Page 130 of Cold Curses
The demons who weren’t part of the circle looked around nervously. Black’s scream had them jittery. They might have followed him in there as loyal minions, but that loyalty, probably purchased with threats, had a limit. And they probably passed that limit as they watched Black use their brethren.
Black was sweating now, his body slicked with perspiration. And he was shaking, either from the effort of maintaining the symbol or the effect of the power.
We needed to stop him. Maybe have Lulu throw a fireball into the symbol to break it up. But I wasn’t sure what that might do to the ley line. And a ley line disaster was the last thing we needed right now.
The funnel seemed to thicken—growing wider and more opaque—and Black screamed again as the building shuddered. The symbol flickered from the excess of power. Irregularities in the ley line, probably.
Lightning cracked around us, giving the ambient magic a harsh red glow. The symbol flickered, and then another burst oflightning cracked, the loudest sound I’d ever heard. The symbol flashed, the brightest thing I’d ever seen, and its lines began to break.
The spell was falling apart.
The center wasn’t holding.
The ley line, clearly too powerful to be harnessed this way, fractured the symbol into shards of light and magic that blew across the room, and the green column disappeared. I saw two demons drop before I instinctively let go of the door and turned away. Then the building’s front wall bowed in from the force of the sudden vacuum.
As the wall began to splinter, Connor grabbed my arm. “Run!”
We ran toward the hedge, hit the shadow line as the front wall of the building exploded, sending sheets of knife-edged steel spinning through the air and smashing into the demons’ vehicles. The building’s door flew above our heads, landing somewhere in the yard next door.
A few demons staggered out, looked around. Some of them saw their chance and took off at a run. And then Black appeared in the smoking hole where the front of the building had been. He stalked out, clothes torn, skin bloodied, hair mussed. He was visibly trailing black smoke now.
I repeated what I had done for myself earlier and felt for his aura. That metallic margin Lulu had seen was thicker now, an onyx edge encircling his virulently red magic.
Black approached a demon trying to open the door of the front vehicle, which was now wedged shut by a large piece of steel. Black picked the demon up, tossed him down to the concrete. The demon tried a fireball, but he was bleeding and injured, and it didn’t do much.
Black batted the fireball aside and held out his hand. Black smoke began to gather.
“It wasn’t my fault!” the demon said, his voice an insectile whine.
I knew Black would kill him, and it wouldn’t be self-defense but murder, demon or not.
I cursed, looked at Lulu.
“Cover me,” I said, waited for her nod, and was up and out of the shadows, sword drawn, before anyone else realized what I was doing.
A fireball flew overhead, landed inches from the demon on the ground. He squealed, tried to scoot away.
Black turned his attention to me. For a second, his eyes widened in surprise. Then they hardened, and he stepped closer. “You did this.”
Fake some bravado, I ordered myself as the demon scampered away. A crap result for our team, but easier on the conscience.
“No,” I said lightly. “The ley line did this. The light show was rad, but your circle wasn’t strong enough to hold it.”
“Liar,” he said, but didn’t put much force behind it.
“What are you trying to do?” I asked.
“Claim my right.”
“Sorcha’s right, you mean?”
There was a flash of surprise in his eyes. And that was followed by deep and burning hatred.
“Yeah, we figured out the property-ownership thing. Why are you so obsessed with her? Are you looking for a mentor? Because you know she’s dead, right? Killed by her own magic.”
She’d literally been eaten by the Egregore dragon she created.
He didn’t like the question, given he pitched a smoking ball of magic toward me. I dodged, used my sword as a shield to deflect the edge of the magic that I wasn’t fast enough to avoid. The contact sent a blaze of heat down the blade, but I made myself keep my fingers around the handle. Skin would grow back, after all.
