A snarl of pure frustration rips from my throat. I cut my eyes to Emily, desperation a living thing in my gut.
Emily's hands flash out, magic missiles flying from her fingertips. Morgan bats them away with a contemptuous flick of her wrist, retaliating with hellfire that encircles my favorite witch in a ring of brimstone and agony.
"I'm losing my patience, leech." Morgan's voice drips with venom. "Hand. It. The. Fuck. Over."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
"Upstairs!" The word explodes from me in a roar of frustration. Sable has the fake stone, but this whole shit-show has spiraled so far off script, it might as well be a fucking improv night.
Phina trembles in my arms,each whimper a dagger to my chest. Her skin burns with unholy fever, wings dripping blood onto stone. The need to heal her, to give her my blood, screams through every cell in my body. But with Morgan's death grip on me...
Morgan's lips curl into a razor smile. "Fetch, witch." She drops her hand, and the ring of hellfire imprisoning Emily vanishes.
Emily staggers, magic flickering like a dying light. But then—holy shit—she hurls a tsunami of pure power at Morgan. "Like hell I will." Morgan flies backward, hitting the cavern wall with a satisfying crunch.
I don't waste the opening. My fangs slash into my wrist, and I press it to Phina's lips. "Drink, Cupcake. Come on."
She manages two weak swallows before her body revolts. Blood sprays from her lips as she convulses, each spasm driving another stake through my heart. "Phina! Baby, what—"
"It's the dark magic," Emily grits out, heading toward the stairs. "We need to delta the fuck out of here.Now."
I scoop up my angel, but Morgan's voice freezes us in our tracks.
"One more step," she purrs, darkness dancing in her eyes, "and I'll show you exactly what a necromancer can do with angel essence."
I clutch Phina tighter, her mangled wings painting gore across my legs. "Get fucked, Wednesday Addams."
The air suddenly becomes Arctic-level cold, like Hell decided to host a winter festival. Morgan raises her hands, and the floorsplits—rotting fingers burst through stone, grabbing for our ankles. The stench of decay fills the air.
Emily hurls a bolt of pure magic, but Morgan deflects it. "Really, witch? You think your parlor tricks can matchmypower? I've been collecting death magic since before your grandmother was born."
The undead hands catch my ankles. I kick free, but more replace them, trying to drag us down. Emily's magic blazes like a star, keeping the worst at bay, but sweat pours down her face from the effort.
"Running out of juice?" Morgan taunts. "Let me help with that."
She gestures sharply, and Emily doubles over, gasping. The color drains from her face as Morgan starts pulling her life force.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
"Stop!" I roar, desperatelysearching for options. Seraphina's dead weight in my arms, Emily being drained, and undead fuckers trying to drag us under. "I'll get the stone."
Morgan's smile is all razor blades. "Now we're talking." She eases her grip on Emily, who collapses to her knees. "Was that so hard?"
I snarl. "Let's all go, and—"
"Do I look stupid?" She clenches her fist, and Emily screams. "Put the angel down. You go get it. Try anything cute, and I'll finish what I started with those pretty wings."
Through our bond, I feel Seraphina's consciousness flicker dangerously. We're out of time.
"Deal," I growl. "But Emily comes with me."
Morgan's eyes narrow. "The witch is insurance. She stays. You have ten minutes, vampire. After that..." She strokes one of Seraphina's mangled wings, making her whimper. "Well, let's just say there are worse things than death."
I lay Seraphina down as gently as possible, my hands shaking with rage. Emily meets my eyes, and I see steel beneath her exhaustion.She has a plan.
"Tick tock," Morgan singsongs.
I force myself to turn away, each step feeling like betrayal. But as I reach the stairs, Emily's voice rings out—strong and clear:
