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Amethyst drives us out of the city.
I can’t keep my thoughts from drifting to Kyan.
Was I unfair, not letting him explain?
Surely, he proved himself on my side, in the time we had together?
I wish I’d been less shocked and more open to listening, given our shared experience. I mean, he nearly died trying to protect me.
Guilt spears through me, and my thoughts tumble endlessly, without a solid conclusion.
It is a relief that Ammie has the wheel right now.
We spend the first half hour or so in silence, then I manage to rein in my wooly thoughts, and share what I have in mind.
The plan is simple, really. Especially now that Sapphire will be involved as well. Our magic will be stronger than ever, with the three of us there.
Basically, we are going to turn on its head everything that we have been doing up until now. Instead, we are going to do the reverse.
That means no more hiding behind protective wards; living our lives with one eye staring over our shoulders. It means tearing down defenses, and bolstering our magical signatures until we practically become one giant beacon. Anyone hunting for us will be able to locate us from miles away.
Then, we will use my blood to create a summoning spell.
Truth be told, I’m pleased for the distraction, even though I am terrified of what might be about to happen. Any lapse in our conversation brings my thoughts straight back to Kyan. I can’t think about him without wanting to break down and cry.
Stupid. I’ve only known the guy five minutes. Why is he taking up so much mental real estate?
It is late afternoon by the time we pull up at the beach. As soon as I alight from the car, the years melt away. The area is exactly as I remember—miles of white sand under a wide sky, heavy today with rolling banks of clouds. The dry grass along the verge of the path rustles against my calves as the two of us trudge down between the dunes and onto the sand.
A shiver runs down my spine. I shut down memories that are too difficult to deal with and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
Beside me, Amethyst touches my elbow. “She’s waiting for us.”
Our eyes meet, but she hurries ahead before I can reply. I don’t have to ask how Amethyst knows. She and Sapphire have always been aware of each other’s whereabouts. Their bond used to fill me with jealousy, but now I’m simply glad for them, that they have such a strong sister connection.
As we exit the dunes, I catch sight of a slender figure standing at the shoreline. My heart rate picks up.
Sapphire has her back to us as we grow nearer. Her arms are wrapped around her thin frame, a scant form of protection against the elements. The wind is fierce out here, and her hair whips around her pale neck.
She doesn’t turn, but says anyway, “Ammie and Tee. Hey gals.”
“You know, Sapph.” I raise my voice so she can hear over the rush of wind. “Most people use their eyes to see with.”
She does turn, then. A smile lights up her face and she rushes toward us, giddy with excitement.
“Oh my!” I stumble backward as Sapphire hugs me tightly. “So good to see you, kid!”
“Long time, no see,” she murmurs, before bobbing away. She wrinkles her nose in a gesture so familiar that I laugh out loud. “And enough with the ‘kid’ nonsense. I’m twenty-five.”
“Sorry. Force of habit.”
Last time we were on this beach, Sapphire had been a child—a tiny toddler in overalls, clambering over the rocks. I swallow and push the image away before it pulls me under.
She greets Amethyst in a similar manner, enduring a million questions from her older sister ranging from, are you eating enough, all the way to, I hope you’re getting out of the house, you’re looking kind of pale, until I take pity on her and cut Amethyst off.
There’s little time for niceties after that.
We choose a spot halfway up the beach to perform the ritual. Luckily for us, the gray and windy weather means the stretch of sand is deserted.
This is definitely not the kind of thing for an audience.
We all know exactly what to do.
It has been years since the three of us came together like this. It doesn’t matter. Time and distance fall away as Ammie, Sapphire, and I work together with easy, practised motions. Like clockwork.
We have our differences, in personality and in magical ability, but right now, it doesn’t matter. We are witches by blood, and the same blood runs through our veins. Elements of the same magic trace run through our veins.
The sky rumbles overhead as if in portent, as my cousins begin to draw concentric circles in the sand around us. Using Amethyst’s blade, I deepen the cut she made earlier on my hand and sprinkle the resultant blood into the grooves of the circles. As I do so, I whisper an incantation.
Instead of seeping away, the blood spreads, creeping out to fill the shallow wells and form dark rivulets all round us. I watch as each section joins together. Dark patterns begin to form, arcane symbols of summoning that I have mostly only seen laid out in books.
Goosebumps rise along my forearms as I start to second-guess myself.
What are we doing? This is ridiculous.
My cousins should go into hiding, and I should just go back to the Fae and ask for their help once again. Even if giving and taking favors from the complex and often-devious Fae can sometimes be even more problematic than the issue at hand.
“Don’t,” Sapphire says, as if sensing my self-doubt. “This is the right thing to do. I know it, Tee.”
I shoot her a sheepish grin and continue my spellwork.
Amethyst dumps an armful of candles onto the ground. One of them rolls toward me, and I stop it with my foot, bending to pick it up.
“Where did you get these from?”
“I always carry them.” Amethyst shifts from one foot to the other, looking defensive. “Just in case. You’re not the only one with a big handbag full of tricks.”
I exchange a glance with Sapphire, who merely shrugs, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I place the candle where Ammie directs me to, and then watch as she places the rest of them. She digs each one into the sand so they can all stand upright on their own.
Sapphire, always good with fire and light, waves an arm around in a twirling circle, and the candles light up all at once, like the little beacons they are.
Then both of my cousins look at me, and I nod once. “All right. Let’s do this.”
We link hands and begin the summoning spell.
