He turned towards Marek to thank him.
One glance was all it took to see that something had gone wrong.
“I lost Cassandra,” Marek said, guilt and pain shining in his dark eyes. “She broke free of me during the teleport.”
Daimon’s heart lurched and icy talons formed over his fingers. “What do you mean, she broke free of you?”
“She hit me with a spell that sent me flying. There was nothing I could do.”
Daimon couldn’t breathe.
He bent forwards, clutching his knees as his mind whirled, thoughts spinning so quickly that he felt sick.
He didn’t know what might have happened to her, where she might be.
Gods, he didn’t need this.
He was tired, in constant pain as his body tried to complete the healing that Cass’s spell had set in motion. Remaining focused on keeping the daemons from the gate had been taxing enough, now that fragile focus was split between the battle and fear for Cass.
What if she had landed somewhere in the Underworld?
If she had, she could take care of herself. She was strong, a powerful warrior, one who had proven she could handle anything life threw at her. He had to trust that she would make it through or at the very least survive long enough for him to finish with these daemons and go after her.
A portal formed on the inside of the wall.
The Erinyes stepped out of it.
Their violet eyes fixed beyond him.
On the point where the gate was hidden.
Could this night get any shittier?
It felt as if the Moirai had answered that question with a mocking laugh as he felt the gate opening behind him.
Impossible.
He twisted to face that direction as Marek joined the fray, teaming up with Ares and Valen.
He glanced at Keras where he fought a few feet away, taking on six daemons by himself.
None of his brothers were close enough to the gate to trigger it.
It shouldn’t be opening.
He looked back at the Erinyes. The two blondes stood in front of the portal, an entire legion of daemons forming behind them, at least three dozen strong.
Was it their doing?
He looked his bare chest over, focused on his body, sure that they hadn’t managed to cut him and take his blood. Had Nemesis given some to them? Had they taken it before he had tried to kill himself?
Even if they had, he wasn’t sure it would be enough for them to trigger the gate from such a vast distance.
It wasn’t responding to him and he was standing closer to it.
He backed off, leaving his brothers to deal with the daemons as he turned all his focus on the gate.
A blinding pinprick of violet light burst into existence in the middle of the field before him, spreading rapidly to form the central disc of the gate. It hovered flat above the grass, at least five feet wide, and pulsed brightly, birthing the first colourful ring.
“What the hell?” Ares snarled from behind him. “You doing that?”
“No,” Daimon snapped. “It’s not me opening it.”
But he would be the one to close it.
He focused on the gate, narrowing the world down to it, trusting his brothers could deal with the daemons without him. The gate flashed again and another ring formed, growing outwards. Glyphs shimmered to life around the ring, swirling with colour.
Daimon commanded that ring to shrink.
It grew larger.
Fear threatened to seize him, but he pushed back against it and focused harder, demanding that the gate close itself. His head turned and he pressed a hand to it, squeezed his eyes shut as his vision blurred. He could do this.
He sent another command to the gate.
A third ring formed, rotating slowly counter-clockwise.
Fuck.
“Ares,” Daimon hollered. “Can you close it?”
Ares appeared beside him, his face etched in lines of concentration as he stared at the gate. Tense seconds trickled past, filled with the crack of lightning and the sound of grunts and screams as the battle raged behind them.
Ares looked at him out of the corner of his eye, defeat shining in his gaze. “I can’t. It’s not responding to me. It’s like someone is overriding me.”
Daimon stared at the gate, that feeling echoing inside him too as he watched another ring form, helpless to stop it. He tried anyway, gritting his teeth and grunting as he exerted all of his will on the gate.
“Go… go!” Meadow yelled, and Daimon sensed the wave of daemons rushing forwards, heard the thunder of their footsteps as they charged across the grass at his brothers.
Daimon fought harder, struggling to focus on the gate and his power over it as his head grew foggy, his body sluggish and slow to respond as he tried to lift his hands.
Ares growled and heat licked at Daimon’s back, a wall of fire that wouldn’t keep the daemons at bay for long. His brother would need to keep fuelling that wall of fire, draining himself.
Daimon had to get the gate to respond to him.
He raked one of his icy talons over his arm, drawing blood.
“Are you crazy?” Ares lunged for him and Daimon leaped away, placing some distance between them.
“I need more control over it.” Daimon dragged another claw over his arm and corrected himself. “I need some control. It will respond to my blood.”
He wasn’t sure that it would.
He had never seen a gate act like this. He had never felt as if it was ignoring him. Sometimes they resisted, but it was as if he wasn’t even here.
“Just keep the Erinyes away from it.” Daimon glanced at Ares, and the grim look in his brother’s eyes said that he was well aware of what might happen if the two furies managed to get closer to the gate.
They were already making it hard enough on him, their control over it something that felt impossible given the distance between them and it.
But it had
