Page 67 of My Hexed Honeymoon

If I had it in my hands now, I could feed it some blood and funnel every drop of my power through it. Then I could pick apart the lacework of the universe that’s pulsing before me, shaping the fibers into weapons with wicked blades that could cut down my enemies, one by one.

All I have is myself, however, and I do my best to assure myself that’s good enough.

A vampire breaks ranks, charging straight at me, fangs bared.

I’m still attempting to remove a dagger from its scabbard when a blur of gray fur collides with it, Diego pinning the creature to the ground with two enormous paws and ripping out its throat with lethal efficiency.

Blood arcs through the air, spraying goopy blood the color of tar as two more vampires attack Diego from the other side with their swords.

I attempt to gather lifeforce and send a blast at the vampire warriors to help, but all I get from my fingertips is a blip of green light that instantly blinks out. My magic’s a car engine that sputters instead of starts.

Diego clamps onto one of his attacker’s arms with his teeth, stopping the swing of his blade. Using his hind leg, he launches a powerful kick into the other’s gut, sending him flying through the air.

Conall intercepts him like they’re playing vampire football, dragging him off toward the end zone with a snarl—as in a pile of vampire bodies that’s being set aflame.

There are at least a dozen, but so many more to go, and several of our members are bloodied and applying pressure to deep gashes and ripped-off limbs.

Sasquatch roars something in what sounds like an ancient, long-forgotten language, spinning his ax in a graceful, savage sweep that takes the head off one vampire before burying it in the chest of another.

He dislodges it with ease and continues cutting down vampires in a grisly line.

All around, the battle rages, a blood-drenched fever dream.

Diego wrestles a vampire the size of a boulder to the dirt, snapping its spine with a sickening crack. Conall and Sasquatch fight back-to-back, one all claws and teeth, the other a vicious ax and curses.

Power surges through the cluster of witches as they work in tandem, lighting up the sky with a spell that freezes the werewolves closest to them in their tracks—literally.

They drop to the ground stiff as boards, completely frozen and under a hex so concentrated, I’m afraid whether or not they’ll survive it.

High Priestess Beatrix flicks her wrist at Diego as he charges the two covens, and I go icy cold, my gut twisting with dread.

His massive frame goes rigid, tendons straining against invisible shackles as he’s rendered completely immobilized.

No, you can’t have him! I won’t lose the only person who’s ever given a damn!

I gather every bit of lifeforce I can in a mad panic and slam my will outward with a scream.

The witches rock on their heels, glancing around and searching for the source of the disturbance. As disappointed asI am that they didn’t fall on their asses, I use the distraction to wrap a gossamer cord around Diego’s waist and tug. Sweat beads my brow, but I manage to yank him back in my direction as I feed him a burst of raw magic—breaking the witches’ spell and setting him free.

It’s as if every werewolf head pivots to me at once, their respect invigorating me right when my knees threaten to buckle.

They might’ve hoped I was fighting by their side, but now they know it, and they renew their strikes with a whole new level of fury, cutting through the enemy faster than ever before.

Newly freed from his immobilized state, Diego lunges forward, slamming into the next wave of attackers.

Holy shit, we’re actually going to win this!

But then I catch movement coming from the ravine to our right…

The world lurches sideways when I see they’ve hidden at least another fifty undead soldiers there, and all I can do is lock my knees and try not to fall with it. Massive and well-rested, they flow into the valley like an angry river.

Suddenly, what looked like a battlefield we were clearing and winning is filled with fresh vampire warriors, the odds not even close to our favor, and I thought we were screwed before.

Andromeda cackles like the hateful bitch she is, her gaze finding mine through the melee. Her smug expression tells me she thinks she’s won, and I’m spinning over how we didn’t know those vampires were hidden there, even with my senses and those of the werewolves.

There’s no time for that, though—not when what I need to be doing is changing up my entire strategy instead.

Our people start going down right and left, and I feel desperate to stop every injury and howl of pain.

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