If I killed the woman wearing the feathers now, the same creature could pop up in another coven member later. That’s how their magic worked. They were, for the most part, skinwalkers. Except all coven members could borrow from the same closet of victims. This look had to get yanked off the rack permanently.
There would be no handy circle to protect me if I failed to escape the Quetz’s fire. That was a sobering thought. Worse was the realization I couldn’t protect my friends, or Midas, from what was coming.
“I’ve got your back. So does the pack. We got this.” Bishop clamped his hands on my shoulders. “We got you.”
The gwyllgi angled into a hunting formation, but they were at a disadvantage with the Quetz in the sky. All it had to do was wait, and the fire would take us out for it. It wouldn’t have to lose a single feather to end us.
As I was thinking that, a smallish lizard with winglike flaps of membranous skin in mottled shades of orange and brown attached to either of its sides glided over the fire and landed before us. It expanded in a prickling wave of magic into the twisted form of an elderly man.
And like magic, the second coven member appeared to us.
“Give us the girl,” he warbled, “and we’ll let you live.”
“I assume by girl,” Bishop clarified, “you mean Hadley.”
“Just so.” He leaned heavily on a walking stick that materialized from thin air. “You all need not die.” He smiled at me, kind and grandfatherly. “You are far more powerful than we ever imagined, a true rarity of your kind. Your sacrifice for those you love will be remembered.”
A meteor rocketed to the Earth and smashed into my skull. Okay, so it didn’t, but that’s how the dawning horror of my realization struck me. “You want my skin so you can rule Atlanta legitimately.”
And they had brought the one thing guaranteed to annihilate me as their Plan B.
“A near-bloodless coup,” he agreed, inclining his head. “Your cooperation would save many.”
Near-bloodless coup, as if they hadn’t slaughtered dozens of Atlantans to reach this point.
“Linus would know.” They could take my skin and my powers, but they couldn’t take Ambrose. Linus would know in a heartbeat I was not myself. “And he would not be happy.”
The old man considered this. “Reparations could be made.”
“You can’t afford to let all these people live knowing I’ve been hung in the coven’s coat closet.”
“I could wipe their minds,” he offered casually. “They wouldn’t have to remember a thing.”
“You think we’re going to let you in our heads?” Bishop barked out a laugh. “You could crush our minds with that kind of access.” He slashed a hand through the air. “Forget it.”
The old man turned the walking stick in his hands. “You would prefer certain death?”
“That’s all you’ve offered so far,” Bishop said. “You’ll have to do better.”
“Her life is worth so much to you?” A line bisected his brow. “She’s a creature of darkness.”
“We all have our dark sides,” Bishop countered. “She’s a good person.”
“Good is subjective.” He sought my gaze. “You would let them die in your stead?”
I had kept my mouth shut up to this point in the hopes Bishop could wiggle out of this with the others. Right now, it wasn’t sounding likely. The coven were a bunch of liars and murderers. We couldn’t trust them.
“I would give my life for theirs in a heartbeat,” I said, and I meant it.
“You were the right choice.” The old man nodded approval. “Your selflessness unifies others to your cause.” He stabbed his staff into the ground. “Your facsimile will rally them to ours nicely.”
A calculating expression took hold on Bishop’s face, and his cunning shone through in chilling clarity. I had no idea what he had just realized, but it was vital to put that sparkle in his eyes.
“Facsimile,” I echoed. “That’s classier than calling it what it is for sure.”
“You’ve made your choice.” He bowed to me. “May your end come on swift wings.”
Dark magic burned my sinuses, and he shifted to his winged lizard form. Lashing his tail, he leapt into the sky and flew to safety.
That must have been the signal. The Quetz hadn’t attacked since spewing its initial flame, but now that peace talks had ground to a halt, it was back.
A ballooning sense of dread trickled into me from Ambrose. “How do we knock it out of the sky?”
“No clue.” Bishop’s lips hitched up on one side. “I’m flying by the seat of my pants here.”
“Spoiler alert,” I interrupted him. “Your pants are on fire.”
Midas strode into view, on two legs, his eyes on the sky. “What’s our play?”
“I thought it was your turn to pack the plan. Don’t tell me you left it at home.”
A smile touched his mouth, but it didn’t stick.
“The Clairmont and Loup packs are here,” he said, “but I don’t know how much good they’ll do us.”
“Can you tell if they’re clean?” I eyed them warily. “I didn’t tip them off, but that’s not saying much.”
The phone tree had been activated in order to bring this many of my allies together. I couldn’t bank on the wargs until I knew if they were simply late to the party or if they were crashing via coven invitation.
“They’re keeping downwind.” He watched them too. “I wouldn’t turn my back on them yet.”
The Quetz swooped, opened its massive beak, and regurgitated flames that caught the brush on fire and blinded in their intensity. The line of smoldering heat bisected the pit, and all our worries about the pack’s allegiance got chucked out the window. They
