“Fuck me,” Amaliya gasped. Her arm was useless, dangling at her side. Climbing to her feet, she growled in frustration.
It was difficult not to be distracted by Cian and the first demon squaring off against each other. In Cian’s hand was a glowing orb of some kind. Each time he took a swipe, the demon recoiled in horror. Yet, it wasn’t backing down, its flaming hands casting plumes of fire at Cian, which the vampire deftly avoided. The demon concentrating on Amaliya was thinner, faster, and incredibly tall.
Aimee’s orbs of magic smashed into a vampire leaping off the roof, rendering it into a figure of ash that exploded into a gray cloud on impact with the ground. Somewhere nearby Cassandra was swearing in time with the sound of hearty thwacks against flesh.
The demons moved even faster than vampires, skipping out of the range of Aimee’s attacks, and easily outmaneuvering Cian and Amaliya. While Cian was on the offensive, Amaliya was definitely on the defensive. Burning as much blood as she could, she tried to heal her arm. The skin and muscle refused to knit together, the pain nearly blinding. The fire erupting from the demon’s hand formed into a sword as it flashed a cruel smirk in her direction. It swept the flaming weapon toward her. Amaliya barely dodged out of the way, but the burning blade still left a swath of scorched skin along her back despite the near miss.
Amaliya stumbled, then felt someone grab her about the waist. The smell of Cian’s cologne and shampoo filled her nostrils. Arm around her waist, he kept the magical sphere in his hand between them and the two demons.
Chaos filled the world. Aimee battled a black witch that the ghosts had missed, purple and white orbs of magic flashing through the night. Jeff hacked at a vampire with an ax. Samantha stood in the doorway of her house wielding a pink gun and firing at something big and furry charging toward her. Alexia was tossing spell bags at the were and vampires while her brother rushed to help Jeff.
Anger welled up inside of Amaliya. Everything was out of control. Jerking free of Cian, she plunged her necromancy into the ground, but immediately felt resistance.
“What the fuck?”
Seconds later the yard lurched upward as stone spikes burst out of the grass. A stalagmite impaled one of the demons, and Cian took advantage of the moment to ram the glowing orb into its chest. Instantly, the demon was enveloped in white flames, then vanished in an agonized howl. The second demon retreated toward the remaining black witch. Aimee summoned a huge wave of white energy and hurtled it at both of them. The demon grabbed the witch, wrapping her in shadow, and vanished just before the magic hit them. The were-creature finally went down, its claws landing near Samantha’s bare feet.
The sudden silence was startling.
“Where’s the witch and demon?” Amaliya demanded, clutching her burned arm.
“Gone,” Aimee answered sounding disappointed.
Cian cast a worried look at Amaliya. “Are you okay?”
“Burned, but fine. And pissed. Something blocked my powers. And who the hell made those?” She gestured to the stone spikes.
“How am I going to explain them to the neighbors?” Samantha frowned, kicking the dead were-creature.
“Sorry about that,” a voice said from behind Amaliya.
The ground trembled and the stalagmites sank into the lawn leaving two blemishes of upturned earth.
Amaliya whipped about to see a tall, handsome black man with a clean-shaven head and well-groomed goatee. Wearing black slacks and a maroon shirt that matched his eyes, he looked vaguely familiar.
“The elemagus,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“Baptiste. Rachoń sent me.” He extended a hand.
“I couldn’t bring my dead because of you,” Amaliya said irritably ignoring his proffered handshake. Her arm was a mass of burned flesh and the pain was nearly unbearable.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to block you,” he said apologetically.
Samantha jumped over the dead were-creature and hurried over to Jeff. Meanwhile, Cassandra strolled over to her girlfriend, wincing as she walked with a slight limp.
“Let me see your arm.” Cian stepped closer to Amaliya, pocketing the glowing orb. Holding out his hand, he waited.
It bothered her how well he could read her moods. Amaliya had felt ineffectual toward the end of the battle and it made her angry. Cian seemed to sense it, or maybe he was reading her thoughts. Grumpily, she rested her hand in his. With gentle motions, he moved her arm about, surveying the damage.
“Aimee, how long will it take to heal?” Cian called out.
Aimee and Cassandra looked up from their embrace.
“That’s going to take a lot of blood. Demon fire is serious black magic.” Disengaging from her girlfriend, Aimee strode over to Amaliya. Leaning forward to examine the scorched skin, she winced. “Maybe two or three days of feeding.”
“Great.” Amaliya hated being in pain. It made her cranky and she detested how she kept shifting from one foot to the other in a fruitless effort to somehow diminish it. Cian stood close to her, but didn’t touch her. Again, she was impressed and annoyed with how well he knew her. She loathed being coddled.
“Is anyone else concerned that the black witches are missing?” Benchley asked. He stood near the spot where the witches had fallen after Samantha’s ghosts had pelted them with the spell bags.
“Where the hell is the ward?” Aimee asked, looking more than a little worried. Hands on her hips, she peered upward.
“I kinda broke it,” Amaliya confessed.
“You what?” Samantha’s eyes widened. “Is that why they got in?”
Amaliya shrugged. “Oops.”
“How?” Aimee demanded. “That was a hardcore spell. If you can break it, The Summoner will be able to.”
“I don’t know! I was trying to stop my fall when I landed on top of it after being ambushed by a stupid vampire.”
“You landed on it?” Aimee’s eyes narrowed. “You landed on it?”
“It’s only supposed to keep out the bad guys,” Benchley said in a low voice.
“I jumped through it once with no problem,” Amaliya said defensively. “And I was bleeding and fighting for my life when I fell on it the second time. I was trying to stop my fall, dug in my fingers, and then it wasn’t there and...how the fuck am I supposed to know? You’re the witch!” Amaliya frowned, irritably staring at her arm. “Fuck, this hurts.”
At last, Cian put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. “It’ll heal. Aimee, can you get another ward up?”
Crossing her arms over her breasts, Aimee shook her head. “No, I don’t have the stuff for it.”
“It was broken anyway,” Benchley sniffed. “We couldn’t defend ourselves. Sam and Amaliya’s magic was deflected off it. We were trapped.”
“Dammit,” Aimee muttered. “I’ll have to come up with a new version of it. That could take a few days.”
“You can do it, babe,” Cassandra said, giving the witch’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“We need to leave now,” Jeff decided. “Samantha, get Beatrice. We’re going. The ward is down and I’m not waiting around for a second attack.”
“I agree.” Baptiste moved toward the were-creature. “But we need to take care of this.”
Amaliya sent her power into the earth, felt the dead answer, and asked them to take one of their own. The were-creature vanished into the earth before Baptiste reached it.
Tilting his head in her direction, Baptiste said, “I see.”
“You and I have to share territory. We need to work on that.” Amaliya tried not to sound as pissed off as she felt.
Samantha and Jeff vanished inside her house while Benchley and Alexia grabbed their stuff from the living room. After pressing a quick kiss to Cian’s lips, Amaliya hurried through the house to claim her shoes. Cassandra, Aimee, Baptiste, and Cian kept watch outside. She found the Louboutins in the kitchen where she had left them. They were dirty, but not ruined. Leaning over to pick them up, she grunted at the agonizing burning of her arm. No matter how much of her power she directed into her limb, it was healing at a snail’s pace.