Page 21 of Mending Mayhem
“Impressive move. You’ll have to teach it to me when I reform.”
“Gladly.” She yanked the dagger from the fae’s neck as the alastor rose to his feet. Poisonous blood dripped from his nostrils, and he shook his head, splattering it around him.
“Don’t touch his blood.”
“I didn’t plan to.” She marched toward the alastor, the dagger at her side, ready to thrust it into the fiend’s heart, and for a moment, I felt remorse.
The alastor would easily slip through the rift and return to the Underworld at my command, but I understood the need for anonymity. Even dark witches despised demons they couldn’t control.
Ember’s grip tightened, her muscles coiling for the strike, but the imbecile High Priest created another tornado and sucked the alastor away before she could thrust her blade.
“Are you effing kidding me?” Anger surged through her veins, and I reveled in it.
Any doubt that the universe created this witch for me dissolved as she tossed her dagger, handle over blade, and caught it, adjusting her grip and striding toward the High Priest.
“We can take care of the fae,” Miles said.
“Don’t,” she nearly growled. “I’ll handle it.”
“Kill the High Priest. Take the Boston Society of Magic as your own.”
“I don’t want Boston.” She slowed her pace. “I don’t want to fight.”
Lucifer have mercy. I’d bled into her consciousness again. I couldn’t help myself. Being inside this warrior goddess while she battled her enemies created a feeling of elation I’d never experienced before. Tensing as much as a disembodied entity could, I pulled my magic back, gathering it into a ball of menace and tucking it into the recesses of my consciousness.
She gave her head a hard shake, regaining her senses and continuing her march toward the foolish High Priest. “What are you going to do? Wind him to death?”
Olga cowered on the ground with her spell kit while Gray strained, her face pinching with the exertion. “I can’t hold the shadow much longer.”
“I’ll help you.” Shade offered his hand.
She eyed it with skepticism before nodding and accepting the offer.
The High Priest raised his hands toward the alastor, chanting in an ancient tongue. I recognized the incantation immediately.
“He is trying to gain control of the demon. You must stop him before the spell takes hold.”
“With pleasure.” Ember’s fingers tightened around the dagger, and the ball of menace I tucked away in my psyche threatened to explode. She could pierce his heart, gut him and take his liver and a prize, making the coven believe a fae had killed him.
I forced my malice into its place, allowing Ember full control. She hurled the dagger, but instead of piercing Adrian’s chest, the handle hit his head, making him stumble.
“You missed.”
“No, I didn’t.” She planted her boot into his stomach, and he doubled over. Her uppercut to his chin knocked him off his feet.
The magical tornado ceased its spin, and the alastor dropped to the ground, landing on his feet and rushing her. My goddess spun, jabbing her dagger into the demon’s abdomen right where I told her to and twisting the blade with an upward motion.
The alastor wheezed, his eyes bulging a moment before he turned to mist. The rift sucked his essence into the Underworld, and Ember stomped toward the fae. Ash arched a brow as she approached, but she held her tongue, saving her berating words for another time.
My witch straddled the fae, lifting an armored plate and thrusting her blade beneath it, piercing her enemy’s heart and draining his life force.
She straightened and turned to the High Priest. “That’s Salem five, Boston zero. Who’s the real witch now?”
Adrian rose, clutching his stomach with one hand, his chin with the other. “Brute force doesn’t make you a witch.”
She shrugged one shoulder dismissively. “Maybe not, but it does vanquish demons and kill fae. Do you want our help or not?”
His expression tightened, his gaze dropping to the ground before he met her eyes. “I suppose we can share information, but then you’ll return to Salem and let us protect our city.”