Sebastian’s gaze snapped back to Morgan, and he saw that her eyes were squeezed shut and her posture was rigid, as if she were fighting to maintain control. He didn’t know the details of how spells worked, but he did know it took incredible concentration and willpower. Lily had warned him often enough not to interrupt or distract her while she was casting, and he couldn’t imagine how Morgan was maintaining control over more than twelve people and holding the building energy of her spell in place while her minions dealt with the threat. It seemed impossible. Yet there she was.
The demon had been right. Together, they were unstoppable.
Suddenly two figures emerged from the shelves, the taller of the two dragging a third who flopped and stumbled like a drunk. The cloth that had concealed her face was now loose and dangling, and Sebastian bit his lip hard to keep from calling out Mallory’s name. What had they done to her? Was it John Faust’s strange compelling spell? Or just Morgan’s influence?
On Morgan’s orders, the witch came to a stop near the edge of the circle, holding Mallory up by the back of her shirt. John Faust, however, she summoned to her side to stand guard. The wizard picked his way carefully along what seemed like a set route through the maze of silver and red, as if there was only one safe path between the runes that almost seemed to crackle with energy. He stopped behind and to the side of his Queen, a watchful sentinel. Sebastian noticed a dagger in each of his hands, their black metal blades glinting dully from Morgan’s glow. John Faust must have taken the weapons from Mallory when he disarmed her.
As if she could wait no longer, words burst from Morgan again, quick and harsh, a grating counterpoint to the lyrical and flowing Enkinim she had been using before. Her hands dropped to reach out toward the summoning circle closest to her, where a male witch and wizard stood, and the blood-red lines about their feet began to glow in answer to her command. They blazed to life as if burning with fire from below, and among the horrible sounds coming from her mouth, Sebastian recognized a demon’s name.
In a sequence so quick he barely had time to register what he saw, the ghost of a monstrous shape materialized within the circle, grabbed at the witch and wizard with clawed hands of smoldering brimstone, then winked out of existence again. In the next second, Sebastian’s brain processed what the ghostlike demon had grabbed: not physical bodies, but something much more insubstantial. Had that demon just torn the very souls from those two men? In the blink of a moment it had been visible, it had shoved the whatever-it-was from the witch into its maw, consuming it, but clutched the wizard’s...thing to its chest as if to keep it from escaping.
The witch and wizard, who had spasmed and arched back in silent screams at the demon’s attack, now dropped motionless to the floor like two puppets whose strings had been cut.
Not a single person in the room moved. Not a soul screamed in horror or cried out in protest—not even Sebastian, who was still too stunned by what he’d seen. All the wizards and witches trapped under Morgan’s influence stood motionless and silent, awaiting their doom with blank faces.
Then Morgan began her chant again, arms now pointing to the next summoning circle, and the harsh sound jolted Sebastian out of his daze. He knew he could wait no longer. Lily or no Lily, he had to act.
Releasing Lily’s hand, he tugged off his family ward ring, grabbed one of Richard’s hands, and shoved the ring roughly onto the mundane’s finger. “Take care of her,” he said, not looking at the man. Then he took Lily’s hand in his again and paused for an endless moment, wishing desperately that he could feel her soft fingers on his cheek and kiss her palm. Since he could not, he spoke the words he’d long kept locked away behind impenetrable walls of fear and pain, words he wished he’d been brave enough to say before now.
“I—I love you, Lily.”
He stared at her face, desperate for her eyes to open and see him, know him, want him. His heart leapt when he thought he felt her fingers flex weakly in response. But as he lingered, waiting with bated breath, there was no more movement, not even a flicker behind her eyelids.
After one last tender squeeze of her hand, Sebastian tore himself away and burst out of his cage, sprinting for Morgan. He had nothing, absolutely nothing on his side. No allies, no powers, no witchy tricks or even mundane weapons. He was empty-handed and alone, pitting himself against his worst nightmare. But he had his shield of truth, his armor of stubbornness, and his sword of reckless stupidity, so he charged anyway. He meant to tackle Morgan to the ground and pummel her in hopes that it would break her concentration and give everyone a chance to break free and fight back. Morgan would surely kill him for it, but it would be worth it.
