Page 63 of Magic Hunted
He withdrew a dagger from his boot and I lashed out with my foot, catching a human in the middle of his chest when he charged at us. The man staggered backwards, tripped and fell to the ground. A warbug trampled over him, punching its clawed foot through the man’s stomach. Gore and blood sprayed from the wound.
“My mates,” I said.
I unsheathed the sword, knuckles turning white I held it so tight. The almost-white metal gleamed in the sunlight, as though it were thirsty for blood.
A scream was cut short when a warbug lifted a man between its pincers and cut him in half. It twisted its head in a vicious wrench and the body halves were flung in either direction. Others stomped on the humans or used their large, hard bodies to smash into them.
Blue bolts ripped from swords, daggers and fingers in a river of human sacrifice. Titan had given them an abundance of magic. More than he normally would have. Arrows struck the warbugs, clattering off their hides, but some found the elves, stabbing thighs, arms, backs. An elf cried out, clutching an arrow embedded in his chest. He sagged, gripping the arrow in one hand while desperately slashing humans with the other.
“Haera!” I picked out Savvas as he gripped the elf he sat behind with one hand while slashing with a sword of his own. A charged bolt of magic sliced through the air toward Savvas. The elf wrenched their warbug’s antennae and the streak of magic barely missed them both.
I followed the direction the bolt had come from as Peder approached Savvas, magic arcing across his fingers. Peder’s gaze locked onto mine and his mouth stretched into a chilling smile before he threw another bolt at Savvas.
“Spread out!” Taredd yelled. Several warbugs disappeared into the shadows between large, glistening leaves, but there were still so many—too many—herded by the humans who were on a suicide mission. For as many humans the warbugs and elves crushed, more poured toward us, melting from the jungle, tripping over bodies, rushing to their deaths.
It looked like Titan had sent the full contingent of his army, plus others who obviously didn’t volunteer. They were untrained, fighting the elves with little to no style, sacrificing their bodies and their lives as nothing more than fodder. They were not soldiers. Merely workers in his stronghold. Cleaners. Farmers.
They didn’t stand a chance against trained elven warriors built for war.
Still they swarmed.
Titan would be desperate enough to sacrifice everyone in the stronghold for what was inside me, but if he killed my mates, then all our deaths would be meaningless.
“Get my mate to safety, Taredd. We’ll find you. Just get her out of here,” Ashir’s voice boomed over the battle.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, shifter,” Taredd said.
With a wrench of the warbug’s antennae, Taredd made it spin. Its bulbous tail scattered humans as though they were nothing.
“Not without them!” I said.
“Their riders will get them out. They’re capable elves, Haera,” Taredd said. “We have to think of the grimoire.”
My nails dug into Taredd’s armor as I crushed his biceps. “But I’ll come back to life. They won’t.”
A hand clamped around my calf, trying to wrench me from the bug. The human’s lips drew back, showing yellowed, chipped teeth. His eyes were large and desperate, but also filled with the vitriol and hate I was so used to recognizing. These men might be Titan’s fodder, but they still hated anything magical that wasn’t born of The Six. There was no overcoming centuries of bigotry. As low as humans were, they weren’t the lowest and clung to their status above shifters and those naturally magical. They had no idea who the real threat was.
Magic crackled under my skin, pressure building, seeking to be released. I didn’t know how to control it, or what it would do. Only that it sparked and churned until I acted on instinct, not knowing what else to do. I threw out my hand the way the cadre did. My fingers tingled, but the magic crackled and fizzed.
I wrenched my leg free and kicked the human in his face. His nose splintered in a gush of blood. His hands went to his face and he staggered into the bug behind him, before falling to his hands and knees. The warbug stamped one of its legs through the human’s back, impaling him on the jungle floor. I caught the look of satisfaction crossing the rider’s face before he wrenched the warbug’s antenna and charged toward a group of humans.
A streak of magic shot over my head and Ashir’s pained cry echoed in my chest. I found him over the heads of battle. He clutched his shoulder, blood leaking through his fingers before he sagged and toppled off the bug.
A scream wrenched from my throat as he disappeared from sight. I swung my leg over the back of the bug, slipping free from Taredd’s grip when he tried to catch me. My feet struck the ground and survival skills honed over two decades took over. My panther snarled, stepping beneath my skin. Her power infused my muscles, turning my body into something that flowed more like silk than muscle and bone.
A man stepped in my way, his sword slashing through the air. He was too slow. Or maybe I was too fast for him. I ducked and his sword sailed over my head. I stepped toward him, close enough to strike under his jaw with the heel of my hand. His head snapped and he toppled backwards. I struck my sword through his belly. The metal plunged through intestines and bone. I wrenched the blade free from his stomach and stepped around him.
My panther moved beneath my skin, turning the world around me into a world of shapes and colors. Of objects to move around. To dodge, swipe, claw. I let her free. Two halves of myself, flowing in sync. My eyesight stretched, delineated, finding a path through fighting bodies and the deadly legs of warbugs stamping on humans.
I rammed my shoulder into a human, propelling him into a warbug’s side. His temple cracked against the carapace. His knees wobbled and he collapsed, his temple gushing blood. The rider slashed and severed the human’s head with the swipe of his sword.
The air vibrated behind me. I ducked with my panther’s speed as an arrow struck the ground where I’d crouched. I sprang around the end of a warbug to see Ashir clutching his shoulder, trapped on the ground as a human held the tip of his sword under my mate’s chin.
Claws erupted from my fingers and I launched myself at the man, my momentum bowling him over. Sharp fangs erupted from my gums. I clamped onto his throat, tearing his flesh. He clutched his neck, blood gushing between his fingers, as he collapsed to his knees.
I fell to the ground at Ashir’s side. His shoulder was a bloody mess, his flesh torn open in a gaping wound. Crimson blood coated his chest, the side of his face and neck. His eyes flared as he looked behind me. His pupils elongated and his eyes glowed as his panther leant him power.
“Get to safety, Haera,” Ashir breathed, his face tight with pain.
