Page 22 of Of Flame and Fury
I’m swarmed by a group of vampires, which is the only reason I don’t flip off Ileana. I lift my left arm and point, my fingertip lighting up like E.T.’s crazy cousin Spielberg doesn’t like to talk about.
“Uh-uh-uh,” I say. “Now is not a good time to piss me off.”
They retreat when my fire swirls the length of my arm. In truth, I couldn’t take on this many vamps at once. Not without more space and plenty of fire. Except, these pretty faces dolled up in their Sunday best don’t know that, and sometimes you have to talk a big game to get your shit done.
“Bren,” Emme calls.
I mutter a curse. Emme is exhausted and hurt and almost out of time.
My magic feels my distress and feeds the misty globe. The werecheetah sets to pounce. He backs away when my little friend rumbles, and several bolts of lightning crackle within it.
“You’re insane, Karen,” he hisses. “You’ll blow us all to hell.”
“I know what I’m doing.”I think. “Reveal yourself,” I command. “Show me where you are.”
The ball of mist sizzles with lightning and rumbles like a brewing storm that promises disaster. Gemini breaks through the barrier separating the foyer and ballroom as I race to the center of the ballroom. My original arm didn’t have the physical strength I need. But Sparky here is everything and more.
Everyone scatters except for Gemini, who lifts me in the air by my waist. I slam dunk the ball into the floor as he brings me down. It imbeds into the marble, casting streaks of light across the room like a disco ball. Uri barrels forward, stopping short when Gemini releases an unearthly growl, and he gets a good look at the virtual weapon at my feet.
I cover my head and crouch, feeling the weight of Gemini’s body shielding mine a breath before my nuclearized globe of magic cracks and explodes in one mighty blow.
The strength it takes to break through the veiling spell is like a collision of trains at all sides. Windows shatter outward, and the ceiling comes crashing down.
Roaring, yelling, and hissing ensues. I glance up when Gemini charges into the fray,changinginto a giant midnight wolf. Gemini races on all fours, his claws scratching through the floor as he charges. He joins his twin, tackling the creature who has Emme.
The creature—the Nyte, I should say, resembles Tim Burton’s Tweedledum, only naked with a row of eyes that circle and spin around his egg-shaped bald head. He releases Emme from the impact of the wolves and rolls several feet away.
Emme lands in a heap, not moving, and her limbs twisted in odd directions.
“Emme.” I race toward her, grinding to a halt when Bren in wolf form thrusts the creature he’s fighting just in front of me.
This Nyte is covered with mouths riddled with fangs where her eyes, breasts, knuckles, andeverythingelseshould be. The bite marks littering Bren’s body ooze. He’s missing chunks of fur and muscle; the exposed bone on his hind leg appears shiny against the dim light.
My breath hitches.Thisis what had him.
I throw my hand forward, sending a long stream of fire spiraling into the Nyte’s stomach.
The creature lights up like a torch, the scent of smoking meat filling the room. She shrieks, not in pain, butrage. She takes off in a sprint, gunning for me, the multiple mouths suckling as though they can already taste me.
The bolts of lightning that strike from my fingertips are larger and scarier than I’m used to. It fries the creature midair, the entirety of her body shattering in moist portions.
I back away from the remains, hauling ass to where Emme lies. Bren, injured and close to collapsing, trails me, snarling savagely, his eyes darting side to side.
The dwindling fire that remains of my globe casts shadows along the wall. It’s then I see them, more creatures attacking or being torn apart by the guests.
Winged creatures, closer to demons than anything that belongs on earth, swoop down, lifting anyone they can get their claws into. Their reptilian bodies are covered with armor, and gold stingers protrude from their lengthy and thin tails. Two work together to capture a vampire. The vamp hisses, flailing her knife-length nails. She cuts one Nyte at the ankles and flips, straddling the other and breaking through its sternum. She manages to tear out the Nyte’s heart and kill it. Its friend avenges it, puncturing the stinger through the vampire’s back and out through her chest.
The vampire falls with a thud, twitching wildly. She must be old, since she’s still alive, and she must be something special. A horde of vampires attack the winged Nyte, bringing it down where it hovers near the remnants of the ceiling. The horde shreds it into large mangled bits. One of the vampires, another female, offers a bloody piece to the injured vamp. She sinks her fangs into it and spits it out. “Not blood,” she says.
Whatever these creatures originally were, they weren’t human. “Jesus, Johnny. What did you do?”
I hop over more dissected parts, someweres, some vamps, some Nytes. The Nytes vary in appearance and ability, and they’re everywhere. I’m uncertain if they appeared in response to my magic or if they were present the whole time, hiding and waiting to kill.
A random and roaming hand snags my ankle. I scream, ’cause that’s what you do when something like that grabs you. I kick it off me and curse at it. It lands palm up, rights itself, and scuttles back at me. I bring down my heel several times, trying to stomp it. It darts out of the way and tries to grab me again. A sense of satisfaction fills me when I jump and the small bones crunch beneath my weight.
“Ow!Ka-ren.”
My evil grin vanishes. I whirl around. A vamp with no limbs leans against the wall. “I’m just trying to get your attention.” She motions with a flick of her chin. “Something’s trying to eat your sister, Emily.”