For Lily.
Five paces from the edge of the silver circle, his eyes registered movement in front of him. Four paces away, he realized it was John Faust, stepping toward Morgan. At three paces he saw black metal flash and a blood-curdling scream burst from Morgan’s throat.
Then the world exploded.
Magic erupted outward in a massive wave of energy and light that outlined the shape of a giant bubble—the containment circle’s shield spell, he guessed—that held for an endless heartbeat before bursting into a thousand sparkling points of light. The blast threw Sebastian off his feet and made the rows upon rows of shelves shudder, sending a myriad of boxes, crates, and books tumbling to the ground.
Dazed and ears ringing with the sudden silence, Sebastian groaned. A spot of piercing heat was burning into his chest and he swiped blindly at it, trying to get it off. Unable to rid himself of whatever it was against his skin, he belatedly realized it was underneath his sweatshirt, and he dug with frantic fingers until he’d pulled out and tossed away each crumbling piece of the ward pendant Aunt B had given him to wear around his neck. He’d forgotten it was even there. It hadn’t stopped him from being thrown, but it had probably saved his insides from being pulverized into oatmeal by the magical blast. His thoughts briefly flitted to his friends, but all the wizards would have been wearing their own personal wards; Mallory had a pendant from Aunt B identical to his; and he’d lent his ward ring to Richard.
The warehouse was dark again save for the red glow of the summoning circles, and all around him he heard moans and the shuffle of people picking themselves up from the ground. Near at hand a large shape lay motionless. From the way his dark skin glowed in the red light, Sebastian knew it was the big, tattooed witch. So where was Mallory?
Stumbling footsteps sounded nearby. When he looked up he could barely make out a stooped figure running away into the rows of shelves and quickly followed by a smaller, but much more swift figure. His eyes only tracked them for a few seconds, however, because at that moment a strained, panting voice spoke harsh words that meant only one thing: more trouble was coming.
That trouble erupted from a crimson rift which suddenly split open in the middle of the room and spat out a towering, scaled beast with top-heavy shoulders, huge arms, and a thick tail to balance it as it stood tall on two clawed feet.
“You again? Seriously? This can’t be happening,” Sebastian said, every cell in his body protesting as he rolled stiffly to his feet. He ached in places he hadn’t realized he possessed and there was a knot as big as an egg forming on the back of his head.
The greater demon roared its challenge—delighted, no doubt, for a rematch after its brief and unsatisfying foray into the human realm the previous summer. It stood over Morgan, who lay propped up on one arm, her hair disheveled and her face twisted in a snarl of incandescent rage and pain. Her black raiment was too dark to show her injuries, but they were probably severe judging by the large smears of blood around her on the floor that reflected the burning glow of her demon slave.
Barely twenty seconds had passed since the magical blast, and by that point all who had survived it were on their feet again, backing frantically away from the demon. Several voices cried out in Enkinim, and with a brilliant flash of white, light spells blossomed into life above everyone’s head, showing the battlefield and
revealing Aunt B, Mrs. Singer, and the three remaining wizards. Instead of moving to surround the demon, they had gathered in a protective ring around his aunt, who looked to be limping badly. There was a bare moment of calm as the combatants sized each other up, demon versus wizards, no doubt calculating avenues of attack—or maybe deciding which puny mortal to eat first.
Then the demon roared in challenge and lurched toward the wizards.
“Hold on, Ethel, I’m coming!”
“Lily, no! Get back here!”
Sebastian’s head whipped around just in time to see Lily—glorious, beautiful, miraculously awake Lily—dashing heedlessly toward her friends, Sir Kipling charging ahead of her and Richard hot on her heels.
She didn’t even look at you. She doesn’t love you, she loves Richard. If she really loved you, you would be the one at her side right now, not him.
Jealous rage bloomed in his heart, but this time, his head knew better. So instead of letting his mind run down that path, he chose to have faith in the truth: Lily loved him. She’d said it, and his truth coin had attested to it. And that was enough.
