Page 117 of Stroke of Shadows

“What am I, a fucking babysitter?” he snarled, but he immediately stalked toward her. He yanked at her hand, checking the wound beneath.

“Hey, hands off, big guy!” she sneered, pushing at his larger form. He didn’t move an inch.

Jax growled out a response, but Sythe was already moving. He called to the other part of his soul, to his beast, who always watched from behind his eyes. There’d been a struggle; red handprints along the walls and a few of the paintings were hanging at an angle. The sound of fighting echoed around him at every angle, the walls shaking from the impact.

A shift of air, and Sythe turned, the blade that was about to stab through his head missing. A pop, a small hole appearing between his eyes before the Skull fell to the side, the back of his head exploding.

Sythe turned to where the window once was, noticing a glint high in the building opposite.

‘Fuck. Remind me not to piss off your mate, Ti.’

Sythe could feel his brother’s amusement in his mind.

‘You have no idea.’

Sythe cocked his head, trying to decipher all the sounds. Cracking, the noise growing until Sythe stepped back and the wall beside his right crumpled. A Skull flew through, followed by a tail of white dust and debris. He hit the wall on the left, knocking through that too before his body stopped at what must be the outside brick.

“Gideon’s here,” Lucifer said, stepping through the new hole he’d made. “Go, find your mate.” His eyes glowed a dark red, his horns piercing through his hair as he launched himself at the Skull.

Fucking maze, Sythe snarled to himself.

A strangled cry, his ears pricking at the sound.

“Let me go!” Harper screeched, her voice hoarse.

Sythe followed, the warmth in his chest a growing pressure that forced him to keep moving.

Right. Left. Left. Dead end.

Fuck.

Sythe formed arcane in his palm, punching through the wall.

“Stop struggling,” Wyatt snarled, a gun pressed to Harper’s head. He was trying to shove her into the circle, an altar placed in the centre.

Sythe stepped into the room, the space enclosed. “Oh, hey there, rich boy.”

“Sy?” Wyatt sneered, holding Harper tighter. “How are you not dead?”

Sythe took a step closer, his boots crunching against the salt granules laid down in strange patterns. There were runes he didn’t recognise, all swirling towards the circles in the centre.

“Stay the fuck back or I’ll kill her.” Wyatt pressed the gun harder against Harper’s head.

He met her eyes, his heart aching at the sight. “It’s okay, Starlight, everything’s going to be okay.”

Wyatt frowned, using his free hand to yank her head back with her hair. “Fuck you, Sy. Did you really think I didn’t know you were a druid?”

Harper yelped when the gun pressed harder, her chest heaving with every breath.

“Such a weak Breed with little aggressive magic. Pathetic.”

Sythe risked another step forward, steering his eyes back to Wyatt’s leer.

“Aw, you think I’m just a druid? That’s cute.”

Wyatt’s nostrils flared, and with a final step, he pulled them both past the inner circle line. The salt granules ignited, starting from the first circle before flowing to the second and third. They glowed a pale white before darkening like embers.

Fuck. Sythe had no idea what it did, and whether it could be crossed.

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