Page 167 of Huntress

“Go!” the assassin bellowed at Steve. “Whatever you’re seeing, fight it!”

He shoved Steve forward, forcing him to move while he and Elsie kept the yotes at bay. Both of her daggers were out, staying in constant motion, careful not to fall into a pattern they’d learn and take advantage of.

Saint obsessed over her with a single-minded intensity through their bond from his position ahead, his frustration ever present in her mind. If the scent of a wolf killer’s magic was in the area, the coyotes would never give chase, and Elsie’s plan would fail. They couldn’t risk Saint’s scent lingering on her, so the captain used plenty of scent-erasing soap to make sure not a trace of him remained.

Steve screamed, the rage-filled, guttural sound of a man fighting his personal demons alongside the yotes clamoring around in his brain. He vaulted through the woods, losing focus and direction, forgetting all about the rendezvous point where their companions lay in wait.

Elsie fended off a yote, then parried a strike from Steve’s sword, pushing him back in the right direction.

“Focus, Steve! It isn’t real,” she called out to him, blocking another demon materializing out of the shadows. She missed the one behind her.

Sharp pain in the back of her calf tripped her up, and by the time she whirled to attack, it disappeared. A thin line of blood trailed down into her boot.

“Fuck,” she hissed. “Trenton! One got me!”

‘Too slow,” a creepy, whispered voice snaked through her mind. “They’re going to die, and it’s all your fault.’

Trenton shoved her forward. “Do not stop!”

Elsie shook her head and kept moving. Saint lay on the ground in front of her, the light leaving his eyes as a shadow yote ripped out his throat.

“Not real, not real, not real,” she chanted, leaping over her dying mate. The demons would have to come up with more realistic illusions to get under her skin. They couldn’t fool her with his death when his anger was kindling across their bond.

Cold floated over her, settling across her body like a clammy second skin. Cornick stood over her, bottle in hand. She flinched as the acid hit her skin, but she kept running.

‘Deeper, dig deeper.’

Cornick again, a cold smile on his face as he released an army of chimeras on human children. Their screams sent shivers up her spine, but before the horror fully faded, the necromancing piper stood before her, fondling himself while sauntering toward her.

“I’ll fuck every hole in your body, then devour your flesh, leaving just enough for you to watch. When I’m done with your corpse, I’ll fuck your skull one last time. Your reward for providing a delicious meal,” his voice echoed through her brain. Elsie gagged. If only Saint hadn’t shared that specific detail.

“He’s dead, he’s been dead for a year now. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead.” She blinked heavily, forcing her way out of the vision in time to avoid running face-first into a tree. Another burst of cold washed over her, and she moved automatically, dagger slicing, and for one heart-leaping moment the blade caught on something before it disappeared.

Steve slashed at everything like a crazed man, but he kept bulldozing forward. A deep frown was etched on his face, and his hand shook with every strike, but he pushed through the visions and whispers.

“Now!” Trenton commanded as they crossed an invisible line. Elsie’s head snapped up, and she jumped into the branches of the nearest tree, Trenton and Steve doing the same.

The shadow yotes burst through at the same moment Riven threw a glass bottle that shattered against the ground. The mage shouted a phrase in the ancient language, and searing light exploded across the area, banishing all shadows. She raised her hands in a quick motion, and the barrier she’d been working with Perrie to learn slammed into place.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and no shadows to escape into, the yotes were trapped in their solid forms.

Marley, Saint, and Grady dropped to join Elsie’s team and bring the fight to the demons. They squealed with fear when Saint hit the ground, scattering to the edges of the circle as they desperately sought a way out. The second they realized there was no escape, they changed tactics, teaming up in three groups to go after the hunters directly.

Saint fell into step with Elsie so seamlessly and naturally that Grady stopped to stare at them. She pelted forward, daggers ready, while he streaked along beside her, claws out and prepared.

They switched places at the last second, Elsie flanking one of the coyotes while Saint took it head-on. She buried a dagger between its ribs, and Albright stood looming over her.

Elsie looked at the blood on her hands, then at Saint, blood spilling from between his lips. She dropped the dagger onto the pine-needle-covered ground. Screams and wails reverberated around her, and it took her too long to realize one of them had come from her.

“Mistress,” Saint whispered urgently, pressing the dagger back into her hand. “It’s not real.”

The dead wolfhound was a coyote, and Saint stood in front of her, those beautiful brown eyes filled with anxious worry. She nodded, and they moved together, streaking after the next one.

Trenton stayed close to Steve, keeping an eye on him, watching and ready to interfere if needed. Elsie looked their way, catching the warrior shaking his head, trying to block out the illusions.

She and Saint took down another, and she turned to the final demon, who was going hard after Steve. He held back for only a moment, then his face hardened, and his sword flashed in the harsh light as he picked up speed. Steve drove the sword into the demon’s spine, then its side before slitting its throat. He stabbed it again and again, falling to his knees as he slashed and cleaved like a mad butcher.

Breathing in a loud, ragged struggle, Steve dragged himself to his feet. Blood had splattered all over his uniform, his arms up to his elbows completely awash in red. He spat on the yote’s dead body, wiping his chin. Sweating and shaking, he let the tip of his sword rest on the ground.