by Holly Evans
She smiled half-heartedly. "We're ok. The witches are very strong, we were up all night working through their defences. We did it, though. Once we've had some tea we'll draw the map and take those bitches down."
The Sidhe uttered some guttural noises, but they seemed alive enough; my concern was Elise.
She squeezed my hand and leaned back against the seat. "I don't know who those witches are, but we're going to remove them from our city. They're dark, Evie. I haven't felt anything like that before."
I stroked her hair and pulled her close. "I thought a witch was a witch."
She pulled back from me and squeezed my hand, her lips pulled into an amused smile. Her tone was that of a mother to a child.
"You always hid from the magical, Evie. You have such a bright mind." She sighed softly. "Witches are much like the fae, they're complicated. The witch we're up against is very old, and she's deviated from the usual path. I can't be sure, but I'd wager that she's responsible for the abominations. There's so much at stake here, Evie. We must stop her. Now."
Lysander came out with a tray full of cups, his mouth pinching as he watched the cups wobble. Slowly, he bent at the knee and offered Elise and me the cups. Elise's fingers ran over his before she took a cup and gestured for me to do the same. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards when the flare of jealously formed; she would never touch Lysander, but still the jealousy appeared. I scolded myself and focused instead on the gentle sway of his hips and that tight little ass as he took the tray to the Sidhe. Elise brightened and the Sidhe regained colour, just in time for Kadrix and Quin to arrive. Both had a little too much colour in their cheeks.
Kadrix tried to push Elise into giving us the information, to push on and attack the witches. I put myself between them and made it very clear that I'd remove something very precious from him if he pushed Elise again. Neither he or the Sidhe acknowledged each other. The tension in the room mounted, but it soon dissipated when Elise took a deep breath and began drawing a map.
"These are not the core witches. They do, however, have strong connections to them, and they are the ones that have been sending the assassins. We couldn't reach the leader, but these will get us what we require."
Azfin scooted up next to Elise and took the pen from her when she paused, her eyebrows knitted. His movements were graceful, sweeping across the page with crisp black lines. I knew exactly where the witches were. The map was rudimentary, but I knew the familiar sweep of the road and the relation to the patch of grass they called a park. My hands ran down over my blades; I was ready.
Lysander's hand ran down my back. "Relax, Evelyn, we'll do this together."
Elise stood, her back straight, determination etched on her face. "Lysander is right, Evelyn. I will tidy myself up while Kadrix gives you alchemical aids, then we will go to the witches. Together."
I grinned at her; I'd been itching to have a good fight, and I hadn't even realised it. I reminded myself that I'd taken on zombies and witches hours previously. Still, it was coming to an end. The city would be free, and we'd be able to return to our normal lives once more, to fret over nothing more serious than a group of redcaps or a rogue lycan. The room came alive with enthusiasm, with eager aggression desperate to be vented. The Sidhe licked their lips and exchanged glances while Quin kept shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Kadrix put his shoulders back and held out a small bag for me.
“A gift,” he said quietly.
I took it suspiciously. Elves didn't do gifts. They did exchanges, something in return for a sacrifice. I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to assess what I could have been missing.
He sighed melodramatically, "Well, if you don't want it..."
"I don't know what it is," I replied.
Quin rolled his eyes at me. "It's a protection amulet, Evie. Kadrix and I thought it would be a nice gift. Something to smooth out any tension between us."
I smiled and relaxed, opening the bag to reveal a simple black oval stone on a silver chain. Lysander retrieved it before I could and moved behind me to put the necklace on. A sense of peace descended over me; I could almost feel the faint vibration of the protections.
"Thank you. Both of you," I said to Quin and Kadrix.
Something remained in the bottom of the bag. A small jade green charm.
Kadrix huffed, "You really are dim sometimes, Evelyn. The charm is for your hound, you foolish girl."
