by Brandon Witt
“Even so, that doesn’t mean you can—”
“Let him try, witch. You’re not helping.”
To my amazement, Caitlin didn’t offer a retort to the werewolf. She actually nodded and stepped back.
Brett glanced over his shoulder, his eyes on mine. “Actually, if you could all move back quite a ways. I’m pretty sure I can do this, but I don’t know how hot it will have to get.” Something changed in his expression, and he looked down. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about those.” He lowered his hand and slipped the shorts over his legs, then tossed them to Shane.
When he was confident we were far enough away, he returned his attention to the task at hand.
All I remembered of Brett’s ability was him bursting into uncontrolled flames whenever he couldn’t rein in his emotions. Watching him now, as the fire started under his palms and spread up over his arm and then encompassed his naked body, the increase in his strength and power was undeniable. It seemed incomprehensible that there’d ever been any doubt to his heritage. He was every inch a demon as his inferno roared around him.
Through the blaze, Cynthia was visible, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing us. Her expression was fierce—not in anger, but in barely controlled power.
Confirming my suspicion that she knew we were there, the sconces surrounding her chamber and as far down the passageways as I could see combusted in surges of fire.
“Holy shit.” Caitlin’s muttered words echoed my own thoughts. The witch who was getting ready to exit was not the same as the one who had been captured.
My attention was drawn back to Brett, his skin a fiery opalescence within the flames. The fire spread over the wall several feet past the circumference of the sphere of fire that enclosed him. The marble didn’t char nor melt, it simply seemed to be consumed without residue.
When at last Brett lowered his arms, his skin glistened, slowly dimming, as if the fire were retreating back inside his core.
Through the now-open space, Cynthia rose from the bed and strode with calm determination toward Brett.
Wordlessly, she stepped up to him, her body only inches from his, and craned her neck up to look him fully in the face. Raising her hand, she placed her palm on his cheek.
I gasped as fire ignited over the side of Brett’s face, half expecting him to scream in pain. The impulse was stupid, as fire couldn’t harm a demon, but it was so unexpected. As we watched, the flames seemed to separate from Brett’s skin and encompass Cynthia’s hand. They grew in size and brightness as the embers flickered over her upper arm, descending toward her face. By the time the fire reached her shoulders, however, her body seemed to have absorbed the flames.
Cynthia nodded to him, almost as if in thanks, then looked toward us.
If seeing her interaction with Brett hadn’t been proof enough, when her fear had made it nearly impossible for her to be in the same room with him before, the power in her eyes confirmed she’d become something new, someone we didn’t quite know.
As if emerging from a chrysalis, Cynthia stepped past Brett and out of her prison. Within a few feet, she was before us. She paused in front of Caitlin and touched her face, the same as she had with Brett.
“Cynthia, no!” For a horrifying moment, I expected to see fire consume Caitlin. At her flinch, it would seem Cate had feared the same thing.
Ignoring me, Cynthia leaned closer and kissed Caitlin’s cheek, then pulled away.
She touched my face in the same manner, kissing me in turn.
She was still Cynthia. I could feel my sister, the familiar bond between us still there, but barely. She felt foreign. Not only less like family, but less like any witch I’d ever known. The sensation reminded me vaguely of the Square, for some reason. More benign than evil, but it scared me just the same. More than ever, I was glad she hadn’t stayed imprisoned any longer. Our sister might have disappeared completely.
I’d expected tears and hugs and a rush of emotion from all three of us. Instead, Caitlin and I matched Cynthia’s silence. Somehow both of us knew she wasn’t going to respond any more than she already had.
When I looked back at Brett, he stood beside the werewolf and was tying the string of his shorts. He glanced up and caught my eye.
The six of us stood there, matching the stillness of the place.
Finally, Newton’s monotone voice broke the silence. “Well then, let’s do this.”
Forty-Five
BRETT WRIGHT
Floating in the air under a sheet was the last way I would have chosen to enter a room filled with vampires, even if it was a golden and jewel-encrusted sheet. I already didn’t feel up to the challenge, and even less so when I wasn’t supposed to move any part of my body.
Apparently the bait and switch had been Newton’s idea. Though I didn’t like it, I had to admit it made sense. If I walked through the room looking all demon-like, the fighting would be instantaneous. This way, Finn, Schwint, and I could at least get fully into the room.
“Wait!” Newton’s hushed whisper startled me, and I flinched, which only caused me to dip awkwardly in the air. This was going to cure any desire I’d ever had to be able to fly.
Irritation laced Schwint’s words as he answered back. “Newton, we don’t have any more time.”
Even with the silencing spell Caitlin had cast to keep our voices from being heard by the vampires in the room, the murmured tones on the other side of the sheet seemed to be screams.
“He looks like a man under the sheet. They’ll notice it instantly.”
A pause followed, and I assumed they were looking at me levitating a few feet off the ground. I probably looked like a cadaver being wheeled down to the morgue, sans gurney.
Another second passed, and I felt fluttering around my feet.
Schwint spoke up, his voice closer to my head. “You think that will work, Finn? I haven’t seen the mers yet.”