Seeing Lily dash off into battle had every instinct in him demanding he follow her, protect her, get her away to safety. But he knew she could take care of herself better than he could—in his current state, anyway. He needed to figure out how to help her, not hinder her. There was no tablet of unimaginable power for her to banish the demon back to hell with this time. So what could they do?
Glancing around, Sebastian spotted Mallory’s compact black backpack lying on the ground next to the big witch. They must have torn it off her when they’d dragged her out from the shelves and disarmed her. He dove for it and stuffed his hand inside, searching for a familiar shape.
Lily’s cry tore his attention away, but he realized she was just shouting spells, throwing all she had at the demon as she rushed it from the side. It stopped, distracted from its other targets, and Sir Kipling took the opportunity to dart into the circle of wizards and press against Aunt B’s leg—as if by mere physical contact he could help bolster the old woman. Apparently he could do just that, because Aunt B stood straighter and raised her hands. She called out instructions to the rest of the group as they coordinated their own attack, confusing the demon, who had swung its horned head toward Lily.
Sebastian’s fingers found the cylindrical shape he’d been looking for just as his eyes flicked back to the center of the circle, where he noticed a growing pulse of energy. Morgan, prone and bleeding though she was, seemed by no means out of the fight. Whatever spell she was cooking up might prove disastrous, and suddenly Sebastian knew what he needed to do. He ran through some quick mental calculations while he judged the distance between Morgan, who was closest to him, and the demon, who was on her far side but still between him and his embattled friends.
Withdrawing his hand from the bag and pushing himself up in one smooth motion, he yelled at the top of his lungs. “EVERYBODY DUCK!” Then, he pulled the pins from two of Mallory’s iron salt grenades, cocked his arm, and lobbed them straight at Morgan’s head.
The flash and bang were not nearly as powerful as the magical explosion that had sent him flying earlier, but they were enough to set his ears ringing. Crouched with his eyes closed and back hunched, he felt innumerable sharp pricks score across his skin as if he’d just been blasted with supersonic sand. Even as he endured the barrage, there was a furious roar from across the room. Sebastian hoped that iron salt stung worse than the hell that demon had come from—and would soon be returning to. Hopefully the iron’s effect would disorient the beast and give Lily an edge.
Sebastian surged back to his feet, taking only a moment to look and confirm that Morgan now lay motionless, face down on the ground in an expanding pool of blood—no way was she getting back up from that one. Satisfied, he glanced back to the backpack and spotted the barrel of Mallory’s Beretta peeking out from under it. A crazy, insane plan popped into his head, and without wasting time to think it through, he scooped up the gun and ran around the circle as fast as his battered body would allow to come at the fight from Lily’s side. He spared a glance to check the clip. Mallory must have reloaded it just before being caught, because—to his relief—it was full. He fumbled a little as he re-inserted it, but managed to chamber a new round, just in case, and hoped like heck he had the safety off because he could never remember which way was on and which was off.
He skidded to a breathless halt where Richard stood a few paces behind Lily, looking helpless—and therefore furious—as the six wizards dodged and yelled, throwing spell after spell at the demon, who seemed to be shrugging most of them off. The wizards’ faces were haggard, but resolute, even though some of them looked about as exhausted and beat up as he felt.
“I will—hate you until the end of my days—for what you did to Lily—Agent Grant—but right now I need—your help.”
Richard spun at the sound of Sebastian’s voice, eyes wide but full of the familiar restless need to act. Sebastian held up the Beretta, caught his breath, and continued, “This gun is loaded with iron bullets, which demons are vulnerable to, but I’d still need to shoot point blank for them to have any chance of penetrating that thing’s scales. I need you to help me get close to it and boost me up on its back. Hopefully Lily and the others can cast some sort of spell to hold it still long enough for me to blow its brains out.”
“You won’t be blowing anything’s brains out with the safety on, you idiot,” Richard shouted over the demon’s roar of rage as he pointed at the gun. “Give me that. I’m trained in close-quarter firefights, I’ll do it.”
