Now it’s our chance to kick some ass.
“You can do this.” I flash him a smile full of fang.
He doesn’t look convinced, but he does look determined. Before I can tell him that his wings don’t define him, he hurtles himself into the fray, his nephilim blood gifting him with more power than I ever thought possible as he takes down demon after demon after demon with nothing more than unyielding strength.
Smiling, I rush into the crush of the bodies after him and tear into our enemies.
Sixteen
Syko
Fighting without the benefit of my wings is the most challenging thing I’ve ever had to endure. Creatures swarm me from every angle, snarling and clashing with their vicious claws. I take a few blows; my skin splits open, and I’m nearly knocked over from the force of the blows, but my magic comes through.
Magical faerie dust sweeps through my blind spots, sucking up demons into a glittering vortex and spitting out their remains. Pixies cackle and blink in and out of sight right before my eyes, so it’s hard to even imagine them there at all.
I lose sight of Malek and Saint in the fray, but I hear the snarls and howls of the wolf tearing through enemies who reply with bloody screams. Azazel fights above us, and while his magic is strong, I’m easily tired and realize just how outnumbered we truly are. It’s a miracle we’ve survived this long in the fighting.
My back hurts, and I feel a violent pang between my shoulder blades, like I can sense the missing part of me. I’ve tried again and again to bring my magic forth, to summon wings in a way that has always come so naturally to me.
There’s nothing.
I don’t have time to despair.
A demon lunges for me on all six of its spindly limbs. I try to dodge, but its teeth rip into me, snagging against my shirt and ripping the material from my body. I lose my footing and skid along the ground, landing painfully against my back. The breath is knocked from my lungs, and the demon looms over me.
I’m so fucked.
The words barely cross my mind before a zapping light hits it square in the center of its chest and sends it flying back into an exploding tuft of bright pink confetti. All the demons near me suffer the same fate.
I push to my feet and turn to find Professor Henn wielding her wand with viciousness. I have to admit, she looks impeccable in her pink suit and moussed hair. Did she actually take the time to do her fucking makeup before rushing out into battle?
The fuck?
“Syko, sweetie, are you alright? Are the demons being mean to you?”
The demons are tearing through the fucking school and killing everyone in it, but thanks for asking, Professor.
“Don’t worry, we’ve come to help now,” she says.
“We?”
Sparks fly in a sudden explosion. Demons shriek and scramble away from the magic as suddenly, professor after professor jumps into the chaos to protect the statue. Professor Ravenstorm gallops and lunges into the skies with Azazel, his booming laughter echoing across the field. From the blackened clouds, electricity sizzles and zaps until gargoyles begin falling from the sky, one by fucking one.
“The school is ours to protect now, isn’t that right?” Professor Henn throws the words over her shoulder.
I can’t even believe what I’m seeing.
Prods of all years stalk up behind her with violence and anticipation thrumming through their bodies.
“You—you’re helping too?” I can’t help the disbelief in my tone.
“Professor Henn asked us to.” The face of a shifter Prod flushes. “We like her. She’s nice. Makes us cookies and shit.”
Cookies. Yeah… Don’t eat those… my mind rambles but there’s no time to discuss it.
“Aw, sweeties. You’re so kind. Now let’s go protect our school. Be careful!” And then they’re all charging forward with snarls and magic and the sparks flying from the tip of her wand.
Even Kayos pauses her flickering anger, her face smeared with ash as she watches the professor with wide eyes. Then she channels her violence and pushes it right into a group of demons on her right. She does it with ease. She thrashes that streaming energy to the right, the left, and the center.