“Looks like a tail to me. Good thinking, Newton. I should have thought of that earlier.”
“We’ll wait for your call.” I strained to hear the fairy walking away but then realized he was probably flying. No steps to hear. The others were waiting just around the corner. Close enough to hear if things went south—when things went south—but out of sight of the doorway.
Without any other warning, I heard a door creak open, and my body floated forward of its own accord. I simultaneously focused on being ready to spring into action and keeping my nerves under control. The ploy wouldn’t give us any advantage if I burst into flames.
I knew instantly when we entered the room; I could feel the change. The sun warmed my skin through the sheet. The electric sense of anticipation in the air was palpable. Voices murmured.
“What is this, warlock?” The tone sounded like that of a young boy, one on the verge of a tantrum.
“I thought the covering would add to the grandness of the ceremony, Your Majesty.”
Frustration laced the next words. “Not the sheet. I don’t care about that. However, I was very clear that my bull was to be left alone.”
“I did not bring the redheaded merman, sire.” Finn was able to keep his timbre steady and calm. I was surprised.
“I am aware of all of my mers, warlock. There is only one that is of this size.”
Without warning, the sheet was yanked from me and sunlight blinded my eyes.
“Explain or die, warlock.”
Blinking, I peered up into a young teenager’s face. Though angry, he had no real reaction as he looked down at me. His gaze traveled down my body, taking in my legs. No other emotion than anger.
I’d expected the room to explode into chaos when Finn at last removed the sheet and I grabbed the closest vampire and lit it up like a torch. Instead of fear, the only emotion the vampire radiated was fury. I guess a vampire king didn’t have much to be afraid of.
Instead of answering, Finn released his spell, turning me upright and letting gravity take over.
Acting as quickly as I could, my hands ignited and
I grabbed for the king’s face.
A clap sounded as my hands closed on nothing. Then I was flying across the room and came to an abrupt halt as my body slammed into stone. I crashed to the hard ground, a tangle of vines snagging at my arms as I attempted to right myself.
I looked up just in time to see a dark blur rush toward me. Before I could react, another shape collided with it. The projectiles crashed into the wall next to me, and I scampered away, stumbling as I stood.
Finn was directly in front of me when I managed to get my footing. His mouth was open, ready to call out to the others, but he gaped instead. I turned to see what had caused his reaction.
The entire room was frozen in place. Even the vampires out in my peripheral vision didn’t move. Every being stood enthralled by the scene.
They remained there, feet entangled by the vines that been ripped down from the wall.
Genuine hurt was etched over the young king’s face as he stared at Sonia. “You betray me?”
Instead of responding, she whipped her head around, looking past me, toward the door. “Now!”
Her voice still echoed through the cavernous room when she turned back toward the king, her claws slashing at his throat as she whirled.
The king’s speed was so great that I didn’t see him move.
Blood spurted, covering his face.
Unable to make sense of what I was seeing through the blur of motion, I didn’t cry out until Sonia’s body crumpled at the king’s feet. Her throat was ripped open, back twisted at an impossible angle. Dark blood jetted over her black hair, splayed across the pink marble floor. Her eyes bulged wide, lifeless.
I flew at him, my body crashing into his as his foot arched down toward Sonia’s head.
The king only took a step backward at my impact, as his hand clasped around my neck and lifted me straight above his head so my feet didn’t touch the floor.
His nails pierced my throat, and I let the fire rush up from my core.
Another black blur collided with the king, ripping him away from me and sending my body reeling once more.
Even before I could turn to look, the wolf’s body was also flung away from the king.
A hair’s breadth from a bone-crushing impact with the wall, Shane froze in midair. With a gentle downward gesture from Finn’s outstretched arm, the wolf landed with all four feet on the ground.
Both Schwint and Newton zoomed past my head, their wings beating in a blur as I turned back toward the king.
The room detonated. I saw Shane leap, his fangs clamping around the neck of one of the vampires. At the same time, two vampires fell on Caitlin. She flung them from her body with a gale force gust of wind, but before she could recast, they sprang on her once more.
I rushed toward her but was yanked back by strong hands, fangs simultaneously sinking into the back of my neck.
Screaming, I tried to lunge toward Caitlin again, but more claws and fangs tore into me, the weight of the vampires taking me to my knees. I didn’t feel my attackers; I only saw the blood that blossomed from where Caitlin had fallen.
Finn yelled Schwint’s name, followed by a flash of light from his general direction.
And then the tumult ended.
For a moment, every body was frozen in place, the monsters still latched onto my flesh but sinking in no deeper.
I cried out in pain as their fangs were ripped from my skin. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw my five assailants. They hovered, statue-like, a few inches off the ground, their faces twisted in pain.
Looking past them, I realized every vampire was in an identical state. Each of us stared dumbly at one another. Finn met my eyes as he rose up from the ground, three vampires immobile beside him. Though bloodied, he seemed mostly unharmed.
It had only been seconds, but we’d been losing. Every one of us would have died. We’d been a mere moment of irritation to the vampires. No more. All the searching, all the planning, and it would have come to nothing. I wasn’t sure what was happening to the vampires, and I didn’t have to know the reason. We just needed to act before things went back to normal.
