“If Mia doesn’t end up becoming Barney’s second on the council after this, I’d be very surprised.” His admiration shone through. “She’s very good at organizing people.”
“Well, she is an accountant. They have very organized minds.”
“I certainly don’t think our plans would be so advanced without her.”
“So the exodus of the greater Ainslyn area is proceeding?”
“At a pace. Evac centers have been set up in a number of the business district’s more secure buildings, and we’ve Okoro wind witches stationed at all of them. They’ll be able to blow away any demons that do attempt an attack.”
“I doubt they will, at least not initially. They’ll concentrate on old Ainslyn and the areas immediately surrounding it. How’s the shield going?”
“It’s in place, but we’re raising a secondary one around the old tower and her tunnels as a final line of defense.”
“Fingers crossed all this will be over before either becomes necessary. Who’s in charge of the map room and communications?”
“Ginny and Barney. I’m heading over to King Island at dawn to make sure there’s no demonkind lingering over there.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you rested first? We’re not going to get back to Ainslyn until later in the afternoon, given we’ll have to drive rather than fly.”
“I’ll rest when you’re safe, not before.”
“Lovely sentiment, but the last thing I want is you collapsing with exhaustion in the middle of battle.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
A smile tugged at my lips. He did have a point. “Send Ricker a text. Tell him I’m five minutes away.”
“I will.” He hesitated. “Come back to me, Gwen.”
“I will,” I said, and then hung up before I said something stupid.
Something like “I love you”, when I barely even knew him.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and then crossed my arms and watched Mo wrap the final few threads of the tracking spell around the hair. The minute the spell was activated, it began to pulse, the rhythm strong and rapid.
The bastard was close.
I scanned the nearby buildings but couldn’t see anyone on their rooftops, and there was no evidence anyone was using a concealment spell.
“He’s over the river but moving away rapidly from the main action,” Mo said. “I doubt he’d be in retreat, so he’s obviously got additional mischief planned. You ready?”
“No.” I took a deep, somewhat quivering breath. “Yes.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around me. Though her hug was fierce and strong, it didn’t provide a whole lot in the way of comfort. At this point, it was doubtful anything could.
“You’ll be fine, darling girl. You just need to believe in yourself as much as an old goddess and I do.”
I half laughed. “I’m thinking that old goddess wouldn’t be too fazed if her plans go awry. It’d just give her something else to do for the next few centuries.”
“She might not be, but I certainly would.” She pulled back, her gaze searching mine. “I know what you plan, Gwen. Just be aware of the toll it will take.”
I nodded, though in truth neither of us really knew what the cost would be, because what I intended had never been tried before. “I’ll be fine. Vita is with me.”
“Even Vita cannot stop death.”
“I have no intention of dying. I have a gorgeous man who’s promised me days of endless, glorious sex, and I fully intend to hold him to that promise.”
Her smile failed to lift the concern and worry in her eyes. “Rendezvous in six hours, then?”
I nodded. Six hours would give me time to recover while still allowing us to reach King Island before dusk.
Her gaze scanned my face one more time, then she turned, shifted shape, and flew away. Leaving me more alone than I’d felt in my entire life.
I gathered the bound knives and resolutely walked over to the edge of the building. Wisps of pink and gold were just beginning to stain the horizon. It was time.
I gathered the unspooling threads of my courage then shifted shape and swept up my knives, one claw over the two hilts, the other gripping the leather binding the blades together. And I prayed, as I leapt off the building and arrowed toward the palace, that gut instinct was right. That not only could I do what no other witch king had, but also no other De Montfort.
This could all go to hell in a handbasket very quickly if it proved otherwise.
I flew on, my gaze on the palace and my wings a blur. But I was a white bird in a still-dark sky and, though small, I was not unnoticeable.
And the winged demons did notice.
They came in hard and fast, their red eyes filled with bloodlust and diamond-sharp claws gleaming wickedly.
I ducked and weaved through their onslaught, missing each attack by the merest fraction. All too soon, the sky was filled with their mass, and the only option I had was to dive. The roar of their pursuit filled the air, and their intent, their hunger, their sheer and terrifying presence as they drew closer and closer swamped my senses … They’d catch me long before I reached the safety of the palace. It was simply too far away.
I had to attack. Had to.
I briefly closed my eyes, prayed to an old goddess for luck, and then tightened my claw around the knife hilts and reached for the lightning.
For an instant, nothing happened, and my heart just about froze in fear.
Then the blades pulsed and multiple forks of lightning shot from the steel, a sheer, dangerous power that burned away the leather sheaths and left the glowing blades naked. The bolts streaked through the night, hitting countless winged monstrosities and cindering their flesh between one heartbeat and the next.
But not even my lightning was capable of destroying them all.
I arrowed on, my gaze on the small whirlpool now forming on top of the shield protecting the palace. The witches were opening a portal, but it was too small, and I was coming in too fast, and god, it was going to be tight. But I had no choice. I couldn’t risk using more lightning without draining the strength I’d need to shut the gates, and the demons were once again closing in fast.
A claw ripped across the primary feathers at the very end of my left wing. I automatically dropped in the opposite direction, glimpsed bits of feather fluttering away, saw the big black monster swinging around for another go.
Then I saw men on the ground with weapons aimed upward.
I swore internally and began zigzagging in an effort to make it as difficult as possible for the bastards to pinpoint me. The screams of the flighted demons grew louder, the shield protecting the palace nearer, the portal wider.
I was close, so close to safety …
A demon smashed into my body, sending me tumbling out of control, over and over, through the air. For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fly, my world nothing more than a whirling press of color, confusion, and fear.
Gravity and my natural sense of balance soon reasserted itself, but flying was suddenly difficult and off balance. I jagged sideways, unable to maintain a straight line or any great speed. It only took a glance at my right wing to discover why—multiple flight feathers had been torn from a good portion of my wing, and the rest were bloody and in a goddamn mess. That I remained in the air and flying was a miracle.