Page 157 of Magic of the Damned

Listening to the exchange, I felt there was a level of undeserved self-righteousness.

Not to be that person. Screw it, I’m totally that person. The hypocrisy slayer. I had every intention of pointing out that by Madeline’s logic, Helena and Areleus should receive the same punishment since they were the first defectors.

“The concessions that we made in the past will stand. We will not agree to more.”

Areleus remained unfazed. “You will,” he asserted in an unwavering tone that didn’t invite further discussion.

Madeline clenched her jaw, aware that she had no basis for refusal because the royals were the only ones who could get them some semblance of normal by getting rid of the Dark Caster. But it would introduce a new normal, returning them to the royals’ rule. No more autonomy.

Dominic pressed his hand into my back, guiding me toward the exit, with Anand close at his side. Dominic’s withdrawal emboldened Areleus, who produced a contract that the supernaturals would be blood obligated to uphold. This was the part of their interaction that I welcomed and never wanted to witness again. After this issue was resolved, I hoped to emerge from my home to a world that was oblivious to all the creatures that went bump in the night… and the day.

CHAPTER 6

Just as we made it out the room, a crash caused Dominic and Anand to stop and quickly return to the room. I stayed where I was, which gave me the vantage of seeing everything but not being part of it. The Seer who predicted our doom was crumpled in a heap on the floor, near the destroyed wall. Shades filed into the room along with a flurry of aggressive movement and magic. The unique sounds of shifters taking on their animal form soon followed.

One of the winged creatures was like a bird of prey, descending on one of the wolf shifters whose muscular body didn’t hinder his ability to swiftly lunge out of the shade’s way. The shade countered with a burst of magic whizzed at the creature to no effect. I wasn’t sure whether in the shade’s absence of being around shifters he’d forgotten their magic immunity, or whether it was something he’d try every chance he got, to determine if that had changed.

There were people with the shades. I gathered it was more shades who’d taken on human form. I had no idea why they would. Was it for the purpose of deceit, and was a human body a more adaptable form for fighting, allowing them to use the new form and magic to their advantage? Another shade in human form sped toward a vampire, who flashed its elongated teeth before charging. They crashed in a fury of strikes and punches before the shade, with a hip toss, landed the vampire on the floor. The shade placed his hand at the vampire’s chest, like Dominic had done. The vampire convulsed several times and made a gurgled sound before he exploded into a puff of gray mist. I moved farther away, putting as much distance as I could between me and the violence and fighting, negotiating the flying bodies and aggressive magic, unable to determine who was winning.

As the fighting continued, it was too difficult to keep track of Dominic. Panic swept through me when I lost him. I searched the crowd and caught sight of Anand, who had given up hiding his magical abilities and was using it to corral the shades away from some of the supernaturals who were being overpowered. Those who knew him as a shifter now saw him as a being with the ability to control them. Instead of appreciation, I noted shock and apprehension from them; it explained why he chose to live with Dominic as opposed to living among them. Moving my attention from Anand, I finally found Dominic in the crowd. He was focused on a large man who’d drawn his lips back to expose his fangs. His attention quickly moved to the vampire’s claws.

Emory, in his sleek, vicious animal form, caught a shade unaware and incapacitated it with his claws. It died in a macabre display of violence that drove me to look away. He turned the same demonstration of gruesome aggression on a witch acolyte of the Dark Caster. I stopped tracking Emory’s whereabouts, slotting him into the category of those most likely to survive this.

Three menacing shades swooped in through a hole in the wall. One snatched up Emory with his claws. Dominic reacted with a magical spear that pierced through the creature’s body. It thrashed and writhed in pain as he set it ablaze with a fiery blast of energy, forcing it to drop Emory who plummeted toward the ground at an alarming speed. Quick to react, every movement of Dominic’s hand guided him through the air with skillful precision, slowing his descent to a safe landing. Dominic then lashed out with fire at the creature’s chest, resulting in an explosion of heat that burned the shade.

Anand moved forward with unrestrained ferocity, taking his assertion to heart that the royals and I wouldn’t die, by intervening between the shade who’d set its eyes on me.

From my location just outside the door, I was in less danger of being hit by the hurling bodies, the indiscriminate firing of magic, or a wayward kick, elbow, or fist, but my panicked heartbeat wouldn’t stop thrashing. It was necessary to stay on high alert. In the mesh of bodies on the floor and bodies launched through the room, I again lost sight of Dominic. Frantically scanning, I found him ending a fight with a vampire who’d sided with the Dark Caster.

