Fear, cold and sharp, sliced through her. Shattered the shock rooting her into uselessness. Clarified her fogged, bloody vision.
“Back-to-back,” Hypaxia ordered, voice low and calm. One knife—that’s all they had. Why the fuck didn’t she carry a gun?
But Ithan had a gun. On his lifeless body, Bryce could make out the gun he hadn’t had a chance to draw. How many rounds did it hold? If the demon was fast enough to sneak up on him, though, she didn’t stand a chance. Not unless …
“What kind of magic do you have?” Bryce murmured, pressing her back to Hypaxia as she eyed the second demon. She’d kill these fuckers. Rip them apart piece by piece for this.
“Does it matter?” Hypaxia asked, angling her knife at the first demon.
“Is it energy? Like lightning?”
“Healing and wind—and the necromancy, which I can’t even begin to explain.”
“Can you pinpoint it? Shoot it into me?”
“What?”
“I need a charge. Like a battery,” Bryce said, the scar on her chest glowing faintly.
The demon before her bayed to the night sky. Her ears rang.
“To do what?”
“Just—do it now, or we are going to be royally fucked.”
The first demon howled. Like so many beings from the Pit, their eyes were milky—blind. As if they’d been in the dark so long they’d ceased to need them. So blinding wasn’t an option. But a bullet … “You think a knife is going to work on them?” Bryce demanded.
“I …” Hypaxia guided them toward the quay railing. Three feet remained until there was nowhere to go but the water. Bryce shuddered, remembering the sobeks that had attacked them that day fleeing the Bone Quarter.
“Use your healing power and hit my fucking chest,” Bryce snarled. “Trust me.” They had no other choice. If Hunt’s power had charged her up, maybe …
The creature nearest the witch-queen lunged, snapping. The two females slammed into the railing.
“Now!” Bryce shouted, and Hypaxia whirled, shoving a shining palm to Bryce’s chest. Warmth flowed into her, soft and gentle, and—
Stars erupted in Bryce’s mind. Supernovas.
Ithan.
It was as easy as taking a step.
One breath, Bryce stood against the quay. The next, she was beside Ithan’s body, behind the creatures, who pivoted toward her, sensing that her scent had shifted away.
Hypaxia tapped the golden brooch on the lapel of her jacket. With a woomph of air, her broom appeared before her, and the queen leapt onto it, shooting skyward—
Bryce grabbed the gun from Ithan’s waistband, clicked off the safety, and fired at the closest demon. Brain matter splattered as the bullet plowed between its sightless eyes.
The second demon charged at her, Hypaxia forgotten as she hovered on her broom in the air above. Bryce fired, and the beast dodged the blow—as if it could feel the air itself parting for the bullet. It was onto her, aware of what weapon she bore—
The demon leapt for her, and Bryce rallied her power.
Stepped from her place beside Ithan’s body to the open walkway behind the charging creature.
It hit the ground and spun, claws gouging deep. Bryce fired again, and the demon used those preternatural senses to veer left at the last millisecond, taking the bullet in the shoulder. The shot did nothing to slow it.
The demon jumped for her again, and Bryce moved. Slower this time—Hypaxia’s power was already funneling out of her.
“Thirty feet behind you!” Hypaxia ordered from above, pointing, and Bryce gritted her teeth, mapping out how to get there. The dance she had to lead the creature into.
It leapt, claws out, and Bryce teleported back ten feet. It leapt again and she moved, body shaking against the strain. Another ten feet back. She could make the last jump. Had to make the last jump as the demon sprang—
Roaring, Bryce flung all of herself, all that remained of the spark of Hypaxia’s power, into her desire to step, to move—
She appeared ten feet back, and the creature, sensing her pattern, jumped.
It didn’t look up. Didn’t see the witch-queen plunging to the earth, dagger aloft.
Bryce hit the ground as Hypaxia jumped from her broom and landed atop the beast, slamming her blade into its skull. Witch and demon went down, the former astride it like a horse from Hel. But the demon didn’t so much as twitch.
Scraped palms and knees already healing, Bryce panted, shaking. She’d done it. She’d—
Ithan. Oh gods, Ithan.
On wobbling legs, she scrambled to her feet and rushed for him. His throat was healing—slowly. He stared unseeingly at the night sky.