Page 75 of Eboenia

Hoax tried to duck behind his goblins for protection as they scattered in panic, but the birds were relentless—tearing through the goblins. War stood tall in the center of the carnage, chain spinning, blood streaked across his face, but his eyes never left me, making sure I was still fighting.

I shot into the air, wings unfurling wide. As I flew, my wings shifted, the edges hardening into spinning, bladed fans. I dove through the crowd, wings whirling, slicing goblins in half as I passed. Their blood sprayed in ribbons behind me. I spun, my wand firing bolts of black lightning that incinerated any enemy who dared reach for me.

War’s chain lashed out, catching a goblin mid-leap and smashing it into the pavement. He never took a step back, never faltered, his magic raining death from above and his fists breaking bones below. Every time I landed, he was there—covering his Lor Pussy Fairy, gears spinning around us like a shield, his voice calling out, “Eboenia! You good?” even as he fought three goblins at once.

Hoax’s voice echoed from the street, battered. “Your magic is weak, Azarion! You never should have been resurrected! Baltimore is mine now! My babies will stop at nothing to build my new army—even if I’m dead!” He raised his staff, unleashing a wave of green fire that swept down the street, igniting cars and sending humans fleeing in terror. A woman carrying a Chinese carry out bag was tackled by a goblin. Her screamed rang my ears as it tore her face off.

A goblin leapt at me, claws digging into my calf. I stabbed it through the eye with my wand. Another tackled me from behind, but I spun, my wings slicing it cleanly in two. My vision flashed white with pain, but I kept moving—faster, deadlier, my magic and blade working as one.

War was beside me in an instant, chain whistling and gears spinning in a deadly orbit. He hurled a gear at Hoax, but the bastard deflected it with his staff, laughing.

“You’ve lost your edge! I thought you were the assassin of realms, the wizard of Charmden, the leader of Hex13! My son, Sin, has more flair than you,” Hoax taunted, rambling wildly.

“Then stop running bitch boy! Let’s finish this!” War roared, his voice shaking the street. His eyes flicked to me, worry and pride burning in them.

“Whatever happens, you better not die on me!”War’s voice blasted inside my head.

“I won’t. I need you,”I responded.

The goblins pressed in, but we didn’t retreat. We fought back-to-back—me in the air, wings slicing, wand blazing; War on the ground, commanding the birds, chain and gears tearing through anything that got close.

We landed in an alley, breath ragged, surrounded on all sides. War’s gears spun faster, power crackling, but I could see he was weakening—blood pouring from his side, his face pale, but his eyes kept flicking to me, making sure I was alive.

Hoax appeared at the mouth of the alley, staff raised. “This is where you die, Eboenia. Just like your mother. Just like every weak little fairy I’ve broken.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Rage and grief twisted inside me. “You didn’t break me,” I hissed, voice shaking. “You just made me cherish the art of death and you will be my best mural!” I said, raising my wand, black fire swirling around my hand.

Suddenly, the air shimmered like a heatwave. Black smoke spilled from the shadows, uniting into the spectral forms of the Hex13 warlocks. Their eyes burned with a white beam,their weapons flickering with dark sorcery. Grim burst from the portal, riding a massive black panther, shotgun blazing. “I’m merking all you baldheaded, stanking ass bitches tonight! We ain’t in Charmden, you duck-ass freaks! We’re in Murdaland, baby, and we drop shit!” he roared, blasting goblins to pieces, the panther tearing into the horde.

The Hex13 warlocks swept through the goblins, dragging them into the shadows, their screams and growls echoing off the alley walls. War’s chain was slicing through goblins like butter, but his eyes kept searching for me in the battle.

Hoax slammed his staff into the ground. The street split, and a monstrous centipede-beast erupted from a pothole, wrapping War in its coils, fangs sinking deep into his flesh.

“War!” I screamed, heart pounding. I hacked my way to Hoax, my sword arm numb, blood running down my face. I flicked my wand, sending a barrage of black thorns into the centipede, trying to free War. Hoax swung at me, but I ducked, slicing his hand clean off. His staff clattered to the ground, and he howled, dark red, mushroom-scented blood spraying the alley.

“You little bitch!” he shrieked, clutching his stump. “Why won’t you die?!”

I grinned, blood in my teeth. “Because I’m already dead! You killed me the day you forced your skinny, sickly dick into me! You picked the wrong bitch to fuck with and now my ancestors can rejoice in your demise. I pray the hell you go to will piss in your mouth and rip your asshole into shreds!”

War broke free of the centipede after he sliced it in half. He picked up his staff and Hoax screamed.“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” he yelled. War kissed his staff and it glowed in his hand, a glow that never happened when Hoax had it. Hoax tried to crawl over to War, but I punched him in the face with all of my strength—he dropped.

War’s chain snapped around the staff, and the dragon head at its tip—eyes glinting as if alive—suddenly stirred. “Daddy’s home,” War chuckled, as thick locs burst from his scalp, tumbling past his shoulders. In the center of War’s chest, a metal gearwheel seared itself into his flesh. The gear began to tick, and War’s head snapped back as golden light pulsed through his veins, illuminating his skin from within.

“Do you see the difference, Hoax? This is real power. This is what conquer looks like,” War said, his voice rumbling.

“My magic! Give it back!” Hoax wailed, his cry shrill and desperate.

The staff transformed into a chain with a dragon emblem and reptile ridges engraved into the chain. War wrapped his chain around Hoax’s neck, yanking him close. “I told you I was going to body your bitch-ass. My spirit couldn’t rest for one-hundred years. I never begged for anything, but I begged the spirit realm to bring me a warrior who could carry my soul, I damn near pleaded,” War growled, plunging his hand into Hoax’s back. Hoax screamed, thrashing, but War had a serious grip on him.

With a guttural roar, War ripped Hoax’s spine out, vertebrae snapping as blood splashed into my face like in a paintball fight. Hoax’s body crumpled, twitching before going still. The goblins shrieked and scattered; their short-lived master was dead.

The city was in a uproar—sirens wailing, humans ducking behind cars and dumpsters, some filming with their phones.Dead goblins sprawled in pools of black and purple blood, guts and limbs scattered across the street. War’s hounds prowled the carnage, snapping at twitching corpses, then, with a tired breath from War, the hounds and summoned birds poofed into dust, swept away on the wind. The Hex13 warlocks slipped back through the portal under the weight of so many eyes. Grim slid off the panther, shotgun smoking, grinning like a madman.

“We’re going to have to use a lot of sorcery to fix what these humans saw,” Grim told War.

“It’ll knock the power out for a few days, but they’ll survive. A blackout is needed to erase their memories,” he replied, as his staff disappeared.

War staggered—bloody, but alive—and his eyes met mine. Relief flickered across his face, as if he’d been fighting for me as much as for himself. But then his gaze dropped to my chest, and worry creased his features. I followed his eyes—and saw a thorn lodged in my heart.

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