Chapter Thirty-Seven
Enzo
I had to keep these bastards away from Joy. Every second they were focused on me was another second she had to stay hidden and safe. I just hoped she'd use her shadows to protect herself if anyone got past our defenses. Through the chaos, I caught sight of Morden with Joy, his dark form weaving through the battle with purpose. Good. He'd keep her safe.
Relief flickered briefly before reality crashed back down on me.
Like the Dark Demons before them, the Unseelie army was pouring out of the portal in an endless stream—hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers flooding onto bayou soil. This was going to be just as deadly and desperate as the last supernatural war with Cormac, and we were already exhausted, already bloodied, already pushed to our limits.
Five Unseelie soldiers broke away from the main force and rushed me with coordinated precision, their swords gleaming in the moonlight as they swung at me from multiple angles. Steel sang through the air, aiming to cut me down where I stood.
I dodged their strikes, moving faster than a human eye could follow. The world slowed around me as I tapped into every ounce of vampire speed I possessed. I twisted between their blades like water, feeling the wind of near-misses brush against my skin.
The first soldier overextended on his swing. Fatal mistake. I grabbed his head with both hands and twisted with cold precision, snapping his neck with a sickening crack. His body crumpled in a heap before his companions even registered what had happened.
Four left. And a whole army still coming through behind them.
Gunnar descended from above like an avenging angel. He landed silently behind one of the remaining guards, his movements fluid and precise. Before the Unseelie could react, Gunnar wrapped his muscular arm around the man's throat in a chokehold, applying pressure to the carotid artery with practiced efficiency. The soldier's eyes went wide with shock, then rolled back into his head as consciousness fled. His sword clattered to the ground as he collapsed in a boneless heap.
Three left.
I didn't give them time to regroup or call for reinforcements. I lunged at the one closest to me with predatory speed, closing the distance before he could raise his blade in defense. My fangs extended fully as I seized him by the shoulders and sank them deep into his throat. His scream died in a wet gurgle as I drained him dry, his Unseelie blood flooding my mouth—different from human blood, thicker, tinged with magic that made my senses flare even brighter.
His body went limp in my grasp within seconds, completely drained. I let him drop to the sodden ground and turned to face the last soldier, blood dripping from my chin. His confident expression had shifted to pure terror.
He should run. But he wouldn't make it far.
Gunnar lunged at the terrified Unseelie and grabbed him by the throat. His eyes blazed red as he drained the soldier in seconds, the body crumpling at his feet.
"We've got to close that portal." I wiped the blood off my face, watching more soldiers pour through. "Drive them back."
"The Anchoring Obsidian stone," Gunnar said, breathing hard. "If we could get it and threaten to destroy it, the queen would have no choice but to retreat. Without it, she can't stay in this realm."
"Where is it?"
"Marsha must have the stone.”
I grinned coldly. "Good. Then we have her where we want her—tangled in Morden's shadows inside the cathedral."
"But he has to draw back his shadows for us to get it," Gunnar pointed out. "And if Marsha gets free..."
"Then we wound the queen first," I said, the plan forming quickly. "Make her desperate to get back to the Elder Dimension where she can heal safely. She won't risk dying here—she'll call for retreat to save herself."
"That could work," Gunnar agreed. "Wound her badly enough, and she'll prioritize survival over conquest."
"Now why would I give up the stone to you two assholes?" The voice dripped with venom and dark amusement.
I whirled around, my muscles tensing for combat. Fuck. Marsha stood twenty feet away, freed from Morden's shadows. How the hell had she done this? Must have used a dark spell. Her dress was torn and dirty, her hair wild around her face, but her eyes blazed with malicious triumph. Viciousness shone in those dark depths—the look of someone who'd been humiliated and was eager for revenge.
"How the hell did you—" Gunnar started, his wings spreading defensively.
"Did you really think a few shadows could hold me forever?" Marsha laughed, the sound bitter and cruel. She held up the Anchoring Obsidian stone, the black surface seeming to drink in the moonlight. "Morden's good, I'll give him that. But I'm better."
The stone pulsed with dark energy in her palm, and I realized with sickening clarity that our entire plan had just collapsed. Without that stone, we had no leverage, no way to force the queen's retreat.
And Marsha knew it. The satisfaction radiating from her was palpable as she took a step backward toward the portal, putting distance between us.
"Catch me if you can, boys." Her smile was all teeth and malice. "But I wouldn't recommend it. The queen has your precious Joy and her traitor father cornered. Come and watch them die.”
