I was aware of Guthrie circling, as well—ready to provide whatever backup he could, on the off chance that an opening arose. Dad had poked his head out of the back of the van at the first clash of blades, but thankfully hadn’t broken cover any further than that. Edward was standing in the shadow of the vehicle, trying to remain inconspicuous, and Albigard was at the opposite edge of the clearing. Both the Fae and the butler appeared watchful, keeping an eye on the perimeter but not getting involved otherwise.
That was probably a wise choice. If I’d thought the demon battle in California was awe-inspiring—even with much of the action obscured by torrential rain—it was downright terrifying to watch when I could really follow what was going on.
As I’d grown more familiar and comfortable with my new vaporous form, I’d come to appreciate the expanded awareness that came with it. It wasn’t exactly the same as seeing, hearing, tasting, and smelling through human senses. In many ways, it was better—more like the awareness I experienced through my magic. I could ‘see’ the three forms ducking and whirling beneath me, swooping in and out of the physical plane at will, with dizzying speed.
It was almost incomprehensible to a human mind—or to a newly turned vampire one. I knew enough to understand that Rans was desperately outclassed by his very nature, only able to keep up his attack because of the seamless way he and Nigellus worked together. Not for the first time, I ached for the betrayal that had fractured the pair’s relationship—my anger with Nigellus second only to my anger with Myrial.
As the fight raged on, another fact became apparent. Nigellus had been more badly drained last time than I’d appreciated. In California, he’d been recovering from the massive amount of energy he’d expended resurrecting Edward, after Myrial tore the aged butler to pieces. Now, he was facing no such limitations. The edge of his blade caught Myrial a glancing blow on the shoulder, steam hissing at the contact. For a bare moment, I dared to hope. Could my harebrained plan to disable the succubus actually work?
I caught a nonexistent breath in nonexistent lungs as Rans took advantage of the opening to jab the salt dagger toward her heart. Myrial twisted, and it sank between her ribs, inches away from its target. And instant later she ripped Rans away from her. He somehow managed to keep hold of the dagger’s hilt, and vanished into mist at the same instant Myrial’s battle scythe sliced through the space he’d just occupied. Then she was teleporting a few steps to the right to avoid Nigellus’ charge, still obviously on the back foot.
Please, I thought to whatever ineffable powers might be listening. Please, just let us have this one and I’ll never ask for anything else, not ever again—
Light flared on the far side of the clearing, followed by a sound like crackling electricity. Fae magic prickled through me. I staggered back into solidity a safe distance away from the demons, already clawing for my Makarov semiautomatic with its iron bullets.
Shit... shit, shit.
A portal glowed in the nighttime darkness, power arcing from its irregular edges. Albigard stood in front of it, magic glowing from his raised hands. As I squinted against the unexpected glare, he hurled a crackling globe toward the rip in reality, but it met an identical ball of magic emerging from the portal midway, the opposing forces exploding against each other.
Two figures emerged, the opening snapping shut behind them. My skin crawled with a familiar and unwelcome sense of revulsion. Caspian’s presence here was not a shock. But it took me a moment to recognize the sickening flavor of the other Fae’s magic.
It was Reefe, the Fae who’d tortured me on Dhuinne when Caspian’s power wasn’t up to the task. The one who’d nearly torn my magic free of my succubus core, uncaring of the agony he caused in the attempt.
I lifted my gun, sighting along the barrel.
The air between us shimmered, distorted by magic as Reefe and Albigard traded reality-bending attacks. My finger tightened on the trigger, the Makarov recoiling in my hand. Neither Fae staggered, the bullet either missing its mark entirely, or deflected by whatever energy Reefe was wielding.
Caspian’s unnatural green gaze fell on me. He dropped into a crouch, prowling sideways as he lifted a gun of his own. Unthinking, I swirled into vapor before he could fire at me. If I’d expected him to express surprise at my newly undead status, I was disappointed. His face hardened, and quickly turned to take in the rest of the battlefield.
The fight between Myrial, Nigellus, and Rans was still raging. Caspian stayed behind the cover his companion was providing, as Reefe and Albigard traded magical attacks. I flew around, trying to find a better angle of fire, but then several things happened in quick succession.
Rans rematerialized in Caspian’s line of sight, going for another dagger attack on Myrial. Guthrie slammed into Reefe, presumably hoping to interrupt his magical defense. Whether it was effective was an open question—Reefe staggered for a moment, but Guthrie went flying backward as the shield of magic around the Fae flickered a sickly yellow-green color.
And Caspian lifted his revolver, firing several rounds into Rans’ body.
I rematerialized with a cry of, “No!” and fired wildly at Caspian. He staggered but didn’t fall, even though I was absolutely sure one of the bullets had hit him in the center of his torso. An instant later, both he and Reefe went down hard as one of Albigard’s attacks made it through Reefe’s defense.
Whirling, my eyes landed
