Magic Rises(134)

The Iron Dogs were almost there.

I had one more power word left in me. One more. I wasn’t getting off this tower anyway. I pulled together what weak magic I had left and spat it out. “Osanda.” Kneel, you bastards.

The world turned red. The pain bent me in half. I slumped over the parapet. Magic burned my lips—blood streamed from my nose over my face.

Three Iron Dogs directly by the keep plunged down. The rest closed on Aunt B. My magic didn’t reach far enough. It didn’t reach all of them.

The first Iron Dog leaped, unnaturally high. He sailed over the flames, his human face turning into something monstrous, inhuman, and covered in needles. Aunt B jerked him out of the air, tore open his stomach, and threw him into the fire. He flailed, burning.

Run! Go, climb the wall, get out of here. Go!

A towering man charged at her from the left, swinging a huge blade, while another, smaller and faster one, lunged at her from the right. Aunt B grabbed the giant’s sword and tore it out of his hands. The smaller man sliced her side, and she backhanded him into the fire.

The giant grabbed at her. The bouda thrust her claws into his gut and wrenched his intestines out. He howled, his mouth gaping open, and she pushed him aside.

The Iron Dogs circled her, wary. Maybe she would get out of this. She had to get out of it.

Hibla raised her hand. A man behind her bowed his head and began to chant. A mage.

Aunt B shifted from foot to foot, watching them with red eyes.

Get out of there, I willed. Go!

The mage jerked his arms up and out. Three silver blades shot out of him, dragging silver chains behind them. Aunt B shied to the side, but the blades turned and pierced her chest and stomach, biting into the ground, their ends fusing at the last moment into a silver knot. For a second she stood frozen, the silver chains stretching behind her, wet with her blood.

Oh God.

The mage brought his arms together. The chains snapped taut, anchoring Aunt B in place. She strained, roaring—the silver was burning her. But the chains held. She could barely take a step.

Hibla waved her arm. Two Iron Dogs stepped forward with crossbows.

No, damn it, at least fight her. Fight her, you bastards.

The first two bolts tore into Aunt B, the impact shaking her. She snarled, straining.

Hibla nodded. I would find that bitch if I had to turn the entire fucking planet upside down. I would find her and I would kill her slowly.

The crossbowmen reloaded. Two more bolts tore through her. I jerked as if I’d been shot.

Another two.

There would be no more sundresses.

Two more bolts.

She would never see her grandchildren. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so badly, but my face was dry.

Two more bolts.

She screamed and screamed and they shot her. And I was stuck here on top of the tower. I couldn’t even help her.

Aunt B sagged. Her knees trembled. She lunged forward, her body bristling with arrows. She howled to the sky. The silver knot ripped through her stomach. Hibla shot forward, swinging a wide sword. The blade cut through Aunt B’s thick furry neck. Her head rolled to the ground.

She died. She was really dead.

They tossed her body aside like garbage and strained to raise the grate with the broken winch.

A dark beast charged out of the fire. The massive bear scattered the remaining Iron Dogs like bowling pins. Too late, Mahon. Too late.

I saw him rip into them, but staying upright was no longer an option. I sagged to the ground. My heartbeat was so loud in my ears. The bear would kill them all.

I wanted to see Curran again. I wanted to close my eyes and imagine us back at the Keep in our rooms making love on top of the ridiculous bed . . .

I had to get up. I had to get up and find him.

I would get up. I just needed a minute. Just one minute.

A lion’s roar rocked the night. It came from the right.

I rolled onto my knees. My arm hurt. The gashes on my right leg were bleeding like there was no tomorrow. Something vital was cut, because the leg didn’t want to hold my weight.

Crawling wasn’t an option. I struggled to get up. Easy does it. Come on, piece-of-shit legs. I could do this. I leaned on the wall and hauled myself upright. My right leg was going numb. If it’s not one leg, it’s the other. Just my luck.

On the tower forty feet below me, Hugh and Curran fought, silhouetted among the flames. Three Iron Dogs stalked across the roof, keeping their distance from Curran, trying to flank him. Five bodies of Iron Dogs and two vampires sprawled, motionless. Curran had killed them. He’d fought his way out of that room, and he’d killed them all, because whatever Hugh had left would be right there with him on this roof. Hugh never played fair.

Only Curran could’ve done this and survived.

Hugh limped, favoring his left side. Curran watched him. Hugh was a big man, but Curran in a warrior form towered over Hugh. His blood-soaked hide, usually gray, now was black and red against the flames.