Thirty-Five

My knees didn’t want to hold me. Tobias was going straight for Dierdre. 

He looked—average. Absolutely, overwhelmingly forgettable. 

Except that horrific creature possessing him. 

Except that obsession in his too-big, too-bright eyes. 

I tightened my hand on the obsidian knife. I could take a shot and hope. Possibly I’d fuck it up, probably it’d fuck me up. All in all, it seemed like a bad option, really. 

“Dierdre!” I shouted, over the rain and rise and fall of excited conversations. 

“Two o’clock, Rory!” I heard Taig roar. 

Adrenaline poured through me. I scoured the clouds and threw up the shield out of pure instinct. Through this dome none shall leave or come unless it is with me. 

The sky rippled and shimmered. The sound of a bell striking reverberated in my bones, followed by a flash of movement as the background beside Dierdre blurred.

I had to move. But nothing made sense. Nothing was quite…real. 

My legs worked. They were real. I desperately clung to the sensation of them stretching, pulling me onwards, toward Dierdre. The magick of my ward slid over my skin, over my soul, and I grabbed Dierdre. As I will, so shall it be. The ward wouldn’t stop an angel for more than a split second. It’d just knock me the fuck out when it was smashed. 

Her arm was small in my hand, thin. The knife I forgot I was holding bit into her and she cringed as she looked up at me—but her expression cleared. 

Well, that was three of us un-angeled. 

Shame only two could cast, wasn’t it? 

“Homefires,” I told her, quietly. “It’ll buy us some time.” 

Her legs wobbled less than mine as she stood and hefted her jars. Her jaw was tight and her shoulders hunched, but she was on her feet. And I wanted her the fuck out of there. 

Running wouldn’t work. There was an Amor literally in the wind right now. We had fuck all backup. 

“How’s your Banishing?” I asked her, taking a slow step back. 

“I know how.” The words trembled but they reached my ears. 

I didn’t withdraw the knife, just took another step back, then another. But Tobias’ legs were longer and his eyes were fixed on her.

As he passed by a ward, the obsidian on the ground flared and the witches all burst out in gleeful laughter, focused entirely on one another. 

You could see how people might think that sort of happiness was good. Maybe it was, sometimes. But my heart broke for them.

“You should run,” she told me quietly, and the words didn’t shake, now. 

I snorted, ignoring the way my heart squeezed. This was it. This was as good as this situation got. So I drew up the memories of the first spell I’d ever learned. “Walk in the shadows and blot out the light,” I began. 

I heard her swallow. “Walk in the shadows and blot out the light.” 

The mist was back, snaking around our ankles. “Find your home in the deepest of night,” I continued. My ankle rolled as the ground beneath me shook. 

“Find your home in the—”

“Hey, arsehole!” 

Clint’s voice made a reflexive flare of fury spurt through me. My fingers bit, hard, into Dierdre’s arm. “Find your home in the deepest of night,” she said, stumbling over the words. 

“Smith!” I heard Taig bellow. “Stand down!” 

Of fucking course. 

Need not your name or proof of your spite.” I was jostled from behind and knocked into Dierdre. 

“Get your filthy hands off her, you ugly slut,” Clint snarled. 

I was grabbed and pulled but kept my grip on Dierdre. “Need not your proof of a—no, no,” Deirdre sucked in a breath, and I could feel the spell deflating as Clint shoved me again, a typical schoolyard bully shove in the shoulder. I wore it and stuck to Dierdre, more worried about Tobias and his immortal driver than this man of below average credentials making his demands. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful, this loser can’t hurt you anymore,” he crooned to Dierdre. His eyes were overbright as he stared at her. The guy reeked of roses.

As he lifted his service weapon I realized, suddenly, that today had ruined roses for me forever. If that was all it ruined, it was going to be a great day.

Deirdre’s eyes widened and her mouth opened as time slowed to a crawl. Spells swam through my head like bees. Oh, I knew what was happening. But I, very deliberately, didn’t cast any of them. 

Because, you know what? Fuck Tobias. And fuck Clint. 

A gun barked and light flashed from the muzzle. Dierdre jumped in my hand and I put myself between her and Clint grimly. Tobias fell, dead as a doornail.

Some of the conversation around us stopped for a moment, like everyone could suddenly breathe again.

“Oh, Elders!” Cici breathed, nearby. “Someone shot that man!” 

“Banishment spell!” I shouted, relieved. 

There were nine of them, in three groups of three. My coven worked together as well as any other. We knew what we were doing, and we’d be strong enough to do it. If Clint happened to get Banished, well, I wasn’t going to lose any sleep over him.

“No,” Deirdre was saying, horrified. “No!” 

Yes, yes, yes. I walked her backwards as Clint’s body arched impossibly, his eyes glowing like two spotlights on the back of a ute. He was still holding his gun, but you didn’t bring firearms to a magick fight, and I gave no shits about that. 

Janet spoke up first, leading her group in the Banishment spell, the mixing bowl dangling, forgotten, in her hand as they began to follow her lead.  

And Amor came whistling out of the clouds, her expression grim, broom between her legs and wand in hand. 

My heart stuttered. “Arthur!” 

He lifted his staff and she saw it coming. I knew she did. I felt her disdain in my soul. 

There but by the grace of a random angel go I. 

Arthur was blown back, and she swung her wand toward the coven. No. Furiously, I locked my hand around Dierdre, went heavy, and sent my magick into my Blowback Charm. 

Amor was knocked flying and Arthur ate dirt. The coven was scattered by the force of my charm. Even with me anchoring her, Deirdre fell back a few steps but I didn’t let her go, sticking to her like a cheap shirt in summer. 

Unaffected by physics or magick, Clint was straightening. Growing. Glowing. His gaze swinging toward us. 

My mouth went dry. I had no qualms about sacrificing that specific guy. Just, you know. Time. Spell complexity. Keeping folks alive while that goes down. 

Details.