Viggo knew instinctively that the mages had just sensed something untoward.
He picked up on a familiar taint in the air, along with an oppressive chill that prickled his skin. His pulse quickened.
“Dark magic,” Viggo growled.
Evander narrowed his eyes. “It’s fresh.”
They moved swiftly, caution abandoned in favour of speed. Viggo reached the door first and didn’t bother with the handle. His boot connected with the reinforced wood and sent it crashing inward, the protective runes flaring uselessly against his magic-resistant body.
The interior was a scene of chaos.
Furniture lay overturned and splintered. Books and papers were scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Scorch marks blackened the walls where magical attacks had gone astray and the air was redolent with the acrid stench of corrupt magic.
A strangled cry reached them from somewhere above.
“Upstairs!” Viggo barked.
They thundered up a narrow staircase, Viggo in the lead with Evander close behind. The sounds of struggle grew louder—crashes, grunts, the sizzle of dark magic being unleashed.
The noise led them to a door at the end of a small corridor. Viggo burst through it and rocked to a stop.
Eight figures in dark coats filled the cramped study, their hands wreathed in shadow and their eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. In the centre of the room, a thin grey-haired man in rumpled clothes was pinned against the wall, a dark mage’s hands wrapped around his throat. His face was purple, his feet kicking weakly as the life was choked out of him.
His appearance fit the description of Simek Solomon had obtained from his contact.
Viggo didn’t hesitate.
He crossed the distance to the mage strangling the occult researcher in two powerful strides and punched him in the face, his fist connecting with the mage’s jaw with a crack that echoed through the room. The man went flying into a bookcase that collapsed under the impact.
Simek crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.
“Protect him!” Evander shouted.
All hell broke loose as they came under attack from the dark mages. The opal rings they carried flared as black tendrils exploded from their enemies’ fingertips like living things.
The shadow creatures shrieked and retreated in the face of the disruptive magic from the rings.
The dark mages switched tactics, summoning spells next.
Viggo planted himself in front of Simek and caught the first volley of corrupt bolts on his forearms, the vile energy dissipating harmlessly against his skin.
Evander unleashed his powers across the way.
Fire and wind roared to life around him, forming a blazing vortex that drove three of the mages back against the far wall. The heat was intense enough that Viggo felt it even through his immunity, the flames casting dancing shadows across the chaos of the battle.
Fairbridge moved like a ghost amidst the enemy, his wind magic deflecting attacks whilst his hands and feet found their marks with the precision of an expert combatant. He disabled one mage with a blow to the throat, then spun to redirect a shadow bolt into the ceiling.
Rufus and Solomon fought back-to-back near the doorway, preventing any of the dark mages from escaping down the stairs. The inspector wielded a heavy candlestick he’d snatched from somewhere, using it to crack skulls and bones even as he punched and kicked his attackers. Solomon was a study in brutal motion, his years of street fighting evident in every strike.
Ginny had produced a knife from somewhere and was holding her own against a mage twice her size, her movements fluid and deadly as she avoided his blows and slashed his flesh.
Shaw sneaked around the edges of the room, grabbed Simek, and hauled him toward a corner where an overturned desk provided some cover. She crouched over him protectively, a stone truncheon forming in her hand as she activated her earth magic.
More shadow creatures came to life around them.
“There’s too many of them!” Rufus shouted as a monster grazed his shoulder.
“Then, let’s even the odds!” Evander snarled.