I glared at him. Lysander, however, bowed his head a little and thanked them both before exposing his throat to me. The Sidhe watched with curiosity as I fiddled with the silver collar about Lysander's throat, trying to attach the charm. It was a delicate little affair, but it settled in the dip at the centre of his collarbone. The stone shimmered slightly and brought out the bright blue of his eyes; his mouth flickered with a smile. The moment was shattered by Haeyl clearing his throat. Lysander shot him a dark look, but Elise emerged with her hair pinned back, in a form-fitting leather jacket and tight jeans. A look of grim determination sat on her face. We were ready.
She moved to the middle of the group and opened her arms as though addressing her army.
"This will not be an easy fight. These witches are from old bloodlines, they are fearless, and talented. Do not let them fool you. This is no ordinary fight, this is war. Are you ready to take our city back?"
We all shouted, "Yes!"
Surprisingly, the Sidhe had decided to accompany us on our visit to the witches; they'd said something about it being their city, too. Tension was high. Kadrix snapped at a poor mundane who accidentally bumped against him, while Haeyl snapped at some unsuspecting lycan that dared get on the same tram-carriage as him. Lysander, on the other hand, positively oozed serenity. He was calm and peaceful. When I asked him, he simply said that he was in his element; he was a war-dog. I revelled in his calm and embraced it, using it to calm and centre myself so I didn't waste any energy before the fight. We walked under the great iron bridge that never failed to draw my eye and form a smile on my face, and strode alongside the river before we ducked left and reached our destination.
The imposing stone building stood apart from the more modern counterparts that butted up against it. The dull grey gave away the age and original military purpose; how fitting for a witch headquarters. Elise took point. Her small fist pounded on the stained-wood door. I wasn't sure why we were requesting entrance. We should have burst in, no questions asked. Azfin clearly thought the same as me when he gently pushed Elise to one side before he kicked the door in. We crowded into the narrow hallway behind him and bustled forwards until it opened out into a large room, with plain white painted walls and double-height ceilings. It wasn't the ceilings that caught my attention, though; that belonged to the 7-foot-tall, slate-grey-skinned demon, complete with black horns that curled back over his head.
Lysander snarled, fire erupted up over his hands and descended down his spine much like hackles on a normal dog. Elise held up her hand and demanded silence. None of the witches in the room acknowledged our existence; the demon stared down a tall model-esque woman in black robes.
"Why has Zarle not opened the mouth yet?"
The voice of the demon seemed to rumble deep within my head rather than echo around the room. Lysander's lips pulled back revealing sharp pointed teeth. Elise shot him a warning look before he set on fire again.
The witch sniffed and crossed her arms before she snapped, "Your hound was foolish and unable to complete the rituals."
Imps appeared out of thin air. Small, vicious-looking little creatures with deep red skin and long black claws, their violet eyes shone with malice. They barely reached the hip on some of the taller women, but their lack of size was only made up by their savageness. I despised imps. The demon ground his teeth while the witches began looking around them at their new companions; fear rippled through the room. Everything happened at once.
The demon made some small motion with his hand. The imps leapt on the whatever was closest to them. Screams c
ut through the air. It was bedlam.
Elise shouted, “Save the witches. Kill the imps. Banish the demon. If we remove the demon, the power he provides the witches will be removed. He is unbalancing this city."
Our leader had spoken.
I had no idea how I was supposed to banish a demon, so I focused on what I could do. The Sidhe plunged into the chaos with Kadrix hot on their heels. Lysander's fire licked at the periphery of my vision as I kicked an imp in the face. It sank its teeth into my boot and clung on like a rabid terrier while one of its comrades tried to rake its claws down my legs. They fought like vicious little beasts, sinking their teeth into the closest soft spot they could. They tried to slow their targets down by taking out the calves and legs; if they could reach the abdomen then they’d gut you without a second thought. The one attached to my boot screeched when its claws wouldn't penetrate my jeans. I muttered a thanks to Kadrix while I slashed its scrawny little neck. They all looked the same. It was as though the infernal realm had taken one twisted little malformed demon and cloned it. The original imp that remained latched onto my boot finally let go long enough for me to stamp on its head, the wet crunch incredibly satisfying. A glance around the room dampened the moment of happiness. The witches were being slaughtered, and Kadrix went flying across the room courtesy of the demon.
