what she was looking at. “Women and children. Inside. Now!” His hand unsheathed the sword. “Jim! Willy! Take a few men and guard the door. Robin…” he continued issuing orders as the advancing Venlordians were practically at their doorstep.

  “You—” he looked at her.

  “Staying,” she announced. Amira wanted a piece of those bastards too. For Brea, for Sofie, for all the nameless girls who had suffered at their hands. She wanted blood, and she wanted it now!

  The rage she thought she’d buried came alive with a vengeance. It flared inside her, intertwined with hatred and anger. Her emotions churned, flooding her senses—with a force so powerful, a storm descended upon them all.

  Dark clouds obliterated light, replacing the glorious summer weather with a brewing maelstrom swirling above their heads. The far horizons vanished. The winds rose and howled, catching her flimsy strapless gown, causing the purple, silky fabric to flutter in the air.

  “Amira!” Raven’s voice rang louder than the bellowing thunders, his expression all but promising to throw her over his shoulder and carry her inside if she didn’t listen.

  She shook her head. If he thought for one second she would lock herself away like some coward… The thread of her thoughts snapped when Raven’s palm wrapped around the nape of her neck. He pulled her closer until their bodies met, and looking directly into her eyes, whispered, “Stay alive.”

  “Same goes for you,” Amira breathed, conscious of their hearts beating with the same wild tempo. Conscious of the plea in his hoarse voice.

  Theirs was a brief, stolen moment in the midst of a tempest. A fleeting touch that lasted a thousand lifetimes in Amira’s heart, and yet ended way too quick. There was no more time. Her gaze was drawn away by a black sea of Venlordians streaming through the iron gates, in waves of raised swords. Raven stepped in front of her, attempting to shield her with his body, but Amira jumped to his side immediately, refusing to be sheltered.

  Reacting on pure instinct, she raised her hands, palms to the enemy and screamed from the bottom of her lungs for them to stop.

  They did. The Venlordians smashed into her shield, just a few feet away.

  “You can’t hold them back forever like this,” Raven said without turning to her, his eyes never leaving the enemy.

  No she couldn’t. Amira knew that only too well. The sheer number of them, of their amulets—it was overwhelming. While normally an amulet wouldn’t have caused her to blink twice, this many of them … their collective force began penetrating, eroding her shield. To make things worse, Amira couldn’t seem to curb her own power completely. The freakish storm was a true testament to how frail the grip on her control was.

  “Release them. It’s inevitable.” Still Amira hesitated. If she was to do anything at all, it had to be now. Once the opposite armies merged together, it would be impossible to strike a blow that affected all of the members of the Order without harming the others.

  Amira ransacked her brain, desperate for any solution, but the answer was not forthcoming. If she sang or tried anything massive, her power would not differentiate between those she wanted to die and those she didn’t. Her emotions were still running amok, and she would be lying to herself if she said she could focus this kind of force.

  What could she do? She’d never been in a battle. Had no knowledge of strategies. Her gaze ran across the army of Venlordians, and then the waiting men standing just beside her. The men on her side weren’t vastly outnumbered, but the strain, even fear, in their faces was unmistakable.

  She looked at Raven, whose face showed nothing but raw determination, his eyes sharp, hands steady. She understood that this was inescapable. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shattered the shield.

  For the longest, tension-filled moment, both armies stood still, simply watching. Then a tall redheaded man pointed his sword straight at her. “A nice morsel you have here. I believe it is my lucky day,” he smiled. “Deliver the witch and we’ll spare the others.”

  Of course—they were after her! Amira clenched her fists when she saw how recognition had lit up their faces. How did they always know she was the witch with a prophecy, when in her every reincarnation she looked different, was beyond her. She would have thought Ven herself was sending them, only what did she have to gain from it? The goddess had proven time and time again that she wanted her to fulfill it.

  “What say you?” she heard the question and waited, telling herself she would not blame Raven if he delivered her to the Venlordians. There were just too many people to consider. Too many lives at risk. Though if truth be told, she feared her heart would break.

  She had been in a similar situation once before. Only no people were in danger of being hurt then. Just one man who’d sworn he loved her. And had betrayed her to save his own hide.

  “The only one who is going to be delivered is you. Straight to Zcuran!” Raven yelled, his words destroying the fragile, tense calm. Swords met and clanged. Hell itself broke loose all around her.

  Amira watched for a dazed second how the men fought, her eyes wandering to the right, to Raven, as he engaged two men at once. His body moved gracefully with such force and determination she bit her lip in admiration. She didn’t notice a Venlordian breaching the line of men in front of her and advancing with his sword, ready to swing it.

  One moment the male yelled his battle cry, going for her with full force; the next—he crumbled at her feet, his hand released the weapon. Amira cursed under her breath. She was so helpful! A hindrance, nothing more, she muttered, disgusted with herself. All the power in the world was no match for rank stupidity.

  “What did I tell you?” Raven gnashed his teeth, pulling his sword out of the lifeless body. Blood splattered everywhere. She stretched her fingers, energy flowed into her, and she swiped her hand through the air. The two enemy warriors, who went after Raven from behind, went flying.

