John shifted and pinched. The spell slammed into their natural mage. She gasped in surprise. Magic rose within her hands to combat the spell.
Before she could, a throwing knife hilt blossomed red in the center of her chest. Reagan had finally gotten her shot off.
Mary Bell turned, pinched her own casing, shot the High Chancellor, and swiveled, spraying those near her. The spell took hold, sending a clawing blackness across their bodies that then shrank down, cracking bones.
The High Chancellor wailed before sound cut off. He fell, hitting the ground as their natural sank to her knees.
Surprisingly, unlike him, it wasn’t pain etched across her face. It was relief. She was happy this life was failing.
A chill washed over me, but I didn’t have time to lament on the life she must’ve lived. On what Emery and my parents had certainly saved me from.
The mages hadn’t even realized a traitor was in their midst before Mary Bell had another casing out, then another, hurrying forward and attacking the circle of mages surrounding us. On the other side, miraculously, John was doing the same thing, shooting the surviving mages, tearing them down with vile spells the left no room for error.
“Hurry, help them,” I said, pulling everything I had left to join the barrage against the mages who’d now recovered enough from their shock to reach for their spells.
“We got them. You get that damned magical wall down,” Reagan said, resuming her fight with her sword.
Thank God she didn’t need magic to take down an enemy. I yanked Emery toward the tear in the spell.
“What has taken you so long?” Callie demanded through the small hole she’d already created.
“Autocorrect.” I worked as fast as my shaking hands would allow, Emery by my side. “Mary Bell is in there. And John—”
“Filthy ingrates,” Dizzy said.
“No! They’re turning traitor on the Guild. They’re helping us!” I mingled our spell with that of the Bankses, enlarging it.
“I did always like John,” Dizzy said, changing on a dime. “A good head for strategy, didn’t I always say that? Very courageous.”
I fanned their spell’s power level as Emery added embellishments, our spell work clumsy with our fatigue. The edge peeled back farther, and the rest sizzled. Seams already weakened by Reagan’s magic tore. Holes enlarged. Finally, a pop, and the whole thing dissipated into the air.
Dizzying relief washed through me. Tears prickled my eyes.
“We’ve got it,” Callie yelled. “We’re in!”
A large gray wolf, splattered with blood, one ear half gone, coat covered in blood, shocked me with his powerful dual-colored gaze before running past me to the dying fight within. Vampires, some limping, many splattered or burned, ran in after him, then more shifters.
“Okay, now we’re talking,” Dizzy said, hurrying in to join the fray.
Limbs trembling and barely able to stand, I still turned back to the fight, intent on giving it everything I had.
That was when the tears started to fall.
The chaotic movement had slowed, and this time, the few who were still standing were on our side. We’d done it. We’d taken on the largest magical organization in the Brink, and we’d won.
Sobs of relief washed through me as Mary Bell and John were backed to the wall, their hands up, cornered by two very large vampires.
“Wait—” I started.
Mary Bell’s voice, confident and smooth, rose above the din. “You’ll want the vampire behind all of this.”
More people slowed, haggard and battle-beaten, and turned toward her. Mary Bell pointed at an open and empty door at the far end of the collection of buildings.
“The High Chancellor never outright mentioned him,” Mary Bell said, her eyes gleaming again. And this time I recognized that gleam for what it was—the joy of reliving her youth. Of being in the thick of the action. “But some of the special powers he had, and the little tricks… I’ve been around a long time. I know a bonded mage when I see one.”
Darius and Vlad zoomed forward at the same time, reaching the door at the exact instant another swampy white monster tried to surge out. They pinned him against the wall, their fangs dripping drool, the exhaustion momentarily sapped from their bodies.
The trapped vampire stilled, then relaxed. His skin fuzzed and changed, his body contorting, until a man form stood in its place. Darius and Vlad changed a moment later, still holding the other vampire captive.
“Isn’t this a surprise,” Vlad said with his light, musical tone. I stepped forward to get a better look, but my legs wobbled and gave out. I spilled onto the ground, my energy at rock bottom and my stomach growling with hunger.
“At least I made it to the end,” I muttered, seeing Emery’s hand reach down for me.
“We should get you home,” he said.
“No, I’m good. I just need a minute—”
Two thick black boots spattered with all kinds of unsavory things hit the ground in front of me. No hand reached down. No command to get up issued forth. But expectation oozed from him.
Cahal stared down at me with a face full of storm clouds. “You made it impossible for me to do my job, Penelope Bristol.”
Reagan, sagging against the wall to the right of me, started laughing.
“Why?” I took Emery’s hand and let him pull me up. “I’m alive. You’re alive. We’re good. You fulfilled your duty.”
Sparks flared in Cahal’s eyes. “We’re leaving. Now. I do not want to chance that anything else should arise from this situation.”
Without another word, he grabbed me like a sack of potatoes and threw me over his shoulder.
37
Near dawn, the front door burst open and vampires in their human form, wearing rumpled clothing not all the way buttoned or zipped, rushed into the house and out of the failing night. They didn’t glance my way or even nod, just turned for the hall without a word, getting to their safe haven.
“Hey,” I said, pushing myself to my feet and groaning from the ache in my body.
Cahal stood by the window with his arms crossed, staring at me. His face was stony again, but his eyes told me he wasn’t impressed with how the night had gone. The man didn’t say much, but that didn’t stop a person from knowing exactly what was on his mind.
A few more vampires ran in, these half-dressed, and turned toward the hall.
“What’s the news?” I called after them.
Reagan staggered in next, circles under her eyes, her hair disheveled, and tears and burns marring her clothes. She took off her fanny pack and dropped it on the floor before walking past me like a zombie and falling onto the couch.
“I need a whiskey,” she said.
Emery and Reagan hadn’t done a thing to stop Cahal from dragging me out of the compound. I hadn’t had enough energy to kick and scream, let alone zap him, but I had done an awful lot of threatening. When that failed to work, I’d resorted to purposefully annoying him, all the way back to the house in the car he’d chosen at random.
My mother had been intensely relieved to see me home, going so far as to hug Cahal for seeing me back safely. After hearing that our core group was okay, and that I had no other information because I’d been extracted too quickly, she trudged off to bed in exhaustion. Veronica, equally relieved, stayed up with me for a while, but exhaustion finally took her to bed.
I hadn’t even tried to sleep. I’d been sitting in the same chair, in utter silence, waiting for the others to come back so I could get some news.
“What happened?” I asked, heading to the door. I stopped when I saw Emery stagger in, his shirt torn and splattered with blood, his face weary.
When he saw me, a smile lit up his face. “Hi, love.” He spread his arms to put around me.
I half wanted to deck him for not stepping in when Cahal had ferreted me out of the battle zone, but he looked so happy and relieved. Instead, I fell into his arms and moved with him to the chair. He sank into it with a sigh before taking my hips and directing me onto his lap.
Darius walked in next, in his T-shirt and jeans, his hair styled just so, and only a small scratch on his neck to show that he’d been in a hairy battle near hours before.