Sorting through allies and enemies was becoming increasingly difficult. When I scoped a witch, vampire, or shifter, I wasn’t sure whose side they were on. But I determined that consistently, if they were an enemy, they tended to be a vampire or witch. It spoke to the loyalty of shifters Dominic had told me about. They favored rules and order and were less likely to go against the others. And they must benefit the most from humans not knowing of their existence.

No one could deny that the impending victory was the result of having Anand and the royals with them. With the low numbers left of the Dark Caster’s acolytes, I expected the allies to go for complete annihilation of any survivors, but when Madeline and three other witches came to a paralyzed halt, I wondered if they’d found empathy for their enemies. Terror and disbelief etched over their faces. I followed their eyes to the woman who’d emerged at the other side of the room. Not through a door or hole, just appearing, her energy changing the dynamics of the space, cascading through the area, drowning it in her immensity. The unique aura that accompanied Dominic and his family exuded from her. Distinctive, strong, and dominating. Celeste. Without the restraints of the spells that kept her imprisoned, the feel of her magic was visceral.

Squaring her shoulders added inches to her five-ten frame. Silver-blonde hair was twined in a French braid. Her striking features made determining her age difficult. She moved with a lithe grace, a smile inching across her face. She was a new and disturbing player in the game. With all the changing alliances and objectives, I had no idea what to expect from her.

The same dilemma flashed over the witches’ expressions.

Celeste raised her hand and her mouth moved quickly, spitting out words, an illuminating ring forming around her as the door slammed closed. Tendrils of gray that I’d seen before, which pulled oxygen from the room, slithered and migrated at a steady, controlled rate toward the cluster of people. Despite her silence, Celeste’s intentions were quite clear and expressed prolifically through her magic.

She wanted everyone dead.

Helena sped toward the enclosed witch. A silverish stream flowed from her and battered at the illuminated enclosure around Celeste. Her abrasive, haughty smile taunted Helena as the protective field held. The vampires didn’t need oxygen; they would not be affected, but everyone else would.

Helena’s petulance with denial of anything served in her favor. Determination fueled her. Her brow creased as she walked around the enclosure, studying it. Pressing her hand to it, occasionally gasping as she began to succumb to the magic that was drawing the air from the room. Witches worked to minimize its effect while struggling not to fall victim to it. Color leached from their faces, beads of sweat forming on their brows. Helena looked at Dominic and then at her father, and with a concerted effort a cyclonic wave of magic formed as theirs met, circling the enclosure, battering into it until it fell from Celeste. With an imperceptible explosion of movement, Helena’s hands wrapped around Celeste’s throat, claws out and seconds from making the kill despite Dominic’s vocal objections. He was next to Helena, taking hold of the offending clawed hand and pulling the other away from Celeste’s neck. From Celeste’s pallid coloring, Helena was crushing her windpipe.

“You can’t kill her,” he gritted out.

“No, you can’t. I don’t care about the oath you made with them. She will die.” The moment of discord gave Celeste the opportunity to move from their immediate grasp and display her adroit magical skills as she resurrected the barrier and pushed out the oxygen-depriving mist.

“They will all die. You all will.” Her sweet melodious tone contrasted with her cruel behavior. The only thing I could determine was that Celeste was a magical sociopath whose actions were self-serving rather than on behalf of the Dark Caster. She wanted everyone dead. She locked eyes with a vampire whose confidence in his safety showed in his dark eyes.

Her taut lips lifted into a cruel smile. “Verum mors.” I had no idea what it meant, but it struck fear onto the vampire’s face. Another attempted to move but found her feet affixed to the floor. Panic was woven into every expression that moved over the vampire’s face.

The royals went to work on removing the enclosure again but seemed to have more difficulty. Celeste was proving not only tenacious but adaptive, able to change the spell enough so the same tactics didn’t work again. A confident smile bloomed as the mist crept over the room, presenting a greater challenge for the witches.

My mind was a buzz of bad ideas on how to help. I hated feeling so useless. My only option was to stay alive and do whatever necessary not to be a burden so no resources or magic would be directed to saving me.

Backing away from the mist that inched in my direction, I bumped up against a body behind me. I turned to face a woman whose curly, mahogany hair with reddish highlights was pulled into a low bun. Warm peach undertones gave her heart-shape face a pleasantness that belied the blaze of insistent urgency in her hazel eyes and the firm grasp she’d placed on my arm.

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