All hell broke loose then, the concrete of the Underground shaking as an insane amount of spells hit right where their shelter was. Gentry bit back a scream, and her father hugged her so that his back was facing the open exit.
A grotesque growl before a too-white hand reached into their shelter, its claws managing to scratch Gentry’s arm. She shouted, shocked by the burning, when her father spun around and whispered a spell, forcing a terrifying red-eyed man to smack against the opposite wall. The impact knocked over and extinguished a torch. To Gentry’s terror, it made it harder to see. The monster stood back up, flashing its fangs at them.
Thankfully, Kit must’ve sent a spell, because the monster tumbled back once more. But then another shorter man ran into view, his palms glowing with unreleased magic. It looked strong. He sent it hurtling their way.
Gentry shrank back against the wall, trapped in the shelter with nowhere to run. The spell was perfectly aimed for her torso. But then she watched with horror as her father once again got infront of her, and took the blow to his abdomen. He smacked into her and the wall, and they both fell over into crumbled mortar and stone.
Only adrenaline gave Gentry the strength she needed to push her father off of her, her movements frantic. The light from her flashlight on her hip was the only way she could see her Dad’s pale, scared face. Blood pooled onto the ground, wetting her knees through her jeans as she positioned him the best she could and put pressure on his wound.
His green eyes were wide open, terrified as he seemed to be fighting to focus on her face, “Gentry,” he said, “my baby.”
“Don’t talk, Dad,” she tried to keep her voice steady, “Kit will be done soon, and then he can heal you.”
Her father kept talking, not listening to her, “There’s a key to my apartment in my pocket. Take it. I… I don’t know much, but what I do is there. The Cobalts, Gentry, that’s…” he coughed and gave up, “I want to tell you and your mother and sister that I love you all. I didn’t mean to be such a disappointment.”
Gentry shook her head, not sure how he seemed more lucid now that he was losing so much blood. “Dad, don’t say that. You’re with me, we’re together. Just focus on me, okay, we can…” But then she stopped, the words caught in her throat as she realized her father’s eyes had stopped blinking.
He was dead.
nineteen
Kit
Kit had nearly no time to respond when the first spell zipped past him, all he knew was that he’d chosen to face the more populated side first — three witches, their palms glowing from magic and giving away their positions. Dodging spells, he flattened himself to the wall and let himself do what he did best; he sent his spells flying.
In this situation, being the most powerful witch in the room wasn’t an advantage. Kit wasn’t particularly strong — he was fast and that worked well in the poorly lit environment. His palms only burnt with magic for a brief millisecond before he shot at the first witch. Then the second and third. They dropped, stunned but not dead. He could kill them later.
He whipped around, the snarls belonging to a vamp who was attacking Gentry and her father. He threw the vamp, but then had to dodge a spell rocketing his way from the last witch. He sent a retaliatory spell but missed. Then the vamp sprinted his way, its speed unnatural.
This time, the vampyre dodged his levitation attempt, its moves erratic. Kit dove to the left, wincing when he smackedagainst a wall. The move spun him to face the first three witches he’d downed. The vamp was close, its growling letting Kit know that he was dead if he didn’t act. Vamps never responded to magic predictably, and only beheading or a stake to the heart would end his opponent.
That left him with one choice. Kit needed a distraction.
Using a burst of magic, he picked up one of the stunned witches and threw him at the vamp. The effect was immediate as the vampyre snarled, tumbled, and then latched his fangs into his colleague’s neck in a feeding frenzy.
His muscles hardly cooperating, he rolled over onto his knees and then swayed to his feet, already scanning for his final opponent. Solid muscle smacked into him, and then Kit was wrestling a very strong, very pissed-off witch whose hands were burning with magic.
Kit let out a shout when those hands scorched his abdomen, and he instantly knew that the other man was trying to vent into his flesh — a move equivalent of a grenade going off into his stomach.
Thankfully, his own hands were pressed against the other witch’s temples. Kit acted instinctually, all the magic in his body flowing straight through his palms into the man’s skull. The effect was instant; a loud, sickening cracking sound, and then silence.
The vent had crushed his opponent’s skull. Killing him instantly. Utterly magic-less, Kit threw the corpse off him and stood, swaying from foot to foot.
Then he stumbled back to Gentry and her father’s hiding spot, passing the vamp who’d moved to feed on its second colleague. The disgustingly wet sounds of a feeding turned his stomach, but he listened intently.
They’d need to turn tail if those sounds stopped.
There was jack shit he could do if the vamp stopped feeding. Because he’d vented that bastard’s face off, his magic would be touch-and-go for the next two days. All their lives depended on the vampyre pigging out. He hurried to the corner where he’d pushed Gentry and her father.
A horror show awaited him. Kit swore when he saw the body and a crying Gentry. He focused on the small woman. Every inch of her was covered in blood, her hands white as she put pressure on the wound that must’ve killed her father. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
Gentry shook her head but didn’t look at him. “Can you heal him?” Her voice was lifeless and drowned in tears.
"Even if I could, he's already gone." Kit kept his voice soft as he knelt by the girl. Gently, he removed her hands from her father, unclipped the flashlight from her belt, and handed it to her. Slinging her backpack over his shoulder, he then got a grip on her blood-slicked clothes, hoisted her up, and said, "We need to leave. I'm sorry."
Gentry stayed still in his arms, but pointed the flashlight in the correct direction. "You killed them all?" she asked, her dazed gaze flickering down to her father, but she didn't protest when he turned around, choosing instead to tighten her hands on his T-shirt.
"The ones I could," he admitted. His ears were tuned in to the horrible sounds of the vampyre feeding right behind them, and he hoped the girl didn't notice. He didn't want to tell her that if that vamp finished feeding, then they'd pretty much be screwed. He took off into a jog, aware of the monster at their backs, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he looked for one of the ladders that would lead out of the Underground.
