It was interesting they knew about Mo’s inability to control large bits of water, given I’d only discovered it today. Had Max told them? Or had someone been researching just what her capabilities were as a mage? Maybe the answer was even more simple than that—there were demon equivalents of mages, after all, so it was possible the knowledge came from one or more of them having crossed swords with her in the past.
“Perhaps that’s true on the mainland, but we’re not there, are we?” I replied. “We’re standing on King Island, the place my ancestors have protected for countless centuries.”
He waved a hand in a dismissive manner. “It is but a worthless piece of rock now that the sword has been claimed.”
“You think it was just the sword we were protecting?” I smiled benignly. “My, my, what lies has Max been telling you?”
His gaze narrowed and, from behind me, came a snick of sound—the safeties being unlocked on three guns. My nails were now so deeply pressed into my palms that I was drawing blood. “I suggest you all leave now, while you still can.”
He laughed again. “You’re alone and without your knives. Both the numbers and the outcome are in our favor.”
“Who said I’m alone?”
With that, I dropped flat and unleashed the pent-up inner power at the three people behind me. Multiple forks of fierce white light burned from my fingertips and shot across the darkness, hitting all three weapons at the same time and turning them into nothing more than liquid metal. In the process, it cindered the hands of those who held them. Their screams of agony and disbelief filled the night air.
A different type of scream rose from behind me, but it was one I recognized—it was Hecate’s battle cry. Luc had joined the fray. A man bellowed, the sound followed by the sharp retort of a gun.
My heart leapt into my mouth. I twisted around, but all I could see was Winter coming straight at me.
I slapped a hand onto the ground and called on the earth to entrap him. She responded fiercely, her power burning into my fingers then on through my body before erupting from my feet. She swept up the dirt and stone, forming it into a liquid wave that rolled toward Winter with ever increasing speed and ferocity. A brief flash of horror crossed his face then he turned and fled. This Winter was not as brave as the first.
“Gurra!” he shouted. “Stop her!”
The winged demon screeched in response and dove at me, his talons gleaming like fresh blood in the shadows of the night. I flicked lightning upward, and he banked sharply, his wings a blur as he fought to outfly the bolt.
More footsteps on earth, their weight clean rather than foul. I twisted around. The two men were coming at me, pain and madness etched into their faces.
I recalled the lightning and lashed it toward them, punching a hole the size of my fist through the chest of one before wrapping the lash around the neck of the second. His eyes went wide in a brief moment of lucid horror, then the energy severed his neck, killing thought as it separated body from brain. His head hit the ground and rolled back down the path. The dog-faced woman took one look, then ran. She got five steps before a bullet tore through her head and sent blood, brains, and gore flying.
Jess, putting her sharpshooter skills to good use.
I pushed upright; weariness hit like a hammer, and I swayed briefly, battling to remain standing against the specter of exhaustion and pain that threatened to sweep me away.
Up ahead, Winter’s two companions lay on the ground, their bodies cleaved in two. Luc was now visible, but he was surrounded by half a dozen demons who’d come from god knew where … Another screech had my gaze jumping up. All I saw was demon claws.
I threw myself sideways, hitting the ground hard on my injured arm. Agony bloomed, and a bellow tore up my throat, but I somehow managed to clamp down on it. The last thing I wanted was to distract Luc, however momentarily. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t need to see to know where the demon was. I could feel him on the wind. I flicked up a hand, and the air responded, swirling toward the diving demon. He abruptly switched direction, but the maelstrom caught him and sent him tumbling toward Ainslyn’s shore and Jess.
I twisted around to watch; multiple wounds appeared across his body, and black blood flowed. He was dead long before the wind smashed him onto the rocks.
I sucked in a breath, then once again wearily pushed to my feet. Everything ached, and my vision continued to go in and out of focus. At least the wind’s whispers were clear of immediate threat, even if the sound of fighting still echoed. But the demons surrounding Luc now numbered three, and Hecate’s thirst was far from quenched. Two of the remaining demons were dispatched as I walked over to Winter.
Though he was stuck neck-deep in my wave of earth and stone, his expression was furious rather than fearful. That probably wouldn’t change now, even if this version had run when confronted by an example of my power.
“Before you die, I wanted you to know that I will stop you. All of you.” My voice was flat, devoid of fury and anger. It had all burned out of me; the only thing that remained was bitter determination. “Neither Max nor anyone else in Darkside knows as much about the De Montfort line and the king’s sword as they think.”
Winter sneered. “The sword—and the only man who can wield it—is ours. He will open the main gate, and there is nothing you can do to stop him or us.”
“A pleasant fantasy, but a fantasy nonetheless. Or did you think there was only ever one sword made?”
He snorted, though a touch of uncertainty flicked through his eyes. “You think we’d believe such a patently obvious lie?”
“I’m many things, Winter, but a liar isn’t one of them. Ask Max. Or rather, have one of your counterparts ask him, because you’ll certainly never have the chance to deceive him again.”
And with that, I asked the earth to complete the cage. She responded so swiftly—so eagerly—that the ground vibrated underneath my feet, forcing me to fling out my arms in an effort to maintain balance. The ground swept up his face, filling his mouth and nose, and cutting off his air. Then stone encased him, until all that remained was a small monolith that vaguely resembled humanity.
As deaths went, it was far too damn swift, given the pain and hurt he’d inflicted on someone I cared about, but I doubted that would have stopped him passing on the information about the sword—not if all the versions of him truly did share a consciousness.
I was okay with that. I wanted them to know we were coming after them. Wanted them to fear that the sword they owned—via the man who’d raised it—was not the only sword of power.
If nothing else, it might just delay any planned attack against the gate.
Of course, it would undoubtedly cause them to ramp up the attacks on Mo and me, but that was infinitely better than Mia, Ginny, or even Barney, getting caught in the crossfire.
I drew in a deep breath, then glanced up as Luc approached. There was a small backpack slung around one shoulder, and his clothes were splattered with demon blood, but other than the cut across his cheek—one that looked to have been made with a knife rather than a bullet—he appeared unhurt.
I smiled wearily. “Glad you managed to join the party.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. That was quite a show you put on.” The lightness in his voice failed to reach his eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”