Page 61 of Mastering Mayhem

His eye twitched, but he backed away. Smart move.

All around me, shouted spells, clashing weapons, and crackling fire created a cacophony ofwe don’t have time for this shit.

Ash reached for the amulet, but someone hit her with an asphyxiation spell. She clutched her throat and fell to her knees, unable to drag in a breath.

I scanned the crowd, searching for the witch responsible. “Chaos, red ponytail.”

The witch stood still, her hands raised toward my suffocating sister. This one, I would have gladly sliced in half, but Chaos beat me to it. He snapped her neck as if her bones were made of toothpicks. Her body smacked the earth, and Ash gasped.

Another of Adrian’s minions grabbed the amulet. Based on the person’s size and curves, she had to be a woman, but the ski mask hid all but her eyes and mouth. She smiled and wiped the poo off the pendant before moving to drop it into her pocket.

“That’s mine. You will give it to me,” Chaos said, holding Ash’s hand and channeling their mind-control magic. If only they could control everyone here and send them on their way.

The woman froze, her hand fisting around the chain. “I think this is yours.”

“No!” Adrian sent his tornado toward her, whisking it from her hand and sending it spiraling upward.

“A rift is forming,” Mayhem said as he lit a ring of hellfire around us, blocking at least fifteen witches. “Ignacus.”

I threw a hand in the air. “For goddess’s sake, Adrian. Do you ever fight your own fights?”

“I didn’t call him.” He reached upward, and his tornado obeyed, spiraling above us. When he fisted his hand, it dissipated, the amulet dropping from the sky. He caught it and cradled it in his hands, closing his eyes and absorbing its power.

When he opened them, a blast of wind shot out around him, knocking me off my feet and extinguishing our ring of fire. The rift opened fully, and five fae soldiers darted through.

The biggest bug man lunged straight for a mercenary, ripping out his liver with one hand, his heart with the other. He kneeled in front of the rift, lowering his head and holding the organs up in offering.

Ignacus stepped through, one spindly leg at a time, and the other fae bowed at his entrance. His mandibles made a clicking sound, his dinner squelching with each bite as he consumed first the liver, and then the heart.

His soldiers joined the fray, no doubt ready to eat every liver and heart still beating in the cemetery. The good thing about his arrival? Adrian’s witches were now busy fighting for their lives instead of trying to take ours.

The bad? Ash and I were the strongest, most potent witches they could consume. It was best they didn’t find that out.

Still clutching the amulet, Adrian sent a blast of wind toward Ignacus, his newly multiplied magic allowing him to scoop up the fae prince and toss him against the mausoleum wall as if he were a ragdoll.

Our ward on the building sent a shockwave through his exoskeleton, his body convulsing as he landed face-first in the dirt. He jerked his head up and flapped his wings, sending dirt flying everywhere as he shook himself off.

Ignacus made a high-pitched chittering sound, and his soldiers dropped the witches they were tearing apart to descend upon us.

Ash shot a stream of flames at one. Chaos hurled a ball of hellfire at another. It bounced off the soldier’s chest and set an already-scorched tree ablaze.

“Let the record state I am not responsible for the cemetery fire this time.” Ash called her flames back and shot out an even hotter stream.

Adrian’s idiotic team followed the fae, breaking blades against their armor and wasting their vim on spells that could be fanned away with a flap of their wings.

I grabbed Mayhem’s hand. “Make the violence stop.”

“You no longer bear my mark. The connection is…”

“It’s still there.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”

“I do, but the magic is not as strong.” He threw a fireball at Adrian, who retaliated with a gust of wind, averting the hellfire’s path.

“Then make it stronger.” I focused, not on the tattoo once occupying my forearm, but on the real connection I had with my demon. Magical ink hadn’t forged our bond. Fate had, and I didn’t need a sigil to link to my soulmate.

I opened and sent my magic into him, picturing my light filling the darkness inside him. He inhaled deeply and opened to me, allowing our vim to pass freely back and forth, to mix and meld and become one force. Two parts of a whole coming together, complete at last.

My pulse raced as he sent it outward. Pinpricks danced across my skin, my blood seeming to fizz as he calmed the entire calamity, making everyone freeze and scratch their heads, wondering what they were fighting for.

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