Origin of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector #3)(7)



There were seven total, demons of all shapes and sizes. All were different. Horns, no horns, spiked skin, talons for claws. Two were actually mages, if I had to guess. They looked human, at least. The attackers were standing in the road, but approached the sidewalk where we stood.

“Nix, run!” Ares shouted as he plunged his sword into the gut of the nearest demon.

Indecision tore at me, but only briefly. Though I hated to leave a fight, I couldn’t let these jerks get the vessel of truth. Ares could handle them.

I spun toward P&P, sprinting toward the cafe. But a mage nearest me threw out his hands. A blast of wind hurtled over me, forming a shimmering barrier in front of me. I shielded my face with my arm and tried to plow through it, but I slammed into a solid wall.

Pain flared in my arm and I stumbled back.

Shit.

Running was out. I raised my sword and turned, taking stock. Ares was cutting down two demons while another two approached me.

I charged the nearest one, a demon with a wickedly curved sword and muscles that bulged out of the leather vest he wore. He raised his blade, but I parried, blocking his steel with my own. I kicked out, nailing him in the stomach. The breath whooshed out of him and I used his shock to plunge my blade into his neck.

Beside me, Ares swung his sword like a whirlwind, slicing through demons as if this was a game.

But it wasn’t. More appeared, three in the street and one on the sidewalk. A mage conjured a fireball and hurled it at me. I swung my blade up, blocking the fireball, which exploded against the steel. Heat seared my face as sparks flew, singing my skin. The light from the flame blinded me.

A heavy arm wrapped around my waist, clutching tight. I lost my breath, plunging my blade backward blindly at the level of my waist. It sunk into flesh. A roar sounded at my ears as the arms around me loosened. I yanked away from my attacker.

My vision had finally cleared.

And we were so screwed.

Ares was cutting through demons left and right, but there were still a dozen of them. Bad odds. And more were appearing every moment.

“Fire from above!” The voice sounded just as a fireball hurtled down from the sky, landing directly on the nearest demon’s head. It flattened him, sending him to the pavement.

Across the street, the air shimmered, an opalescent sheen that was about the size of a car. For the briefest moment, my dragon sense tugged me toward it, then it was gone.

Weird.

Another demon charged me as an icicle flew down at him, piercing the skull of his nearest compatriot.

A quick glance overhead showed Cass and Del, hanging out of their windows and firing their magical weapons. Aidan leapt out of one window, transforming into a griffon on his way down. Golden magic swirled around him, dissipating to reveal a massive winged beast with a huge beak and fierce eyes. His feathers gleamed in the lamplight as he hurtled toward a demon on the ground. Roarke shifted midair as well, his black wings stretching wide as his demonic form appeared. He swept through the sky, aiming for the mage who was throwing fireballs.

I turned back to my attackers as two lunged toward me. Though I’d only looked skyward for half a second, it’d been enough time. One demon grabbed the box that I clutched to my chest, tearing it away. He yanked so hard that the leather strap snapped and I stumbled forward.

The thief dodged away as another came for me, blade raised. His flame-colored eyes blazed.

“Come on now,” he growled.





Chapter Three





Panic beat frantic wings within my chest as I swung my sword, desperate to cut him down so that I could rescue the beaker. He blocked my strike with his blade, then swept out with his massive claws. They raked across my side and stomach, sending pain flaring.

I gasped, biting back a cry and stabbing my sword toward his middle. He dodged, swiping out with his claws again. This time, I was faster, receiving only a shallow slice to my ribs. He growled his displeasure and I thrust my blade up into his gut.

His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. I kicked him in the middle, dislodging him from my sword. He fell backward and I turned from him, searching for more threats. Ares beheaded a demon while Aidan chomped one in two with his massive beak. I couldn’t see Roarke, but assumed he was in the sky or behind me.

The thief who’d stolen the beaker wasn’t far off, only ten feet away and dodging fireballs shot by Cass from above. I sprinted toward him, lungs burning and the wounds in my side aching with pain.

Another demon attacked me from the side, but a fireball landed on his head when he was only feet away. He roared as it flattened him to the ground. I dodged his flaming body, but another demon sprinted for me.

I had to get to that box! “Cass! Del! Backup!”

The demon who raced for me was only three feet away. I was about to swing with my sword—which would have been highly ineffective as I was still running after the demon who had stolen the box—when an icicle plunged through the top of his head. Del’s weapon of choice.

Blood spurted and my stomach lunged at the grisly scene, but I turned back, racing for my prey.

“Go!” Cass shouted. “We’ve got your back!”

I sprinted harder. Demons came for me, but each was struck down by a fireball or icicle. Flesh burned and blood sprayed, an apocalypse of demon death all around me.

But I ignored it, trusting Del and Cass as I gained on my prey. He was dodging icicles sent by Del and doing a fabulous job of not getting hit, but they slowed him down enough that I caught up.

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