Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. If things get really messy, I’ll have to rely on the magic of my extra soul. Granted, the Brotherhood had taught her to fight without magic—to use the environment around her as her tools instead of spells and auras—but she was quickly coming to understand that rocks and broken bottles were poor weapons in a demon war.
If things got really messy, she might need the nuclear option: Cleo.
Pumping her arms, she picked up her pace. She had no clue what she was heading toward, but she was nearly certain Miranda was part of it. I just have no idea what role she’s playing in this battle. If she had to guess, her twin sister had become a pawn of the Brotherhood.
Her feet hammered the pavement, and she gasped as a wave of cold, nocturnal power slammed into her—silver, just like Caine’s. He’s nearby.
Her breath was ragged in her lungs as they rounded the corner and came into Harvard Square.
The scene before her was chaos. The first thing she saw was the car accident. An SUV had plowed into a Porsche, and the sports car’s driver lay slumped over the wheel, forehead bleeding. A few people ran into the road, eyes wide.
The next thing she noticed was the street performer dressed as a mime, standing still on a platform, his body trembling as he gripped two flaming sticks. He wasn’t looking at the accident. He was staring up at the sky, eyes bulging.
He unleashed a horrified scream.
Rosalind followed his gaze, and a wave of cold fear washed over her.
A swarm of demons flew above, with eyes the color of starlight and flowing white hair to match. They wore ragged black dresses that fluttered in the wind as they wove and darted like birds of prey. Panic tightened around her heart. It looked like something from an apocalyptic painting, and a demon horde like this meant only one thing: a lot of people were about to die.
A driver leaned on his horn, desperate to flee the intersection, but the accident blocked his path. All around, pedestrians were running, screams piercing the air.
A middle-aged woman stepped from the damaged SUV, her eyes wide. “What are those things?” she shrieked.
As Rosalind looked up again at the black-winged creatures circling the air above them, the air left her lungs. So many different shades of magic whirled around them, a type of power she’d never seen before. They beat their wings, weaving through the sky, crowded so thick and vast they blocked the moonlight.
By their starlit eyes and white hair, she was pretty sure she knew what they were, even before Orcus spoke. Night demons.
“Keres,” Orcus said, as if hearing her thoughts. “Nyxobas’s creatures. What are they doing here, by the Chambers? We’re only a hundred feet from the Brotherhood’s headquarters. Keres don’t normally venture out of their caves unless cloaked in shadows.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s probably an attack on the Brotherhood.”
Swooping lower, a female ker smiled, her long teeth glinting in the moonlight. Rosalind’s mouth went dry. Despite her beautiful face, her skin the color of pearls, the ker oozed pure menace—and she looked hungry.
Rosalind stepped closer to Orcus. “I don’t understand what’s happening. There’s so much magic around the keres. There’s coppery mountain magic, Miranda’s sea magic… all kinds of auras.”
“Someone must be fighting them. It’s not working very well. They must have some sort of shield around them.”
She narrowed her eyes, looking for signs of weakness. A few keres seemed to shudder, their wings drooping and heads lolling, and they fell from the skies. Someone was fighting them, but the counterattack wasn’t having much of an effect on the swarm as a whole.
Her gaze darted to a black bird flying among the keres—a raven, darting between the demons. Caine’s familiar. Her chest tightened. “Caine is definitely here. And I want to find him.”
“I thought he was in Lilinor,” Orcus growled. “You’re sure it’s him?”
Gleaming silver magic curled all around her and she breathed deeply, inhaling a fresh scent like damp earth after a rainstorm. “It’s definitely him. I just have no idea where he is, or what he’s doing.” She glanced at the sky again, watching as some of the keres burst into flames, their wings burning bright against the night sky.
But for each falling ker, there was another to take its place.
Her pulse raced as she scanned the chaotic scene. Police sirens wailed in the distance, and streams of people scrambled across Harvard Square, trying to get away from the cloud of keres. The air was definitely thick with menace, just as Drew had said. And in this case, “menace” meant terrifying, sharp-toothed demonesses.
