Paddy pulled a black cylinder from his tactical bandolier, yanked the pin out, then tossed it at the incoming guards.
I pivoted, putting my back to the guards and dragging Orrin with me so he didn’t blind himself.
“What—” Orrin started, until the weapon went off, illuminating the factory bright enough that I could see the bug spatters on the brick wall in front of us and creating a loud bang that would be deafening to the werewolves and vamps.
“Flash-bang,” I said before I turned us back around.
As predicted, the wolves and vamps were down—clutching their ears.
The fae were still standing, but they had to be blinded by the bright light as they tripped over their fellow guards.
“Pushing in,” Dad announced. “Rearguard, restrain them!”
“I’m well aware of standard procedure, child,” Granny drawled as our team pushed farther into the factory.
I itched to pull out a dagger, my handgun—anyweapon.
No. I’m not a fighter this time, I’m a support troop, for Considine. I have to be ready for him.
Another team of guards—all fae—swept in our direction.
My family readied their weapons, but the fae stopped in their tracks with a scream and fell face first, their limbs jolting in classic signs of being shot by a Taser.
Behind them stood a team of slayers, led by two of my elderly O’Neil relatives.
“Yoo-hoo! Hello, dearie!” Great Aunt Nora shouted and waved—still holding her Taser—until Great Uncle Thomas elbowed her.
“East team made it in,” Uncle Dennis unnecessarily announced.
“Activate your magic!” The order echoed through the factory as more guards stormed the factory, entering through an abandoned office area. “Go!”
A wave of water hovered in the air, and two centaurs armed with spears charged at us.
Jasper tsked in irritation before he shot one of the centaurs in the rump, making the fae screech to a stop. “Bait Team must be losing the guards’ attention. Sloppy work.”
“More fun for us.” Alex took out the second centaur before it could get within melee range.
“It’s a good thing there are so few of you slayers,” Orrin muttered. “Or you might be tempted to take over the world.”
Mom laughed as she tossed a potion—it was reminiscent of Grove’s work as it was an unappealing shade of puce—at an incoming troll. “Too much paperwork, and once it was done there wouldn’t be any more fighting to entertain us.”
The potion hit the troll in the face and shattered on impact, releasing a cloud of gas that made the troll gag.
Orrin shook his head as our party pushed farther into the factory, passing under two of the four ceiling skylights and approaching the cemented corner that held Considine.
The excavation team was already there, with a Cooper slayer starting a jackhammer.
It kicked up a deafening noise that had any remaining, conscious werewolves howling, but after a few seconds of dust spewed drilling, the Cooper slayer backed off, and a Patel slayer used a hand broom to brush chunks of cement and sediment aside. “The cement is less than two inches thick,” he shouted. “Get out the sledgehammers and pry bars!”
Three Song slayers unloaded the sledgehammers secured to their backs and started smashing the cement. The Cooper slayer set to work making multiple holes in the newly fractured cement so the excavation team could get their pry bars under the cement and pull it away. The tallest Son slayer relentlessly hammered on the dragon that had been drawn into the cement.
The cement cracked, breaking the dragon into multiple pieces, and light flashed on the floor.
“I think whatever seal she put on this is broken,” the Song slayer shouted over the jackhammer.
My instincts were wild with the need to fight as more of Gisila’s hired guards flooded the factory. I curled my hands into fists and watched the excavation team pull more cement aside.
“We’ve got a surface revealed,” one of the Songs shouted. “Metal!”
