Page 134 of Devil's Doom

Zlotomira stands behind the bar, her lips pressed together in helpless anger, her eyes filled with thunder. She holds a hammer, but her white-knuckled hands shake too much to use it.

I move fast while everyone’s distracted. Invisible ropes burst out of my palms, their aim guided with magic. I don’t care about being efficient right now. I only care about protecting my friends, and every spell I launch releases some of the rage trapped in my gut.

Thump!A kobold lands on all fours, a tight leash dragging him out the door.Smash!A strzyga falls back onto a table, her wrists tied together.Clang!The upir drinking from the mamuna is thrown right on top of a bucket filled with empty bottles.

Before the rebels realize what’s happening, I bind and throw out each and every one of them. When the bar is finally empty of intruders, the only sounds the sobs and wails of the mamunas, Zlotomira comes over and squeezes my hand.

“Thank you, dear,” she says gravely. “Will you be safe after doing this?”

I bare my teeth in a grin, breathing hard from exertion. I’ve spent a large chunk of my magic, but I still want to spend more, until I’m utterly empty. Until I go numb.

“I am the devil’s consort,” I say with a disdainful snort. “I’ll be fine. Do you need more help?”

She shakes her head. “We will bar the door and lick our wounds. Come back when it’s safe, and we will talk again. And if you ever need help from me, any kind, I’ll be happy to repay my debt.”

What debt?I want to ask as I leave the bar, shooting scornful looks at the few rebels who remained, still struggling with the ropes. Lutowa watches them with amusement, munching on her rolls.

There is no debt to repay, I think as I kick a kobold viciously in the back, the same one who tried to rape Kata. These were my people who assaulted the milk bar. It might as well have been me, and I hate that.

“Where else is this happening?” I ask Lutowa, turning to her with a snarl.

She shrugs, swallowing a large bite. “Everywhere? But if you want the best show, the Wila Garden is the place.”

My gut plummets with foreboding. The brothel. Of course.

Rada makes a muffled sound of distress, probably thinking about her wila friends who still work there. I look at Lech, who has his arms around her. His face is tight, eyes watchful. I can tell he’s surprised, but not enough to act.

He didn’t try to help the mamunas even though he lived above the bar longer than I. He is on the side of the rebellion. Even now. After what he saw.

“Take her home, wherever that is for you,” I growl at him, pointing my chin at Rada. “This isn’t safe.”

He nods once and turns away. Maybe his loyalty to Rada is strong, at least.

“And you’ll come with me and help,” I tell Lutowa. “It’s the least you can do.”

She shrugs, popping another bite in her mouth. “I got my fix. We can brawl. After all, everything that happens on the surface, stays on the surface. Unofficial rebel law.”

I clench my jaw when she grins shamelessly. I’m unsure whether she doesn’t see my anger or doesn’t treat it seriously. That’s fine. After this is all over, I’ll explain why she’ll never have my friendship again.

The Wila Garden is only a few streets away from the milk bar. We go up the narrow alleys, passing two more taverns overrun with rebels, but I don’t bother going in. I don’t have enough magic to stop everyone tonight, and the wilas must be dealing with the worst of this.

The brothel is a tall, elegant building with fragrant ramblers crawling up the stone walls even in the dead of winter. It’s brightly lit with pink orbs, a beacon of expensive pleasure. I know it’s purely a wila establishment, and my gut squeezes with disgust. It’s just as Woland said—this world values wilas for one thing only.

“What are you planning?” Lutowa asks, fishing another treat out of her bag. “You know you can’t just barge in there and start shooting spells. You don’t have enough magic for that.”

I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. For all her faults, Lutowa is right. But as a frantic scream comes out through a smashed window on the ground floor, I throw all caution away and head for the front door.

I’ll deal with the problems as they come up.

But I don’t even make it inside. A hunched creature bundled in a black cloak surges out through the door, a wailing baby in their arms. Behind them runs out a half-naked wila.

“Help!” she screams, her voice high-pitched and panicked. “She said she’ll eat my baby!”

“You‘re fucking kidding me,” I growl under my breath, launching into a chase. I’ve heard that threat before, and I know exactly who took the child. “Wera, stop!”

The strzyga keeps running. I send a spell her way, but she has a shield up protecting her back. This is bad. I’ve never managed to defeat Wera in a duel. Lutowa jogs behind us, but she’s far back and not in a hurry.

“Stop!” I yell, the fresh snowfall crunching under my feet.

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