  “Stay alive!” Amira mouthed, her hands launching energy bolts left and right.

  “Nice to know I was heard.” He was already in the fray of the action, his sword striking with lethal, but masterfully controlled blows. His movements were fluid like water—the strength behind the weapon brutal, but harnessed with perfect efficiency.

  Amira threw another energy ball, then another, but all it did was faze the Venlordians slightly. It couldn’t even hurt them enough to eliminate them from the fight—not unless she concentrated with everything in her. Her punch wasn’t as strong as she would have liked. It couldn’t kill.

  She also had to aim very carefully. And whenever she incapacitated one of them, a few more took his place, it seemed. She groaned, watching how the men ducked, jumped and swung their swords. The storm intensified, thunders roared in the sky.

  She swiped her hands right and left, throwing Venlordians around like rag dolls. But soon realized she could not continue this for long. She was using magic quicker than she was gaining it. And her reach was very limited due to the many people around her—men she didn’t want to injure.

  Offence wasn’t exactly working for her. She needed to find another approach. Needed to be smart about this.

  She glared at the sword in the hands of a tall fair-haired Venlordian, about to descend and detach Robin’s fallen body from his head, and tore it out from the hands of the enemy, plunging it deep into the other Venlordian’s chest. The move cost her dear. The strength it took her to wrench the blade from the firm male grip got her panting.

  “Thanks!” Robin jumped to his feet, prepared for another attack.

  Amira took a calming breath and, instead of fighting what she could not beat, began surveying the men more closely. Looking for who needed help the most. It took tremendous concentration from her to prevent the killing blows from hitting home. Enormous strength to do it again and again without fail. And even if the army of the Order was falling, Amira had to wonder how long she would be able to keep this up.
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  A gust of breath oozed from Raven’s lungs as a blade sliced through his side, leaving nothing but vicious pain in its wake. He changed hands in an attempt to sidestep the sneaky bastard who had attacked him from behind, but the slightest move caused the gaping wound to open up further.

  A superficial cut, he winced, knowing full well he couldn’t let it distract him. There were too many Venlordians left. Too much to lose. Conserving his strength, Raven waited for the male to come to him instead of going after him, and plunged his sword the moment his opponent was within his reach. The sharp metal went through the ribs like a knife through butter, and the Venlordian collapsed, becoming yet another corpse.

  That was when Amira brushed past him, her hands coming to rest on his torso. Her fingers moved outwards to his sides, sending a wave of sizzling energy through him.

  “You are too pale for this.” Raven grabbed her wrists in an attempt to stop her, but it was already too late. The flesh was knitting itself, his wound disappearing before their eyes. Only the thrilling sensation kept cursing through his veins.

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately?” she shot back, and despite everything, Raven’s lips curved. For one unabiding second.

  “Stop exhausting yourself,” he all but barked a moment later, instead of answering her. He might have lost blood, might even be paler than her, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the vast amounts of energy she was burning up. Even the trees began to wither in her wake wherever she turned. Grass turned into a brown carpet around her feet.

  Raven could see strain furrowing her lovely face. Even a droplet of sweat running down her temple. Or had it finally begun to rain? The storm was a strange one, to say the least. With the sky brooding, clouds swirling, thunders bellowing; and yet, nothing happening.

  “Stop worrying about me.” Her fingers crept up to his cheek in a slow caress he felt to the marrow of his bones, the touch almost making him lose all rational thought. The battle went on, however. Forcing him to return to it. Forcing him to face the carnage under his feet, and a new wave of aggressors coming at them with full force.

  He instantly pushed her aside, letting his sword intercept the strikes. The metal clanged loudly, producing sparks with each brutal hit. He kicked out, his foot connecting with a Venlordian’s stomach; then as his opponent hunched slightly, his fingers losing their firm grip, Raven took advantage and swung his sword, getting rid of the obstacle.

  He jumped over the body in front of him, his own skin beaded with sweat, heart raging. Breaths shallow. He didn’t toy with enemy—plunged and pulled the sword back, sliced, and decapitated. Yet, he couldn’t see an end to it. They were like worms crawling out of their holes. No matter how many you killed, they just kept coming.

  As he engaged two or three at a time, his eyes lost track of Amira. When he did find her, his blood turned to ice. Four Venlordians were only feet away from her, while she was so absorbed in aiding someone, she didn’t notice them approaching.

  It was only a matter of time before the enemy picked on her weakness. They surrounded her from all sides, laying a trap. It became obvious to Raven that even if she snapped out of her stupor, she wouldn’t be able to evade all four of them. Wouldn’t even see some of them before it was too late.

  Raven didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a dagger from his belt and threw it straight into the heart of the first man. Grabbed another. Threw. Was out of daggers. He cursed, running to her side. His elbow smashed into somebody’s face, and he plunged his sword deep into the third Venlordian.

  He thought he was ready for the fourth, but the duel between them was an exhausting one. His every last muscle screamed in protest. Raven didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this.

  She turned when his blade swung through the air, separating the body from its head. Blood gushed out from the mortal wound and blinded him temporarily. Raven wiped it away in time to see another man ready to strike him. In a flash of a second he realized that his sword wasn’t going to be fast enough to block the blow.

