Page 77 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

“I know the plan, but Tara needs us, King Clucks.”

A class of first-year students from the audience found themselves locked in the gaze of a gorgon while pinned between several heads of the hydra, which no one seemed capable of banishing. I was the only nearby teacher. All my students were engaged in heavy combat, too far to offer assistance except for Tara. Where’d she gone? My pulse jumped. She’d fought to ensure everyone around her had the best support possible, and now she stood alone, too far for me to reach, surrounded by three terrible threats.

“I’m thrilled and chilled, lil Whitlock.” Darla giggled as she slinked around Tara, threatening counter at the ready. “I can’t wait to slice you up again. Bet your blood is as sweet as Teddy’s.”

“We should make this quick.” Ernesto popped out of a portal before vanishing and reappearing elsewhere. “She’s got a lot of branches. That’s dangerous.”

“I have infinite branches.” Vincent tapped his tattooed sigils on his bare chest with one hand while drawing some horrid spell with his other.

The three warlocks from Theodore’s crew circled his sister with animosity in their surface thoughts and not an ounce of remorse or desire to hold back their insatiable ire. They’d each prepared to harm Tara, break Tara, teach her a lesson for daring…

For daring what? For living her life? For not breaking to pieces after the destruction her brother caused?

I furrowed my brow. I wanted to slap the fuck out of each of those warlocks.I had to help Tara. But I couldn’t be in two places at once. So many students were trapped by the gorgon’s petrification, which slowed victims who were caught in its line of sight; it locked them in place like stone. Then there was Tara,who stood all alone like she’d done too much in her life, fighting against the sorrow inside of her.

“Theo.I won’t let you harm the people I love.”

Enchanter Diaz darted between me and the first-year students, hacking off the gorgon’s head with his enchanted sword.

My heart jumped at his sudden arrival. Where’d he come from? The gorgon who planned on making a feast of teens now fumbled around with outstretched arms to retrieve his lost head, but Diaz hit the demon with so much banishment the monstrosity burst into the goopy tar of desiccating fiends that were mashed into muck by Priscilla. She roared, sending a wave of banishment herself that eliminated the demonic energy entirely.

I didn’t have a chance to read his thoughts, not with the glyphs of his weapon active. It didn’t take long for Enchanter Diaz to race across the auxiliary gym, shredding demons and clearing a path for Priscilla to usher out those in the line of danger.

I needed to move. To help my students, Tara especially. Was her brother really going to let those warlocks hurt her? He remained perched on the stage, watching the horrors unfold with glee blossoming from his gnarled tree of thoughts.

Purple smoke fluttered around Theodore Whitlock, coiling onto the bone staff he held and snatching it away into nothingness.

“Who the…” He ground his teeth. “I should’ve slit her throat when I had the chance.”

Milo appeared behind Theodore from thin air.

“How’d you get here so fa—” A quick fist to his face shut Theodore up.

Milo didn’t mince words or let up for a second, belting the warlock with heavy-handed telekinetic punches meant tobreak and bruise and beat Theodore into submission. Theodore couldn’t keep up with the bombardment of well-trained hits, tactical strikes, and the plain ole angry fucking attack. His jaw cracked, his ribs crunched, his knees creaked, and still Milo didn’t relent. Every strike was meant to make up for the lost seconds of this diverted path, every painful hit was meant to apologize to the lives lost because of Theodore, every knuckle-bruising punch was a cry for the mistakes Enchanter Evergreen promised to never make again.

There would be no sorrow. There would be no suffering. There would be no chasms of regret like what he held for Finn.

The certainty and joy Milo always held high in his mind had a chink, a blemish that revealed the sadness he often kept at bay.

I wanted to fly across the arena and hug him, hold him, whisper that everything would be okay. But Tara needed me. Darla continued circling her, searching for any vulnerability. Vincent hurled his own magics from his branded tattoos. Ernesto sprang out of portals, nearly catching Tara with each new attempt.

“Gotcha!” Darla sliced the air, sending a counter meant to strike down Tara.

Gladiatrix intercepted the invisible strike, completely unaware of what the counter would do to her; her body raged as the hex magic burned throughout every cell of her being. I’d felt the effects of that counter or a pale imitation of it from a blade that Theodore used, a blade carved with a brand from Vincent to mimic Darla’s branch.

“How are you standing?” Darla’s face fell flat, stunned by how quickly Gladiatrix shrugged off the counter.

Her branch was so overwhelmingly strong that the warlock’s hex fizzled out, merely dampening the physicality coursing through Gladiatrix.

In a flash, Gladiatrix snatched Darla by the throat.

“Release her now!” Vincent demanded, every sigil on his body lit with a green hue.

Gladiatrix headbutted Darla so hard it rendered her unconscious. In a blink, Gladiatrix had abandoned Darla and barreled ahead, Vincent her next target. A crystalized blue door sprang open, sealing right as the enchanter slipped through, even cutting off part of her cape when the portal vanished.

At least she’d removed Darla, who was the biggest threat of the three.

“What the fuck?” Ernesto tugged his hair, staring at the pulsating blue cracks beside Vincent.

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