Page 19 of Mending Mayhem
“I’m the only shadow witch in Salem. I never have to use it.”
The battle rounded the corner, and I stopped, holding up a hand. “We’ll tell them Chaos and I have that power too. They can’t know about the demons.”
“You need to find the phoenix spell. Let the Boston witches take care of Boston. It’s not your job.”
“These rifts are happening because of us. That makes it our job.” I strode toward a witch who rummaged through a bag, no doubt looking for a freezing spell. “It looks like you guys could use some help.”
She snapped her head up, her eyes widening before she shot another woman a chastising glare. “Gray! Our cloak.”
“What? It’s still in place.” Gray looked me up and down. “How can you see through it?”
“It’s an active power,” I mimicked Shade’s words. “I have to focus to use it.”
Shade gave me the stink eye. “I have it too.”
“As do I,” Chaos said. “If you will bring the other two into your shadow, we will assist you.”
The soldier rippled toward us, and I threw a fireball, slamming it into his chest. He screeched, his cloak slipping just long enough for me to see the paralyzing venom dripping from his pincers.
“Holy Hecate,” Gray said. “Olga, she’s a Holland.”
“No shit,” Olga said. “Hey, Adrian. We’ve got company.”
The High Priest whirled toward me, his brow slamming down over his deep-set eyes. “What are you doing here? We don’t need your help.”
“Ah!” The fourth witch flew backward, his shoulder slamming into a wall before a massive gash formed in his neck. The hyena man lashed out a taloned hand, slicing into the invisible fae’s soft spot.
Bug-man screeched again, dropping the witch and turning on the beastie.
“Are you sure?” I scrunched my nose. “It kinda looks like you do.”
His chest puffed as he straightened his spine. “I’m sure.”
I nodded toward his fallen witch. “Do you have an antidote for that? We do.”
“I haven’t found anything that works,” Olga said.
“My sister can help him if you’ll bring her into the shadow.”
Gray rolled her fog outward, enveloping Ash and Miles. They darted toward the fallen witch and administered the antidote while the hyena man railed on the fae. Adrian shot me a steely glare before swirling his hand in the air, creating a little tornado and sending it toward the beasties. It caught the hyena and whirled him around before throwing him three yards away.
“Adrian is an imbecile. If he were wise, he would allow the alastor to kill the fae.”
“Alastor?” I asked.
Olga flashed a puzzled look. “That’s Adrian, our High Priest.”
“An alastor is an upper-mid-level demon. They are skilled fighters and despise the fae almost as much as I do.”
“The hyena man. It’s an alastor demon,” I said, quickly recovering from my faux pas. “You should let it kill the fae.”
“How do you know what it is, light witch?” Adrian’s words dripped with more venom than the fae’s pincers. “Why don’t you go plant a flower or make some tea? This is our battle. Leave the fighting to the real witches.”
I narrowed my eyes. Leave the fighting to the “real” witches? Oh, no he didn’t.
I gathered fire in my palms, bringing them together so the flames danced between them, growing bigger and hotter with my anger. I could show him a real witch. “How many fae have you killed, dark witch?”
Mayhem’s growl rumbled between my ears. “Now this is an emotion I’m familiar with. You should rip him open and burn him from the inside out.”