The witches were fighting as hard as they could, but they were outnumbered and out-classed. A number of witches had rooted themselves in the corners where they stood with glassy eyes and their hands weaving spells of some form or another. Curses flew around the room, bright coloured balls that collided with imps and bounced off the demon. Sidhe magic formed shocks of bright light and intricate patterns flared on the walls, before blood splattered them and someone gargled a painful death.
The air was filled with the cacophony of people being slaughtered. Imps threw themselves at the witches. Those that tried to keep moving, ducking and weaving while still throwing spells, found themselves with imps hanging off their throats and sinking their claws into their stomachs. The imps works in pairs and small groups. I had to keep moving so that they couldn’t surround me. One tried to circle around behind me and attack the backs of my knees. The other two lowered their bodies and bent their legs, ready to pounce on my stomach or neck. I side-stepped at the last second and hacked at them in mid-air. They screeched and collapsed to the floor, where I stamped on the back of their necks. The third was soon joined by a fresh pair, and it began again. We danced around each other. I pushed forward trying to slash their throats, but their lack of height gave them an advantage. I couldn’t afford to lean down to reach them, thus throwing off my balance and exposing my own throat.
Fire arced over my head and engulfed an imp. Its features contorted with confusion before it ran straight into a wall and wailed. A deep rumbling filled the air. The floor vibrated, sending rivulets of blood running towards the once white baseboards. The demon roared over feminine chanting. I looked around trying to see what had changed, what was going on. Elise was stood in the middle of the fray, white threads extended from her hands to the demon who was roaring and snarling. Her eyes were glassy, her body motionless, but she chanted. The tempo of her words increased along with the number of white threads around the demon. Suddenly they burned with a burning bright white light. Everything went deathly silent. I looked around the room frantically. Elise had done it. The demon was gone.
Elise collapsed on the body of a broken and mutilated witch. I jumped over two more bodies and side-stepped around a third to kneel in the blood of another and check on her. Her breathing was shallow, her eyelids fluttered, but she smiled.
“We did it," she whispered.
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and surveyed the room. It wasn't the success that I had in mind. Lumpy black robes lay sprawled over the floor in pools of sticky blood. More blood splattered the white walls, entrails smeared the floor and clung limply to the far corner. Quin was bent over a witch on the other side of the room; Kadrix shook another next to her. The Sidhe leant against the door, trying to catch their breath. A large black scorch mark marred the floor where I’d last seen the demon. The imps had all vanished.
Elise stood, and her breathing settled. “We need to question the survivors."
I'd almost forgotten the reason we were there in the first place. Lysander hauled one sad excuse of a survivor to her feet. She swayed and wobbled, her eyes barely open, blood trickling from her mouth that hung open.
The hound growled at her, “Tell us where the hound is."
She coughed, blood sprayed over Lysander's jacket, much to his disdain. His hand clenched at the back of her robes, he glanced to the far wall, his arm tensing in preparation to throw her.
Instead, he put his face directly in front of hers. "Where. Is. The. Hound?"
Her mouth spread in a manic grin, her eyes rolled back in head. She laughed, then went limp. Lysander threw her unconscious body against the wall. Kadrix snarled at the witch near him as she died. Elise's head drooped. There were no more survivors. We had nothing.
"There's only one ritual left," Elise snapped.
I didn't think I'd ever heard Elise snap. She was the epitome of calm and control.
"You think we don't fucking realise that?" Quin shouted back.
Elise spread her arms wide and gestured over the mass of bodies before us.
"And what are we supposed to do now?" she snarled.
Her dark gaze fell on Lysander. I glared at her. He was my hound. Kadrix picked his through the blood and guts, a distinct look of disdain on his blood-splattered face.
