“It’s time,” he said in a low voice. “I hope you have made amends.”
“Go to hell,” I growled.
El Diablo chuckled. “Yes, you’ve told me that before. It’s still quite amusing.”
He retreated to his comrades, and they formed a wide semicircle around us. The demons pulled their black hoods over their faces.
El Diablo’s voice rang out from the circle of demons. “Draw your blades.”
The demons unsheathed their daggers again.
“Spill your blood.”
The demons slid the blades across their palms. Their blood dripped to the ground and sizzled with a sinister hiss.
I raised my hand to the vial necklace at my throat. Let him think I had it the whole time.
A thunderous explosion shook the ship so violently that a few demons yelped and fell over. A deep groan of metal indicated something large within the ship had been struck.
Seizing my opportunity, I smashed the vial of orange liquid to the floor. Puffs of amber smoke rose and coiled in the air, obscuring the demons from our view.
Oliver’s hand found mine, and I reluctantly gripped his fingers tightly, hoping to cause him some pain.
Boxes tumbled over and barrels rolled, bumping against demons. Something resembling a Civil War cannon wheeled toward us, its barrel pointed straight into my face. I tugged on Oliver’s arm, trying to move out of the way, but we were surrounded by wreckage with no way to escape.
Suddenly, the restraints from my wrists and legs released, clattering against the floor. My feet lifted in the air, rising with the orange smoke. My stomach dropped from the weightlessness as the cannon smashed into the wall where we’d been just seconds before.
“Stop them!” El Diablo roared.
A shuffling of feet bustled below us, but we continued floating upward. I held my breath as the ceiling grew closer and closer.
More explosions and crashes surrounded us. The room quivered, and the walls groaned. I flinched and squeezed Oliver’s hand, my eyes darting frantically around, waiting for cannons and bullets to blast us to bits. We’ll never get out in time!
Another deafening boom echoed around us, and bars and pipes from the ceiling pounded into the ground. Demons shrieked and dived to avoid the wreckage. Water sprayed from the ceiling and walls. I crammed my eyes shut, preparing to get soaked or crushed by debris, but I didn’t feel anything.
I glanced down at my body but saw nothing but orange smoke. My eyes searched for Oliver, but he wasn’t there, either. We were both completely invisible, though his fingers still felt solid in my hand.
Jets of black magic flew in every direction as the demons blindly cast spells around the room—whether to protect themselves or to stop us, I couldn’t tell. But the vanishing draft shielded us until we floated right through the ceiling.
A blinding white light burst against my eyes. My body spun, and motion around me made me feel sicker than when I was aboard the ship. I shut my eyes, but the light persisted through my eyelids. A cacophony of gunfire rang in my ears, so loud that I flinched and let go of Oliver’s hand to cover my ears.
Some kind of electricity snapped when I broke contact with him, and we both tumbled to the ground. I groaned and hissed as I climbed to my feet, the scrapes against my knees throbbing.
My eyes adjusted to the bright morning sun, and more gunfire assaulted my ears. We were standing on the wooden beams of a small dock facing the bay. My breath caught in my throat as I easily found Vizcaya—the ship now covered in plumes of dark smoke. Across from it, what I assumed to be the American ship was rapidly firing into the Spanish vessel. It wouldn’t be long before Vizcaya was completely obliterated.
And maybe . . . just maybe El Diablo and his cronies will be taken down with it.
The hope was just a small fragment within me, though. I knew as long as Howard was there, he could easily Teleport everyone out.
“Come on,” Oliver muttered. He tugged on my arm, and I blindly followed, still blinking against the light.
He led me away from the docks and the naval battle until we found a narrow street between tall buildings that shielded the bay from view. I recognized the area—we’d escorted refugees not too far from here.
Oliver pulled me into a small pub. Darkness surrounded me again, and my eyes welcomed the relief. The musty bar reeked of rum and mildew, and the muffled gunfire continued outside.
Breathing heavily, I felt the burns on my neck. They still stung, but it was better than before. Whatever Kismet had applied to the injuries had certainly helped.
Silence pressed between Oliver and me, broken only by the incessant gunfire outside.
“Desi,” Oliver said quietly, reaching for my hand.
I jerked my hand out of his reach and crossed my arms over my chest. Shaking my head, I whispered, “Don’t. I need to find Kismet.”
I strode toward the door, but Oliver hurried forward, blocking my path.
“Desi, no,” Oliver said firmly. “You have to talk to me. I’m not letting you leave until you do.”
“Get out of my way,” I growled.
“Talk to me.”
Fire exploded in my chest, and my nostrils flared. “Fine, you want me to talk? You’re a piece of garbage! You’re no better than the vermin you claim to hunt in the name of your precious coven.”
Fury burned in Oliver’s eyes, and he clenched his teeth. “I did it for you.”
“A lot of good that did,” I spat. “He was about to sacrifice me for a blood ritual!”
“I know,” Oliver said, closing his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together. “He went back on his word. Once—once he had my allegiance, he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions.”
“Why in the name of Lilith would you do that?” I yelled. “Why would you give yourself to him like that?”
Oliver rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Desi, he was going to kill you. He was
