Drake snarled. “We already told you that we weren’t going to leave. Open your ears.”
Azaret sighed melodramatically. “So be it.”
More imps came flying out. My barrier had weakened, and the imps pushed through, two going for Rachel and Emma as others went for the other wolves. One went for me, and I just managed to blast it away from me.
My eyes darted all around the room, heart hammering. Rachel and Emma couldn’t do anything. My eyes locked on a discarded iron blade, one that had fallen when its wielder had died. My jaw tightened. I had never been able to control anything with any sort of precision, but this was the only thing I could think of that might work.
The blade trembled as it raised in the air. With gritted teeth, I forced it forward. I watched as it flew through the air, wobbling slightly but staying true as it sped toward its target.
Azaret noticed too late. His eyes grew wide, flashing red. He moved, and that was the only thing that stopped it from burying itself in his shoulder instead of his heart.
Another blade, though this time, I misjudged. The blade went too low, and Azaret was ready for me this time. It didn’t hit where I had wanted, but it did slice across his side. Dark black blood oozed from the wound.
Azaret howled in pain, an inhuman scream that pierced my eardrums. He rounded on me, eyes burning as he clutched his side.
“You bitch,” he snarled.
“Witch, actually,” I said.
His snarl deepened. With supernatural speed, he lunged toward me, too fast for me to react or retaliate.
Blinding, agonizing pain burst through my side, and I shrieked as I staggered back, my hand going to the wound.
Somewhere beyond, I heard Drake yell, but it sounded muted, distant, even as I could hear the fright and anguish in his voice.
I stumbled, my feet slipping on the damp floor, before I collapsed, my back slamming into the rock wall, only softened bya bit of moss. I groaned as my eyes fluttered open. Azaret loomed over me, scowling, those black eyes burning with rage.
“We demons have a rule,” he snarled. “Like for like. Personally, I hold by a different belief: any insult to me, I exact a hundredfold.”
His hand dragged along my side, and I could hear a horrifying scream echo and reverberate around the cavern. It took me a moment to realize that it was coming from me.
The weight vanished as Azaret let out a cry of surprise. Groaning, I raised my head to see what had happened. Drake was on top of Azaret, blade moving toward the demon’s neck.
“You’re dead,” Drake snarled.
I managed to lift my head enough to see a horde of shifters, both in wolf and human form, approaching, each of them with iron weapons in hand.
Drake prepared to slice the demon’s throat. Azaret shoved him off just long enough to scramble to his feet. Drake was already approaching once more, his eyes screaming murder and rage.
Azaret hissed, taking a step back as he glowered at Drake. His eyes darted from Drake to the dozen wolves approaching. Even through the pain, I could see the gears working in his head. He could either fight and risk death, or he could cut his losses and run to fight another day.
He grabbed Drake by the neck and shoved him hard, slamming him into the wall of shifters that had been prepared to attack. They tumbled like bowling pins. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been in such agony.
Azaret darted through the tunnel and was gone before anyone could react. A few wolves darted after him, but we allknew he would be gone before anyone got to him. He’d managed to worm away.
Drake didn’t even bother looking toward the tunnel. The second he got to his feet, he was racing over to crouch next to me.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, fingers tightening around me. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time. Another demon had me pinned.”
“It’s okay,” I said, even as I winced and the pain continued radiating through me in nauseating waves. My vision was flickering, and I knew I might pass out at any second.
“You’re going to be all right,” Drake said. He twisted around. “Lucas—over here!”
A handsome shifter materialized next to me, a medical bag clutched in his hand. He crouched next to me, eyes darting over me as he assessed my injuries, his attention lingering on my shoulder and side.
“He gets you anywhere else?” he asked as he started pulling things out of his bag.
“I hit my head at some point,” I muttered.