***
At first, I don’t see anything. Then shadows begin to form outside the circle. The patches of darkness lengthen and stretch. The sand shifts, and the darkness solidifies around us.
Hellhounds.
A whole pack of them, prowling outside the widest circle. Amethyst and Sapphire stand with blank, pale faces on either side of me. I’m sure my face is equally pale. I squeeze their hands, and each of my cousins squeezes back, before we all let go.
We are in this, together. Whatever happens, now.
I can hear the low, rumbling growls of the hounds over the sound of the ocean waves. The memory of their hot breath and cavernous sharp-toothed maws from the resort attack turns my stomach.
I try not to think about Kyan. About the tenderness in his green eyes when he looks at me; the gentle touch of his fingers on my body...
No. Shut down those thoughts.
Behind the hellhounds, more shadows form, and then demon wraiths appear.
They look human—mostly. Their eyes are hollow. I can’t tell what they’re cloaked in; at first, they appear to be in ragged clothes, but then I realize the air around them is shifting like a mirage. It is the darkness itself that is clinging to them.
Clothed in darkness.
The very definition of evil.
The wraiths don’t speak. They don’t need to. Terror rips through me and it is all I can do not to drop to the ground and curl up in a whimpering ball.
A slight sound issues from my throat, and I swallow hard, determined to show no weakness. Not to these creatures. The minions sent by Luthor.
To distract myself from the horror of what is in front of us, I raise my chin and pretend a bravado that is all illusion.
“Where is Luthor? He sends all of you, but doesn’t come himself. Is he afraid to show his face?”
The wraith nearest to the circle hisses something unintelligible. The hellhound pack presses closer.
At a glance, I count at least seven or eight hounds and four or five wraiths. It is hard to pinpoint the exact number, when the shadows keep shifting. For all I know, there could be a hundred more hunter hounds or wraiths lying in wait, just on the other side of the rift between this world and their own.
It doesn’t matter either way; we’re hopelessly outmatched.
I turn my head and meet Amethyst’s wide, frightened gaze. She knows it too; there are too many of them.
My voice trembles as I speak again. “Where is Luthor?”
The monsters around me don’t respond. It is as if I haven’t spoken at all.
My heart thuds so hard it threatens to leap out of my chest. I can’t hear much beyond the roar of the sea, and the rush of blood in my ears, and that growling sound from the surrounding pack—a sound that is becoming louder by the second.
If Luthor doesn’t appear—if my cousins die on this beach, trying to protect me...
“I demand an audience with your master!” I shout the words as loudly as I can. My magic, entwined with my cousins’, crackles through the air around us. Sand drifts down from the shallow dunes behind us, and the seagrass rustles, whispering in a sudden gust of wind. “Luthor. I’m here. I’m not running any more. Come on, show yourself!”
One of the hellhounds snaps at the air near the circle. Sapphire is nearest and she flinches backward, even though the creature does not attempt to cross the ward.
Not yet, anyway.
A snickering sound, like beetles scuttling over a wooden floor, fills the air.
The demon wraiths are laughing at us.
Hopelessness rushes through me.
What were we thinking, that the three of us could go up against a demon soul collector, and come out on top?
All the ‘should-haves’ and ‘could-haves’ rush into my mind. I should have gone to the supernatural police and Inspector Maewen Jones for protection. I should have run, like Amethyst suggested.
I could have called on the Fae Winter Court to help me—they did once before, and I know they would, again. Even if the Fae always demand a favor in return, it would have been better than this.
Most of all, my heart aches because I sent Kyan away so heartlessly. Now, I will never know what it could have been like to have a relationship with someone who made me feel so special.
I’ve doomed myself—and my cousins—to certain death on this beach today.
My eyes catch a flicker of movement on the sandy ridge above us.
I look up and a gasp rushes out of me.
Eyes. Deep, dark red. A whole row of them glowing in the unnatural twilight.
More hellhounds. Dozens of them, all fixated on the action about to unfold down here.
Watching. Waiting.
My heart catches in my throat. There’s something familiar about the one in the center of the pack. The wide shoulders; the long legs. The sharp tilt of its head; the way its ears prick up as its gaze slides over mine and holds for a single, burning moment.
A shiver runs over my skin.
Kyan.
His pack stand with him, shoulder to shoulder, hackles raised and lips curled up in silent snarling readiness.
How could I ever have mistaken them for wolf shifters? They are nothing like any other shifter I’ve ever seen. These creatures are enormous, with their long legs and their huge shoulders and intense yet deadly expressions. Even the smallest of them would tower over me, should I ever dare to stand beside one in this form.
These shifters clearly belong to the Otherworld. They look out of place on this windswept beach, silhouetted against the pale sky, even with the demon wraith shadows surrounding us.
The whole pack must be here with him. My heart leaps. At first, I wonder if it is fear that drives the adrenalin spike, but then I realize... it isn’t fear. Its elation.
I don’t know how I know, but I do—Kyan is not here to serve any demon master.
He and his pack are here to protect the bloodline of the witches who helped them. My mother, and my aunt.
The Redfernes.
Ky’s heart has proven to be true. He is here to save me. If he can.
There’s a low growl from directly beside me. My head snaps toward the sound. The demon wraiths are close, hovering just outside the circle. And their hellhound hunters look as if they are readying to leap, regardless of any protective ward that might harm them.
The wraiths aren’t laughing any more.
Slowly, the one at the center of their shadowy group raises its hand and then drops it through the air.
The hellhounds lunge. The shadows engulf us.
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
Literally.
