We cannot let her expire here,Silas grits through the bond as he takes down a powerful caster. Blood is dripping from his nose, but he ignores it.Natalya knows the ways to kill a revenant and will have passed those methods on to her army. IfMaven expires, she will be vulnerable to being ripped to shreds or burned to ash while unconscious.
I swear when another bullet grazes my right arm. Turning around, I send a blast of ice into any enemies racing after us to make sure no one attacks from behind.
Baelfire’s dragon roars and crushes more legacies before he speaks telepathically.During training, she said the only way to snap her out of this is by expiring, but I’m not fucking hurting her.
I’ve got a better idea, Crypt says.
Just as I turn back around, he drops out of Limbo—directly onto Maven’s back.
Oh, fuck. The berserker is going to rip him limb from limb, just like she’s done to everything else that has made the mistake of getting too close to her.
Crackling black magic blooms around the death-craving revenant as she tries to attack Crypt, but even though he must be in agony, the incubus reaches down to cradle Maven’s head. He grimaces, swearing viciously as his markings light up brightly.
Silas and I move to shield the two of them from any more threats. Luckily, the fight is waning as many opponents have started to run from the terrifying revenant. The few who remain are primarily focused on the biggest target—Baelfire. Silas and I take care of any legacies or hellhounds who approach as Crypt tries like hell to use his sleep-inducing ability on the berserker.
Her dark magic finally dissipates. I risk a glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that Maven is blessedly unconscious.
“Thank the gods,” I mutter.
Silas sends some necromantic spell at two wolf shifters racing toward us, but his gaze slips to the sky.
“Those godsdamned humans and their love of drama,” he scowls.
Glancing up, I swear.
A news helicopter is hovering high in the sky, getting footage of the fight in the street below. Baelfire snarls and pauses in chasing enemies away to shoot a warning column of blinding blue fire into the air. It’s nowhere near close enough to endanger the idiot humans looking for a scoop, but it does seem to frighten the pilot into his good senses because the helicopter slowly backs off.
Not nearly as many enemies remain now, and the ones that do are attacking Baelfire. I let Silas stay on guard and crouch beside Maven, who is sleeping on the black pavement of the blood-soaked street.
Crypt looks exhausted as he finally pulls his hands away from her head, wiping sweat off his brow. His leather jacket is missing, and he has a nasty-looking cut on one forearm that’s struggling to heal.
“Scyntyche’s scythe, our girl is strong,” he mutters. “That took nearly everything I had.”
“Let’s hope she wakes up as Maven instead of the thing that did all of this,” I say, turning to survey the dying aftermath of the battle.
But then I freeze.
Natalya Genovese is standing at the end of the blood-and-corpse-filled street, dressed in a shimmering cut-out dress like she was just about to hit her favorite high-end club. Her auburn hair is brighter under the rising dawn as her glowing blue gaze falls to Maven, still unconscious on the ground.
Silas spots her, too, and swears. “She can’t get into our heads, so why are her eyes glowing?”
Shit,Baelfire says through the bond.This is so fucking creepy.
Not willing to take my eyes off Maven’s final immortal target, I use my peripheries to see what he’s talking about.The remaining legacies who were just retreating are now approaching, their movements and steps in perfect synchrony.
A dozen or so casters raise their hands at the same time. The handful of remaining shifters howl, snarl, hiss, or roar at once. Three bounty hunters cock their guns and take aim simultaneously.
They’re like puppets now. Completely under the vampyr’s control.
All at once, perfectly coordinated attacks surge around us. I throw a thick ice shield around Maven just as Crypt leaps away, drawing out his enchanted sword to attack the nearest enemy. Baelfire swivels, his neck swinging low as he goes right for Natalya—but just as he opens his mouth to breathe fire, one of the mind-controlled bounty hunters fires off a tranquilizer that tags the beast in the roof of his mouth.
He roars, shuddering as he crashes into the row of historic Baltimore houses. I’m so busy freezing anything that comes close to my shielded keeper that I don’t see the toppling building beside me until it’s too late.
“Shit,” I swear.
I try to roll and end up buried in debris up to my neck, weight crushing my chest. Pain lights up my right arm.
Broken. Great.
