A bell rang and I looked up to find a woman in black moving through the haze of magic.
“Son of a bitch,” Connor murmured beside me.
It was Lucy Dalton, the bartender from The Raucous Wolf.
She ruthlessly pulled back her curls, slicked now into a tight bun, and wore a gown of black velvet that fell to her ankles. A silver cord made a belt, and on it hung a tinkling silver bell. Her arms were bare, the thin line of a stave tattoo stark against her skin.
Three more women, all in black gowns, stepped toward the light. They were different sizes, different skin tones, different hairstyles. But there was no mistaking the magic.
“Not what I thought I’d see when I climbed out of bed this morning,” Theo murmured. “I am Theo Martin,” he announced, the sound of his voice echoing through the chamber as he held up his badge. “And this is Elisa Sullivan. We’re Ombuds, and we’re ordering you to immediately cease and desist all magical activities. The Chicago Police Department is outside, and you are surrounded.”
They weren’t outside quite yet, but would be eventually. And hopefully soon enough.
The witches didn’t move closer, but magic rose higher, the scent of sulfur staining the air and leaving bitterness on the tongue.
“Stop,” Theo commanded. “We know you’re trying to cause a disaster.”
“We’re trying topreventa disaster. Darkness is coming.” Dalton’s gaze shifted smoothly to Connor’s. “I’m sure you can feel it in the air, like a storm on the horizon. The pressure changes, andthe storm breaks, and we will all be caught in its power. We will drown in its power.”
“So you decided dark magic was the solution?” Connor asked. “Blood sacrifice?”
“The loss of a few is a small cost to bear.”
I’d heard the AAM make that same argument, and I hadn’t bought it then, either. “I bet the ‘few’ would disagree with you. And dark magic has consequences. You might actually be making the disaster worse.”
Her smile was thin. “Unlike the Precursor, our understanding is strong.”
Something went cold and sick in my belly. Did she mean Lulu’s mother? The woman who’d become so addicted to dark magic she’d nearly destroyed Chicago in the process?
“I don’t supposeExpelliarmuswould work here?” Theo murmured.
“Wrong fairy tale,” I said, and unsheathed my sword.
“We won’t allow this to happen,” Connor said. “You have to know that.”
“You have no choice. You cannot stop this,” she said, the magic growing thicker, as she pulled a gleaming dagger from her skirt and moved toward the circle. “If you attempt to do so, we all die. And that death will be ugly.”
But if we let it proceed, she’d kill Ariel in front of us. Murder and apocalypse were both bad options, but I laid odds that the apocalypse wasn’t going to happen today. “First problem first,” I said, and darted toward the circle.
And without bothering to consider whether it was a good idea or not, I swiped a foot through the salt. As if freed by the magic, Ariel groaned.
Dalton screamed like a banshee, and magic blew through thecorridor like a hurricane, sending dust, salt, and shards of old glass flying.
I raised a hand to shield my face, used the other to point at the three young women who now looked utterly shocked to find themselves standing over Ariel’s unconscious body—and facing down a sorceress with spells at her literal fingertips.
“Get the witches,” I told them. “I’ll take the boss.” I smiled at Dalton and rolled my sword in my hand as she gathered up a swirling mass of green magic that resembled the clouds outside. She had been the source of the storm.
She tossed the first volley. Fortunately, katanas were fairly good weapons against fireballs. I raised my katana, used it to strike back. Magic bounced against the blade, spun off, and struck a metal support beam, which groaned in response, sending up a firework’s worth of sparks.
I spun and swung the sword into a low arc, sending another shot high into the rafters. Bird’s nests, and probably worse, snowed down around us. The concrete floor was dotted with kindling now, and it flared in the sparks that flew with each round of magic. Fires began to sprout in piles of detritus; it felt like we were fighting in hell itself.
Dalton’s face was red with fury, her eyes like flame as she reloaded and fired again. These blasts were smaller, faster, and I swung the katana wildly to catch them. I needed to redirect them, giving Connor, Theo, and the other witches a chance to escape through the doors behind me.
I spun and felt the sear across my shoulder as magic grazed my arm. I looked down to see a bright red smear of blood through a rip in my T-shirt, the pain hotter than anything I’d felt before. I heard myself whimper but swallowed hard against a bolt of nausea, glad at least that she hadn’t hit my shoulder.
Light blasted behind me and a growl rent the air.
Connor, I thought, my heart tripping in response as the great gray wolf barreled past me. He struck Dalton with enough force to send her flying back and into a pile of old lumber. Dalton screamed and tried to scramble away. He growled at her, lips curled back, human fury in his eyes.