I glanced over toward the king. He too was frozen in place, though he seemed to be regaining partial control of his body, at least his head was craning this way and that, trying to break free. At his feet, Sonia’s body remained lifeless on the floor, the pool of blood surrounding her continuing to grow.
The only one not in the midst of the fray was a solitary vampire on the other side of a long silver table. She stared past me, her eyes wide with terror. She was a small waif of a woman, a living Victorian cameo. She was protected from the sun under a swath of tapestries. Impossibly, my fury increased as I looked at the fragile vampire. She was the one this whole slaughter was for. The one who’d captured the young mers. Though not stationary like the rest, she was trapped under the protection of the shade.
Finn’s voice brought me back to the present, and I pulled my attention away from the vampire.
Forty-Six
FINN DE MORISCO
I found Schwint. He and Newton were both injured. One of Newton’s wings was broken, and huge gashes were across Schwint’s throat and chest. Considering Gwala was immobile less than a foot from them, the fact that they were alive was miraculous.
Brett was okay, despite the hoard of vampires around him. It wasn’t until he looked toward Charity that I found Caitlin, still crumpled on the ground, the vampires raised above her.
I rushed toward her, calling her name.
At my voice, Caitlin shifted, managing to push herself up into a nearly seated position. She was covered in blood, which still ran down from impossibly deep wounds under her jaw. She wasn’t looking at me, though. I paused, a foot or so from reaching her, and followed her line of sight.
Cynthia stood in the doorway, arms outstretched, her body glowing. Her long hair and gown billowed around her like she floated under water.
Following the path of her extended hands, I realized she held the vampires captive. For a moment, an irrational surge of fear flooded through me at the sight of her. She was more foreign to me than any of the monsters that surrounded us. I’d never seen power of the like. A witch couldn’t hold one vampire—let alone an entire roomful.
The sconces on the wall flared, shooting ten or more feet in the air. A motion to my left drew my attention away from the flames. Brett walked slowly toward her.
Shane was between them, and he padded out of the way, the upper lip of his muzzle curling back, revealing his massive fangs as he drew closer to one of the frozen vampires.
Brett stopped directly in front of Cynthia. Both his shorts and hair fluttered in the proximity of her power.
It was obvious they were communicating, though I doubted any words were exchanged.
Fire blossomed in the palms of Brett’s hands, and he reached toward Cynthia.
Below me, Caitlin gasped. I couldn’t tell if it was in fear or wonder. Probably both.
Mimicking Cynthia’s gesture to him when he’d freed her, Brett placed his burning hands on either side of Cynthia’s face. Upon contact, the flames vanished, only to reappear in the palms of Cynthia’s outstretched hands.
The screaming was deafening.
Flinching at the sound, I raised my arms to cover my face, expecting a blow. When none came, I peered out from the crook of my elbow, then lowered my arms entirely.
Heat swathed my back.
I turned.
Each vampire had transformed into a writhing pillar of flames.
Across the room, the tapestry protecting Charity ignited.
Caitlin grasped my hand and pulled herself up, leaning her weight against me.
As we watched, the screaming died down, until the only sound was the crackling of the flames and the charring flesh. The bodies burned, blackening at first. Then chunks of flesh dropped from the vampires’ bones only to be fully consumed before they hit the floor. Gwala was burning at a slower pace, but even his flesh was nearly devoured. His skeletal ba
ck was arched in agony.
A motion caught my eye, and I looked toward the three vampires closest to me. Their bones cracked and shriveled until they looked like nothing more than old kindling, and I decided that was going to be the extent of their destruction. But then they began to crumble into a chalky white ash.
As the bones were consumed, I turned my attention back to Cynthia and Brett, still locked in their strange embrace. Gradually, the fire she held in her palms diminished, then flickered out in a wisp of smoke.
Her body went slack, and she crumpled into Brett’s arms. Holding her close, he turned around to survey the destruction, his expression morphing from wonder to fear.
Beside me, Caitlin called out and shoved me away—her force so strong she must have used her power.
It caught me off guard, and I stumbled and turned in time to see a blackened skeleton plunge its fist through her chest.
I was unable to make sense of what I was seeing. It was too fast. Too impossible.
The creature whipped its bony arm around, flinging Caitlin free from where she’d been impaled. The force of the motion sent her body skittering across the floor. The sound of her impact with the wall filled the space.
Before I could run to her, the skeleton had turned toward me. In a blur, it rushed, speared me through my shoulder, and impaled me against the opposite wall.
Even as my eyes met his, charred flesh began to form across the bones. In less than a second, Gwala’s features were already discernable. His fangs glinted as they snapped toward my face. “You will not die, warlock. I am going to torture you for eternity.”
From over Gwala’s shoulder, I saw Brett and Schwint coming toward us. The second Brett had taken to lay Cynthia on the ground allowed Schwint to arrive first.
For a second, the skinless mass that was Gwala rose into the air, causing his claws to twist painfully in my shoulder. With a surge of power, my body expelled his impaled fist, forcing Gwala backward.