A shiver crawled over Rosalind’s skin. She could tell by the keres’ snarling faces that they had their gazes set on distinctly human meals. And human fear only excited their bloodlust. The only reason the creatures weren’t leering hungrily at her was that they couldn’t see her.
But where was Miranda in all this? Rosalind could only hope that Tammi was truly safe, just as Orcus and Caine had said. Rosalind had a nuclear option—but Tammi had nothing.
Around her, the magical auras intensified, streaming into people’s bodies. Tendrils of magic curled into Rosalind, vibrating through her ribs. Her stomach churned, and her muscles seized up one by one as her body petrified. The keres’ magic transfixed her. If she wanted to rip her ring off now to unleash her own magic, she’d waited too long.
We’re trapped like prey.
Locked in place, she stared in mute horror as a ker winged lower. The demon plunged toward a beautiful blond girl in a floral dress, whose entire body shook. The girl was trying to call for help, but her mouth was frozen, and she could only unleash a garbled scream. She looked like the picture of innocence, a hunted rabbit about to be slaughtered.
The ker dove lower, and the girl’s blue eyes went wide as the ker sank its teeth into her neck. Blood streamed from her veins.
Rosalind’s throat tightened. They’re going to kill us all.
Chapter 4
A s she watched the ker tear into the blonde girl’s neck, rage flashed in the hollows of Rosalind’s mind—a cold anger, furious as storm clouds. I’m not going down without a fight.
When Caine had taken her into the woods to train with her, she’d gained a fraction of control in forcing the magic from her body. He’d told her to condense the aura into a ball, something she could manipulate.
She clamped her eyes shut, letting herself focus on the whorls of magic in her body. I just need to concentrate. Her ability to sense magic was her greatest asset—if she could see it, she could mold it. As her pulse raced, she tried not to listen to the agonized screams around her.
She cleared her mind of all distracting thoughts, imagining the streams of shadow magic and light magic condensing into tighter rings, like a solar system whirling into a black hole. As the magic grew tighter, her dizziness began to subside. When she’d pushed the auras into a tiny point deep within her chest, she tried moving her hand. With effort, she felt her fingers tighten and relax.
A man’s scream nearly ripped her attention away; for a second the tendrils expanded again in her mind. Focus, Rosalind. Condense the magic, just like Caine said.
Slowly, she envisioned the colorful wisps swirling tighter, and when she’d tightened them into a tiny marble of light, she wiggled her fingers.
Free.
She opened her eyes, and horror washed over her. The blond girl lay sprawled on the ground, her throat ripped open by the ker. A pool of blood stained her curls, and her blue eyes gaped lifelessly at the demon-filled sky. Around the girl, three more half-eaten humans lay discarded on the pavement.
Rosalind’s heart thrummed. She couldn’t break her focus. I need to keep control if I’m going to get out of here alive. Any minute now, the invisibility spell would wear off.
Another ker descended, winging for a middle-aged man. The demon slammed into her victim, gripping his arm and sinking her teeth into it. Ignoring the man’s agonized scream
s, the ker pushed him to the ground, taking a bite of his cheek.
Rosalind’s legs began to shake; her knees threatened to give way. The demoness wasn’t going to kill her prey fast—she was going to slowly eat him alive.
I can’t watch this.
Maybe now was a good time for the nuclear option—except that Orcus said they were shielded.
Her pulse racing, Rosalind scanned her surroundings, desperate for a weapon, until her gaze landed on the juggler’s discarded sticks. They still blazed. Pretty sure you can kill a shadow demon with fire.
“Orcus,” she shouted. “I have to do something.”
He spoke from her right. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m trying to use my magic, but it’s not working…” His voice trailed off.
She ran for the flaming sticks, snatching one from the ground. She turned, her gaze fixed on the ker, who was tearing the flesh from the man’s calf.
