I swallowed, felt the answer rise up from somewhere below my ribs. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Then attend.” He raised his hands, palms outward, and the Seraphim mirrored him. The air went electric; the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up like it wanted to run away. The wind died, replaced by a low, humming vibration that crawled up my spine and settled behind my eyes.
“She is on the other side,” Archon said. “There are wards—old ones, deep as the bones of the world. They will try to confuse you. To turn you against each other. To make you doubt.” He swept his gaze over the gathered army. “Demons don’t conquer by blade alone. Their greatest target is an unguarded heart and mind.”
I looked at Menace, saw the grim set of his mouth, then at Big Papa, who’d taken Aspen’s hand and wasn’t letting go for anything.
Archon continued, “When you feel the cold, that is their breath. When you hear voices, ignore them. When you see things that cannot be, remember your purpose.” He smiled, eyes suddenly full of wild, brilliant humor. “You’re wolves. You know how to hold the line.”
Doc snorted. “Can you give us anything stronger than a pep talk, Boss?”
Archon grinned. “You already have everything you need. But if you survive, I’ll buy the first round.”
Even the Seraphim cracked a smile at that.
I stepped closer to the rim of the canyon, the mate bond pulling me forward like a chain around my heart. The air was thick, heavy, and tasted of lemon and frost. I remembered what Maltraz had said. “Come find us.” I intended to.
The others lined up behind me: Bronc and Wrecker, then Rafe, then Menace, then Arsenal and Aspen, then Doc and Big Papa. Gwen hovered just behind Rafe, her hand on his sleeve, her other hand clutching a bundle of dried herbs and bone.
Lucia and Kazimir had hung back, but as Archon started the ritual, they stepped up to the edge, vampire eyes gone full black. I was glad they were here, and that they had our backs.
Aspen leaned in and whispered, “When you see her, don’t hesitate. The longer you wait, the more it eats away at you.”
I nodded. “I’ll bring her back. Promise.”
She squeezed my arm. “See that you do.”
Archon raised his hands higher, the hum swelling into a physical force that made the rocks at our feet vibrate. He began to sing—not in words, but in notes, long and deep and ancient. The sound bounced off the canyon walls, set the world spinning just a little slower, made the moon seem bigger and brighter overhead.
The wind stopped. The sky went utterly still. For a heartbeat, every single thing on earth seemed to listen.
The stones at the rim of the canyon began to glow, first gold, then white-hot. The glow crept along the dust and grass, crawling toward the center of the overlook where Archon and the Seraphim stood. As it reached them, the air split—not with a bang, but a soft, insistent tearing, like silk being ripped by careful hands.
The witches held hands and quietly chanted something low and ancient.
A shimmer appeared in the open space above the canyon, wavering and flickering, then resolving into a perfect oval of blackness. Beyond it, the world was inverted—sky below, canyon above, and something like stars burning in the void.
Archon’s voice cut through the hum, clear and final. “Go! Run as one. Do not falter. Do not hesitate. Unity is your armor. Your purpose is your shield. Let no demon claim what is not theirs!”
For half a breath, no one moved.
Then Bronc nodded, and we all ran.
I heard boots hitting gravel, heard Wrecker’s voice counting off in my ear, heard Rafe bellow a war cry that made the canyon echo like a thousand wolves had come to the party. I heard Aspen’s feet behind me, heard the click of Arsenal’s magazine, heard the rush of blood in my own ears.
The veil shimmered, and then we were through.
For a second, I thought nothing had changed. The ground was the same, the air cold, the canyon walls red and sharp in the night. But the sky was wrong. Too dark, too close. The stars were different—jagged,moving, alive. The canyon floor below boiled with shadows, things moving in the dark that had no shape or sense. I felt the mate bond in my chest, a white-hot wire tugging me forward, down, into the abyss.
Behind us, the gate glowed low and dark. A slit in reality, waiting for us to finish our mission and return.
The world was silent except for the pounding of my heart.
I looked at Menace, who grinned, feral. “Showtime, cowboy.”
We moved as one, down the trail, into the screaming dark, into the jaws of hell.
For the first time since this started, I didn’t feel fear.
