Page 125 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

You can use anything as a weapon.

She scanned the room for a weapon—her training hadn’t been for nothing.

Crash!

Another chandelier hit the floor in front of her and she skidded to a halt. A winged demon soared in from the open dome and landed directly in front of her. The room shook from its powerful roar. It pulled back one wing and batted Emara across the room. The force knocked the air from her lungs and she landed on the hard floor, her bones crunching as they took the impact of the fall. Emara let out a cry in pain, but there was no time to waste; the creature stalked towards her with leg muscles like boulders and skin so deathly grey. She did all she could to scramble to her feet, but her head was dizzy from the impact of the first blow. Speckles and stars floated around in her vison. She felt a warm trickle of blood slide down her face, and she let it run.

With a vile snarl, the creature’s hand dove for her neck, but she was quicker; she ducked to the side, its talons missing her jugular vein by the split of a hair.

A deep growl came from behind her and Emara turned, shocked, to see a massive grey wolf prowling towards her—its teeth bared and covered in dark blood.

Demon Blood.

The demon let out a roar that shattered into her ears and the wolf attacked instantly.

Strong hands hauled her up from behind and straight away Emara tensed her body to fight.

“Get those shoes off,” Torin Blacksteel barked. “Here.” He shoved a golden spear into her hand. “You gravitated towards a spear in the sparring room, didn’t you?”

She blinked and nodded. “How did you remember?”

“It’s my duty to notice the small things.” He reached out, eyes dark with fire, and wiped the blood on her forehead. “Stay by my side. Always look around you, even above you. Be ready for anything.”

He had blood and ick all over him, his blade already dripping with gore from Gods know how many of the things he had killed already. His face was no longer full of mischief and sarcasm; it was cold and focused.

A true warrior in battle.

“The wards are down!” Marcus shouted from the left. “The Covens are trying to raise them, but without the Empress or Supreme, they are finding it difficult.” His shirt had been ripped from the bottom to show his stomach, giving off signs of a struggle. He, too, had found a weapon; one of the spears that had been used to strike the women who were still impaled to the walls.

Emara looked down at the weapon in her hand. She held the same kind of spear. A sick sensation flowed into her mouth. As she fought it down, she scanned the walls; on the far back wall, she spied an array of display spears with several missing.

That’s where they had come from.

“How can the fucking wards be down?” Torin seethed. “I understand them weakening, but to be completely down? That’s impossible!”

Marcus panted, “Maybe the spell that holds them up has been severed. But I can’t find the Witches I need to answer that question.”

“That’s because they are pinned against the walls like grotesque art,” Torin spat, a vein bulging from his forehead and neck. “Where the fuck are the Empress’ guards?”

Emara knew exactly what Torin was referring to; she had read about the old tradition of dedicated Hunters who were guards to the Empress of a House. Gideon had advised that they rarely used them, only on special outings like tonight.

“They seem to have been the first ones killed,” confirmed Marcus. “The element of surprise hasn’t boded well for them.”

“Fuck the element of surprise, Marcus. These men are trained guards, they should be expecting an element of surprise every time they step out bedside their empress.” He cursed again, running a hand over his face. “Find my father!” Torin shouted towards Marcus. “Ask him if he knows where the Supreme is. I didn’t see her making her grand entrance as normal. She is the only one who has enough power to raise the wards again without the empresses. These are strategic killings. They are hunting the Witches. Find my father, Marcus.”

“I’m on it.” Marcus left without looking at Emara.

“Were you with Gideon?” Torin asked, scanning the room as they moved amongst the anarchy, his hand reaching out for Emara’s arm.

“Yes,” she nodded, reaching out to place her hand in his.

Before she could, a demon swooped down in front of them and clawed a man’s throat out, splashing blood everywhere. In a flash, Torin drove a lethal knife through its head, and it crumpled to the ground.

Emara choked on a scream.

“And he came back into the ballroom with you?” Torin continued.

Emara’s voice refused to work after what she saw. The smell of iron still hung strongly in the air.

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