Rosalind closed the distance between them, and touched her flaming stick to the demoness’s white tresses. The creature’s hair ignited, and she roared—a deafening, inhuman scream—and dropped her victim. Flames spread over the ker’s body, and her head swiveled around as she searched for her attacker. She staggered back from her victim, screeching wildly.
Rosalind’s pulse raced uncontrollably, but the demon didn’t seem to see her. Still invisible, then. But that won’t last forever.
She looked around, trying to get a glimpse of Orcus’s aura again. But before she could, another ker plunged down to the earth, claws outstretched as she dove straight for a young man. The creature grabbed her prey by the shirt collar. Rosalind ran to them, but before she could get there the demon carried him off the ground, black wings beating the air.
Rosalind’s mouth went dry. What are they doing now?
When the ker had dragged him high over Harvard Square’s rooftops, so high that the ker’s could be mistaken for a raven, the demoness simply let go. Rosalind stared in open-mouthed horror as the young man plummeted down.
At the man’s screams, Rosalind’s stomach tightened.
He hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Don’t look at his body. She had enough fuel for her nightmares already.
More keres followed suit, diving down to snatch humans from the earth.
Horror crawled over Rosalind’s skin. Please, gods, don’t let Miranda be involved in this slaughter.
She couldn’t fight the nausea anymore. She hunched over and vomited up the coffee she’d been drinking all day. She wiped a shaking hand across the back of her mouth. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.
In the distance, helicopter rotors thrummed. The Brotherhood. Am I actually happy Hunters are coming this way?
“Rosalind!” Orcus bellowed.
She turned to look at him as his body shimmered into view. She glanced down at her own translucent body, her heart racing wildly. “We’re becoming visible again,” she shouted. “The keres will be able to see us. And the Hunters are coming. We should get out of their line of vision. I have no idea where Miranda is.” She couldn’t feel her sister’s magic anymore. The helicopter blades beat louder; white searchlights danced over the swarm of attacking keres. “We need to get out of here.”
The reaper’s dark eyes glistened and he scanned the air, forehead crinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand why the keres are attacking here. And I don’t understand why my magic had no effect on them.” He held out his long, spindly fingers, and a long black scythe appeared in his grasp. “Something very strange is going on.”
“Okay, but we need to take shelter before the Brotherhood start shooting.” Another body slammed to the ground next to her. Her chest clenched. This was horrifying.
“What would block my magic against other shadow demons?” Orcus asked, still staring at the sky.
Rosalind’s blood roared in her ears, and she gripped the reaper’s arm. They had two threats now: the keres and the Brotherhood’s Hunters. If she knew anything about the Brotherhood, they were about to unleash a storm of gunfire at any minute.
She pointed to the SUV. “We’re going to hide under the car. If we don’t, we’re going to die.”
Orcus continued to gape at the sky. “What color did you say their auras were?”
“Orcus!” she yelled, frantically tugging on his arm. “We need to get out of the way. The Brotherhood’s weapons are designed to kill mortal de—”
Bullets whizzed past, and she dove under the SUV. Bullets shattered its windows, and shards of glass rained around her. She covered her head with her arms.
When she lifted her eyes again, her gaze landed on the grim reaper, and horror turned her stomach. Two bullets had pierced his forehead, and dark blood oozed from the wounds. Those would be the iron-lined hawthorn bullets, designed precisely to kill demons like Orcus.
Ice slid over her skin. He’d be in the shadow hell now.
Why didn’t he listen to me?
Her breath came in short, sharp bursts, and from under the SUV she heard the whirr of motors. This was not a good time for a notorious “witch”—an enemy of the state—to be hanging around here.
Heart thumping, she crawled closer to the edge of the SUV, catching a glimpse of armored vehicles rolling into Harvard Square. Adrenaline flooded her veins. Any minute now, armed soldiers would be pouring from those cars, ready to kill anything that looked magical.
Another volley of bullets ripped through the air, and she watched as a few ker bodies slammed to the ground, screeching.