"We have witch blood. We have a hellhound. We can use those to find the other hound."
Elise took a long deep breath and smiled. "Yes, of course. Lysander, how long do we have now?"
"Two nights,” he said.
She gave a small nod and chewed on her bottom lip. "Kadrix, I trust you to put together what you need. I will return immediately to my church and speak to my lady. Perhaps she has some useful insight."
"Don't worry, Lysander and I will fuck off home, out of the way," I said with a wave of my hand.
I left with Lysander close at my back before anyone could say anything. It had been made quite clear what our place was in the scheme of things, and I was in no mood to bow and scrape trying to help that elf.
"Evie," Elise called out after me.
I ignored her. There was one ritual between us and Hell on Earth. Quite literal Hell on Earth. And we had to depend on the elf and another one of his trackers, in the hopes that we'd be able to find the hound and stop the ritual in time. We were grasping at straws and we all knew it. I kicked a small stone into the river. I felt helpless. Everything was going on around me, the fate of the city was hanging in the balance, and once more I had to wait on the cursed fucking alchemist to put something together.
I ground my teeth and said as calmly as I could muster, "Did you not give Elise a location for the last ritual already?"
He sighed and hung his head. "There are three options. We don't have enough people to cover all three. I'm sorry, mistress."
I sat and dangled my legs over the edge of the wall, gazing out over the river at the lights of the city. The currents swirled beneath my feet, the water lazily meandering down towards the ocean some hundreds of miles away. Clouds covered the night sky, hiding the calm influence of the stars. The air remained cool and fresh; there'd be no rain that night. Lysander sat next to me and leant his head on top of mine.
"I don't want to lose this,” he said quietly.
I wasn't entirely sure what he meant: the city, the bond we had, or something else. I remained silent, my thoughts jagged and savage, pulling up my insecurities and frustrations. I should have done so many things differently. My fear and closed-mindedness had made the situation worse. If I’d have studied magic like Quin, if I'd have tried harder to make more friends and allies in the city, if I'd have found a way to keep Serena alive. I sighed and buried my face in my hands. The cit
y was on the brink of destruction, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Time became non-existent. I could have been there for minutes or hours. Quin sat next to me. I looked around for Kadrix and was surprised to find him missing. They'd been joined at the hip; I was worried something had happened.
"I'm sorry for how things have been, Evie," Quin said.
I shrugged. I was in no mood for a conversation. I wanted action.
"Kadrix is making good progress on the tracker. Azfin and Haeyl were helping, and Elise said her lady has offered her reassurance."
I took a long deep breath and allowed myself to calm.
"That sounds good," I said noncommittally.
"Come on. We need food and sleep. It's going to be a big day tomorrow."
I frowned looking at him, "I thought the ritual couldn't occur for another two nights?"
He glanced at Lysander. "There's an astronomical event that we may have forgotten about."
Of course there was. It wasn't his fault, and I still wasn't sure what Lysander knew about our plane, our world. I couldn't blame him. We returned home. The darkness sat particularly heavily, draping itself over the city like a thick cloak shrouding it from what was to come. I couldn't help but peek at the windows we passed and wonder what it must have been like for the mundanes. Bright lights flickered from their TVs, silhouettes laughed and moved from room to room. They were entirely oblivious to what was going on. Even with the events of the previous days, they had their ignorance to protect them. Sometimes, I lay awake and wished that I was like them. That my greatest fear was losing my boring office job. That I could go out on a Friday night with friends and giggle about inane gossip and the latest TV show. Lysander pulled me close to him.
He whispered, "You'd hate it."
I couldn't help but smile. As much as I hated the idea of him being in my mind, I knew he was right. I'd be bored out of my mind within hours. I lived for the fight. For the thrill of the moment, for that look in their eye when they knew that they were being bested by a mere human. I'd miss the adrenaline rush and the weight of my blades in my hands. I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of hot metal and petrichor. I'd miss him.