“Speak for yourself,” Mayhem said.
She cleared her throat. “We don’t want to, but we will if you don’t stop.”
The air witch’s face contorted in an agonized rage, the amulet’s broken residual magic giving him the strength to break through my brothers’ hold. An animalistic yelp ripped from his throat, and he whirled toward Cinder, circling his finger and sweeping her into a funnel of wind.
“Give me the amulet,” he said through clenched teeth.
“We don’t have it.” Cinder struggled against the tornado, but he pinned her arms to her sides. “Goddess, I hate air witches.”
“As do I.” Not bothering with human weapons or subtle magic, I launched myself at the funnel, shifting into my partial demon form mid-air. My weight increased tenfold, my skin hardening into obsidian-like armor as I crashed through the wind barrier.
I grabbed Cinder by the waist and used my momentum to tackle her out of the cyclone, shielding her body with mine as we hit the grass.
“Are you okay?” I asked, searching her face as my arms returned to their human form.
“I’m pissed but fine.” She scrambled to her feet and lit a fireball in each hand. “It’s nine against one. Let’s roast this turkey.”
“You think I came alone?” Adrian hovered above us, his laughter grating against my eardrums. He raised a hand, and fog rolled around us, turning the scene gray. “My coven always does my bidding.”
A dozen figures stepped from the tree line. They looked ragged, their eyes hollow, likely drained by Adrian’s parasitic hold on the amulet’s magic, but they raised their hands, ready to fight.
A brunette witch rattled off a string of hexes and tossed a powder into the air. Adrian swiped his hand toward it, and a gust of wind carried the spell toward us.
“Oh, hell no.” Ember gripped her sword with both hands, fire erupting on the blade as she swung it into the cloud.
The hex dissipated, but not before a few grains of powder reached Miles. He choked, unable to suck in a breath, his eyes bulging and turning red. Black veins spider-webbed around the sockets, and he dropped to his knees, clawing at his throat.
“Patrice, help him,” Cinder commanded.
“On it.” The healer lowered next to him and poured a small bottle of bright green liquid into his mouth. The black veins disappeared instantly, and he raked in a ragged breath.
Perhaps the disgraced witch could redeem herself after all.
A male witch raced toward Ember, blades drawn. Ash swung her fireplace poker at his kneecaps, and he pitched forward. Ember hit his head with the flat side of her extinguished blade, and he dropped to the ground with a thud.
“We can’t do this here.” Cinder dodged another powdered hex, lighting the granules ablaze to deactivate it. “Too many civilians nearby.”
“To the woods,” I said. “Lead them to the clearing.”
“Run,” she shouted.
We bolted toward the tree line, feigning a retreat. It worked. Adrian’s ego wouldn’t allow him to let us escape, and his followers were too terrified of him to disobey.
“Get them!” Adrian screamed, riding a gust of wind above us like a vengeful god.
We crashed through the underbrush, the sounds of the city’s revelry fading behind us, the crackle of magic and the snapping of branches replacing the festive symphony.
A bolt of lightning struck a tree inches from my head, showering me in sparks. I spun, shooting a stream of hellfire at the caster. The witch dove behind a boulder, shrieking as the rock turned molten red.
“Mayhem, cover us,” I said.
“With pleasure.” He grabbed a fallen log the size of a telephone pole and swung it like a sword, knocking three pursuing witches into a ravine.
Ember stood back-to-back with him, shooting streams of flames that set the attackers’ clothes on fire.
They stopped to extinguish the blaze, and we pushed deeper into the forest, the air growing heavier with every step. The sulfurous odor of the Underworld grew strong enough to taste, a sign we were nearing the rift.
“This is far enough,” I said, skidding to a halt in a small grove of pines just short of the main clearing.