She swallowed hard. Where do I run to? A month ago, her safe haven would have been the Chambers. Not anymore. Now the Hunters in the Chambers would burn her on sight.
She could run back to Abduxiel Mansion, but Orcus had said she’d be locked out. Still, she had to get out of here, fast. Maybe she could hide in the shadows by the mansion until she found Caine.
She could hear the helicopters moving further into Harvard Square, taking their gunfire with them. Now or never.
She shuffled forward, inching out from under the SUV. With shaking legs, she pushed herself up. Searchlights danced around her, and the sky still swarmed with keres. From here, the heavens seemed to convulse like a living thing.
She cast one last glance at Orcus’s body, then launched into a sprint down Brattle Street.
As her feet pounded the bricks, she put as much distance as she could between herself and Harvard Square. She’d just managed to get out of range of the ker swarm when the sound of a motor caught her attention. It sounded like one of the Brotherhood’s armored vehicles, but she didn’t want to turn her head. She kept her eyes forward, hoping to go unnoticed, and sprinted onward.
“Rosalind!” a deep voice called out. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
She whirled, her gaze landing on a Brotherhood soldier. Her blood roared in her ears. A bright white light from an armored vehicle glared, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust.
When they did, she nearly turned and ran again.
She knew this Hunter by his shaved head and ruddy cheeks. It was Dave, a novice asshole from her training year. And he had a Glock trained right on her.
She froze, raising her hands and glaring at him. Out of everyone she knew in the Brotherhood, he was the last person she’d want to arrest her—well, second to last, after Randolph Loring. Dave’s handsy wrestling techniques when he trained with the women had led Rosalind to dub him Sweaty-Hands Dave. But it hadn’t been a joke to him. When he’d lost to her in round after round, she hadn’t failed to notice the rage burning in his eyes.
“Well, well,” he said. “I’ve been hoping to find you.” He stalked closer, gripping his gun. “Put your hands behind your head, and lie on the ground.”
“Dave. How nice to see you.” There’s no way I’m lying on the ground for this pervert. Wind from the helicopters beating overhead rushed over her skin.
He paced closer, gripping his gun harder. “You’re quite the target, witch. Randolph Loring is very eage
r to get you back in his cells. And I’m going to bring you there.” His nostrils flared; his cheeks reddened. His disgust was palpable, and she knew exactly what a guy like him wanted: pure dominance.
Chapter 5
Rosalind stared at Dave. With Josiah, she’d been able to use his rage against him, to cloud his judgment. She had a feeling Sweaty-Hands was no different.
And I think I know exactly how to push his buttons. “Hiding behind a gun? I’m just a little concerned it might slip out of your sweaty hands, and you could injure yourself. Think about how sad the world’s women would be if you accidentally shot your dick off.”
“I said lie on the ground!” he shouted, stepping closer.
He wanted to get up close and personal, probably kneel on her back and force the gun up against her head. He was one of those guys.
Her heart raced as he took another step.
“Why don’t you come over here,” she said, “and show me what you want me to do.”
He took another step.
When his Glock was less than a foot from her head, she slammed it out of the way with her left hand, punching him hard in the jaw with her right. As he took the blow, she kneed him in the groin.
He doubled over, loosening his grip, and she ripped the gun from his grasp, turning it on him.
Rubbing his jaw, he gaped at her. “You used your magic…”
“I didn’t use any magic. You’re just terrible at everything.” Her eyes flicked to the sky. No helicopters.
She cocked the gun. She didn’t want to kill the guy, but if she didn’t disable him, he’d just come after her.
Her gut clenching, she pointed her gun at one of his feet. “Sorry about this.” She pulled the trigger, and blood burst from his foot.
His screams pierced the night sky, and she wasn’t waiting around any longer. She tucked the gun into the back of her pants and broke into a sprint along Brattle Street.
Rotors beat the sky overhead, whipping her hair around her face, and another searchlight swerved over the road. She could only hope that there was enough chaos going on that no one would notice Sweaty-Hands Dave and his shattered foot.
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