Every part of Sebastian rebelled against the idea of giving someone he didn’t trust a loaded weapon, much less putting their lives in Richard’s hands after how he’d betrayed them.
One of the wizard’s yells alerted them just in time to jump out of the way as the demon lunged at Lily and she backpedaled, stumbling into the space they’d just vacated. Before Sebastian could do anything—run, duck, grab Lily—the demon had regained its balance and pounced on her.
Sadly for the demon, it had picked the wrong wizard to try and eat for dinner. One would think it might have learned from the last time, but perhaps this particular demon was relying on its frightening strength to make up for its lack in the intelligence department. Whatever the demon hit, it wasn’t Lily, and in a flash of blinding white light it was thrown backward—all several tons of it—to land in a crash that made the whole warehouse shudder.
“Look, just give it to me!” Richard yelled, flicking his fingers in a frantic “gimmie” gesture even as his eyes were riveted on Lily picking herself back up. When Sebastian still hesitated, the FBI agent spun and locked eyes with him. “You will never fathom how much I regret my actions. I never, ever wanted Lily to get hurt. Mr. LeFay promised me she would be safe with him.”
“And you believed him?” Sebastian yelled, furious.
“I know, I know! But it doesn’t matter now. You don’t have to trust me, just believe that I will do whatever it takes to keep Lily safe.”
For a moment of frozen indecision, Sebastian weighed his options. He would never trust Richard ever again. But his truth coin was cool, and his ribs hurt with a sharpness that made him tremble with each draw of breath. Plus, what if the gun randomly decided not to work just when he needed it the most? He hated the idea—hated it with all his heart—but in that moment he knew he couldn’t do anything on his own to keep Lily safe.
And so he gave the gun to someone who could.
“Its scale plates will be thinnest right behind its ears and under its chin where the jaw meets the neck,” Sebastian yelled to Richard, recalling long ago instructions from the fae warriors tasked with teaching him how to fight their mortal enemies. Richard nodded, checked the gun’s chamber, then spun and ran over to Lily. Sebastian caught up just as Richard was telling her their plan and asking her to do something to keep the demon immobile for as long as possible.
Lily’s mouth op
ened, and Sebastian knew she was going to try and argue, to keep them from putting themselves in harm’s way. But Richard beat her to it.
“This is my job, Lily: to protect people. I don’t deserve...I never meant...” His voice broke and he turned away, shoulders hunched. But at a roar and tremble in the floor from the demon’s thrashing attempts to roll its awkward bulk upright, he squared his shoulders, shoved the gun into his waistband, and took off toward the beast.
Sebastian grabbed Lily’s hand and allowed himself a single, desperate squeeze. She tore her gaze away from Richard’s back and met Sebastian’s eyes, her face so full of emotion he could only identify the most obvious: relief, fear, and something that made glistening tears gather at the corners of her eyes. Overcome with the need to smooth the pain from her features, he raised her hand and kissed the back of it, then gave her his best effort at a jaunty wink before tearing off after Richard. Behind him there was a heavy pause, then Lily called urgently to the other wizards, gathering them to their task.
“If Lily and the others can hold it still, I’ll give you a boost right by its leg,” Sebastian said when he’d caught up to Richard. “You can use its spikes as hand and footholds. Once you’re over its shoulder, try to stay low on its back or it might grab you and pull you off.”
“Got it.”
The demon finally heaved itself upright and both Sebastian and Richard crouched down, staying still as its massive head swiveled toward the prey making the most noise—namely, the wizards. It snorted in what Sebastian could only guess was demon irritation, sending smoke and sparks flying from its nostrils. The sight awoke a memory in Sebastian’s mind and he had a sudden, horrible intuition. As the demon drew in a deep, long breath, Sebastian sprang to his feet, shouting, “Fire! It’s going to breathe fire!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Lily—curse her to the nine hells and beyond—leapt in front of the other wizards, her arms spread wide. It seemed like a silly, stupid gesture, as if she wasn’t a wizard and didn’t know any spells that might possibly protect them against fire. But perhaps she didn’t trust her own strength as much as she trusted the power that had never failed to watch over her.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Identity Page 34