  Still, he tried to deflect the death-blow which … never came. Froze in mid-air as lighting struck the bastard directly. Skin ashen and smoking, the Venlordian went down.

  What next? Their eyes met, both of them silently asking the same question.

  They had been fighting for ages, it seemed. Many of them were injured, some seriously, and the members of the Order kept advancing. With potions even, Amira realized, as she saw a few of Raven’s men frozen in their tracks.

  She immediately reacted, neutralizing the malign effect and broke all the vials she could see. It wasn’t enough though. She knew it. What she needed was a miracle; otherwise they were going to fall. One by one.

  Venlordians were all skilled, trained fighters. And only a handful of men on Raven’s side possessed such skills. Others, despite their bravery, were deep in trouble. She could only keep them safe for so long. She could only be kept safe for so long.

  Amira took a quick glance around her. At the carnage left after Raven had dispatched the ones intending her harm. She lifted her gaze up to the man in front of her—he was panting just the same as she was.

  “Wolves! Summon your wolves,” he rasped, and Amira covered her mouth, stunned she’d forgotten all about the beasts.

  “Shadow!” she called. “Now!”

  The animal appeared instantly. Ran straight at them. And behind him, the whole horde of wolves. They howled in unison, just before she yelled “Attack!” Her voice loud enough to startle everyone.

  My pleasure, Shadow howled and lunged at the enemy.

  The beasts terrified them, and most of them ran screaming like girls, forgetting their sacred cause along with the weapons. There were some of them whose zealotry prevailed—instead of retreating, they jumped into the fray more furiously, only to be ripped apart by wild animals.

  It was a bloody massacre. She should have been horrified by the image. Should have felt sorry for the pain they suffered before dying. Yet she felt none of those things. They deserved what they got. And would get even more in the afterlife for killing innocent women, raping children.

  Now she was disgusted, but only by the vision she grudgingly painted in her own head. Amira shook it off, the image vanishing as she met Raven’s eyes. A pure, untamable surge of energy swept her straight into his embrace, and she melted as he pulled her closer and kissed her.

  “What are you doing?” her voice faltered, letting out a shuddering whisper.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He took her face in his palms, smiled, and gently touched her nose with his lips, “I am kissing you.”

  She pulled back, placing her fingers on his lips to prevent them from finding hers again. “But—”

  He didn’t let her complete the protest; instead, he placed a gentle kiss on the tips of her fingers and uttered, “You shouldn’t want to run away from pleasure.”

  “Oh please, do tell!” Amira’s heart was gaining speed, something she didn’t think could be possible after the events they had just endured.

  Instead of answering, he lowered his mouth again and nibbled her lower lip.

  Amira was so tempted, but she found strength to take a full step back. “Here?”

  Raven wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, refusing to let her go. “You ask for it behind closed doors, but deny me in the open?” His brows furrowed.

  “It’s just blood talking. Emotions running high.” She could feel every part of his body against hers, the heat of his consuming her senses. But… “You don’t want people to see you with a witch.”

  “What makes you think I give a flying fig about what others think? The only opinion that would really matter to me—” he shook his head, and before she could ask whose opinion mattered, his lips descended on hers again.

  This time Amira didn’t fight it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with a fiery passion.

  “I told you he’s under that thing’s spell,” s
he heard as if through the fog. Amira heard many voices she paid no attention to. But this one … She turned her head to the woman.

  “And he’s happy about it. But since I don’t find you attractive, think of how happy you’ll be when I put you under.” Mode blanched and ran away.

  “Don’t fry her,” Raven laughed, drawing her attention towards himself. Amira hardly even noticed that the skies were blue again. Not a single storm cloud on the horizon. “Mode, just like the other women, doesn’t know what you did here.”

  “And yet, with all that blood and so many bodies around, all they see is me. Abusing others.”

  “Not all of them,” he assured her and kissed her again. This time when their lips separated he kept looking at her as if expecting the earth to crack open under his feet and swallow him alive. He did regret this, a thought crossed Amira’s mind, and something inside her snapped.

  “Say it,” she demanded.

  “Will you be mine tonight,” he breathed, shocking her completely.

  “Wha-at?” Amira could hardly believe her ears. It had to be a hallucination of some sort.

  “Say you’ll be mine,” he repeated.

  “What changed?” she needed to know, even if all she wanted was to feel his touch.

  “I decided it’s useless to fight the inevitable.”

  “That so?”

  “It is so.”

  “And the other reason?” Amira pressed, not sure why she was doing it.

  “I’ll tell you later.” He slowly kissed her neck and she moaned as her eyes drifted shut for a single, intoxicating second.

  “Then I’ll answer you later.” Amira placed a kiss of her own on his lips. “Now come. We need to tend to the wounded.”

  He didn’t let her go immediately. Instead, he took her hands in his, and without dragging his gaze away from her eyes, said, “No more channeling of any kind. I mean it.”

  Amira’s eyebrows shot up at his order, but it was all she did before turning and sauntering away—aware of him watching her. Aware that this time it was he who had asked her.