Page 20 of Of Flame and Fury

“What the fuck?” Koda barks out.

The next strike splits the beam above the entryway. The Brit looks up, then down, as if stunned it would be raining plaster on such a fine evening.

“Grendal,” Misha calls. His patience is about as controlled as mine. “What is happening?”

Grendal tilts his head. “Did you say something, Master Aleksandr?”

The collision that follows is so severe, chunks of the ceiling come down all over the grand staircase, peppering the floor at our feet and coating the air with dust.

“What is happening over there?” Grendal demands. “Is it snowing? Is it part of this ridiculous show?”

Grendal is oblivious to the roars, chants, and the cursing flying out of my mouth. “We’re being attacked,” I yell. “Attacked.”

“We have snacks,” the Brit replies, like I’m the stupid one here. “Butweonly know them as hors d’oeuvres.”

I break away from the group when a faint and familiar growl reaches me from the ballroom.

Gemini loses his mind, charging after me. “Where are you going?”

“It’s Bren,” I say. I skitter around theweres. They only allow me through because they’re in charge of keeping thingsawayfrom Celia, not preventing those making a mad dash.

“Dude,” Shayna calls to me. “Are you sure?” Her gaze bounces to Koda and Celia. They shake their heads. “We can’t hear him.”

Bren’s yelp slaps at my ears. He never demonstrates pain or weakness unless there’s a damn good reason. “It’s him,” I insist over the bedlam. “He’s on the other side fighting something big, we just can’t see him.”

“Genevieve,” Aric hollers. “Release the spells, all of them. It’s the only way to stop them from being used against us.”

“We can’t,” she yells. Frustration and embarrassment battle in her features. “Nothing we’re doing is working.”

Theweresroar, snarling at the witches, their inner beasts perceiving them as enemies. A polar bear lurks forward, swatting a staff from a witch’s hands when she points it at him.

“Stand down,” Gemini orders.

I pivot, walking backward as I speak. “This isn’t on the witches. Someone else is in control, and he’s stronger than Destiny and all the witches.”

Shit. He’s stronger than all of us. Something squeezes my chest, and that familiar sense that captivated me earlier returns. He?Itis ahe.

“Taran?” Gemini asks.

I barely feel my hand rise as I attempt to stop his questioning. When I was with Bren, there was a sense of magic weaved into the disorientation spell. I didn’t think it was witch magic, not in the traditional sense I feel around Vieve and the others, but in a way that’s unique and that I knew intimately not too long ago.

My eyes widen, and I all but keel over. “I know who’s here,” I rasp.

Gemini clasps my shoulders. “Who?”

I practically kick myself for not seeing it sooner. “It’s Fate. Fate has come for all of us.”

Chapter Eight

Johnny Fate, like my sisters and me, is an oddity in the world. As rare as Destinies are, Fates are almost unheard of.

Before Johnny, there were only ever five documented in history. It should be a good thing, right? Like that spotted zebra, precious and extraordinary? Oh, no, it’s not. Destinies and Fates can’t coexist. Their powers brutally clash and interfere with Earth’s natural balance. There’s also that whole belief that their mutual presence triggers the start of unspoken evils, but let’s not fuss over that now.

I’m not simply yelling as I push forward, I’m abusing my vocal cords. “Johnny Fate is here. He’s the one messing with magic and sending these creatures.”

I can’t be sure anyone hears me over the growing screams and calls to magic. Anarchy reigns as the body count rises. Two fleeing vampires are sucked up through a ventilation shaft. Blood from the mounting carnage at the entrance pools at our feet. How many witches are dead now? Seven? Ten? They were formidable beings, and they never stood a chance.

Another howl of agony echoes from Bren. “Bren!” I yell. “Where are you? Tell me where you are.”