Demons lurch from the shadows by the dozens. Hunched things with too many joints, claws like rusted daggers, faces barely formed. They shriek and charge.
Orion collides with the nearest one, his mighty jaws clamping around its throat. Black ichor sprays. The demon claws at his side, raking deep, but Eliza is there, slamming into it with the force of a freight train.
I lose sight of them as a demon lunges at me.
I roll, spirit fire lashing out. It catches the thing across what might be eyes, and it reels back screaming. Sebastian's magic slams into it a heartbeat later—necrotic energy that rots flesh on contact. The demon crumples.
"Help the hostages!"
Clara and Izzy are already moving, weaving between combatants toward the containment circle. Asher follows to help them. He reaches a teenage boy, pale and shaking, and works to free him.
"Orion, get them out!" Eliza screams.
Orion changes course to help Asher, Clara, and Izzy. Good, I like the idea that there’s some violent force watching over them.
A demon crashes into me from the side.
We hit the ground hard, its weight crushing, claws slashing. I’m pinned in an awkward position and can’t wriggle free. Instinct flares, and I throw up a shield. The demon crashes against it with all its bodily might.
The shield holds, but barely.
The demon's hot breath reeks of rot and sulfur, its distorted face inches from mine.
Wylder's there in an instant.
Thorned vines punch through the demon's back, erupting from its chest. It convulses, shrieks, then goes limp. He hauls the beast off me and grabs my wrist to pull me up to my feet.
“Good timing.”
He winks. “I do my best.”
Rowan unleashes a wave of shadow magic that sweeps three demons back, pinning them against the wall. Reid and a wolf shifter tear into them before they can recover.
Tharuzel hasn't moved.
He stands at the circle's center, watching. Feeding. I can feel it through the bond, the way he's pulling power from the sigils, from the hostages he ate, from the chaos itself.
"Hurry. He’s getting stronger by the minute.”
Sebastian’s expression grows even grimmer. "Everyone who’s able, focus on Tharuzel.”
Wylder falls in beside us, and we charge.
I lead with spirit fire, twin streams pouring from my hands. Sebastian's necromantic energy joins mine, black and blue magic spiraling together. Wylder sends vines snaking across the floor, trying to entangle Tharuzel's legs.
The demon raises one elongated arm, and the sigils flare.
Our magicstops. Mid-air. Like insects frozen in amber.
There’s a loudcrack!And then the magic reverses.
Sebastian’s spell rebounds and slams into him. He flies backward, hitting a support beam with a sickeningthunk. The way he crumples into a heap has my heart pushing at the back of my throat.
Wylder's vines wither to black rot in an instant. He curses, clutching his chest as the backlash hits.
My spirit fire turns against me at the same moment.
It wraps around my wrists like shackles, burning cold instead of hot. I scream, trying to smother it, but it digs deeper.
