Demons (Darkness #4)(12)



“The pack before me consisted of a loose band of scared individuals,” Tim argued. “Our kind don’t do well in that setting. I stepped up, disbanded the old regime, and instilled the new order. We aren’t cowards, and we do not back down. He’s working with haunted memories, no matter how potent. Like a child.”

The Boss flexed, probably hating that comment. His gaze flicked toward the warehouse, deciding. Probably realizing it was a hopeless argument with Sasha in control. Finally, he glanced at Sasha without a word.

Picking up the cue immediately, her gaze shifted to the warehouse. “We’re out of time.”

A strange black mist billowed within the building, creeping out of the broken windows. If not for a glossy sheen containing it, that stuff would’ve been spilling out onto the street. In the middle of the door, standing on two clawed feet, with long, stringy arms ending in another set of claws, stood a ghastly creature that could only be a demon. It was just as vile and terror-inspiring as Charles had always heard.

It stared at Sasha.

“That black mist is not my magic,” Sasha whispered, squinting at the warehouse. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not me.”

Strange sounds erupted from the gnarled and twisted thing, deep and scratchy. The Boss stepped right to Sasha’s side, scary as all hell, ready to protect her with his life. Charles stepped up, too, ready to be her backup line of defense, or her first line of defense—whatever she needed.

“Yeah, right,” Sasha answered the thing. Charles felt his magic stir. She was calling the elements. “Plentiful rewards, right? You creeps are all the same. Although, I gotta admit, you are way scarier than the other ones.”

Charles felt a cold hand on his shoulder. A pale arm and a flat, blue stare was attached. “We must link. She cannot work the demon on her own,” Toa said, an urgency in his gaze Charles had never seen before.

Charles’ balls started to tingle in warning. Toa freaked out couldn’t be good…

“Is she talking to it?” someone asked in a terrified whisper.

“Who else?” Dominicous asked Toa, his face a stern mask of determination, not unlike the Boss.

“I thought she didn’t know how to link?” Charles asked hurriedly, aiming for a steady tone. He didn’t really know how, either. He’d only done it in class a million years ago, and that had been under calm conditions, with him already pegged as the clown in class—he didn’t have to be serious. This was…different. Unstable. Lives depended on it this time.

“Maybe I should just use my sword,” Charles murmured as Sasha took a step toward the thing in the doorway, still staring at her. Still talking to her.

“Hurry!” Toa pushed.

The Boss grabbed Sasha’s arm, pulling her into his body. His sword swung out, white with a gold frost, the effect of taking her blood. Within their line, glowing swords came up in a rush, the Boss’ readiness an unspoken command. Orange, red, and one green flashed; this crew was packing some power.

Toa shook Charles, knocking him out of uncertainty. “Link, damn you! We are out of time. She is already feeling out the magic attached to the demon!”

He felt a tickle of magical touch as Toa’s hand on his bare arm heated up. “I am ready to engage the link. You must reach out to accept it—keep the pool of magic central.”

What the hell does that mean?

Charles took a deep breath and pulled a balanced mix of elements. He felt the energy reaching for him, jagged and sticky. Like threading fingers, Charles linked his magic with Toa—surprisingly easier than he expected. Energy swirled between the two of them, yanking at Charles, then pushing.

“Keep it central,” Toa said again, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Charles clenched his teeth and wrestled with the flow of elements, trying to move his pool of magic away from his body and along the invisible line of the link between him and Toa, like shoving it out along a tightrope. Their combined effort steadied, shaky but manageable.

“Phew, that wasn’t so bad,” Charles reflected, too soon.

“Dominicous,” Toa said in a monotone.

A blast of power surged through the link from Dominicous, shoving way too much magic Charles’ way. He wrestled again, trying to keep it from infusing him and shell-shocking his body. It tried to force its way in, though, tingling along his skin like hot needles, singeing and burning. Too much—it was too much magic!

“Centralize it, you fool!” Toa yelled, his hands balled in fists, sweat standing out on his face.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated with everything he had, trying to force it back out along that tight rope. Trying to breathe through the crushing weight of all that magic; trying to rip off his skin and flash-burn his bones.

Inch by inch it went, back to the middle. Balanced, as much as it could be, seemingly hanging out in the air, waiting for Toa to dip in and use it. So much power. So hard to deal with.

Charles longingly grabbed the handle of his sword as Dominicous asked, “Who else?”

“More?” Charles couldn’t help the whine. This was way out of his league.

“We only need three of high level,” Toa said calmly, once again staring at Sasha. “She is already analyzing the magic.”

“Let Toa handle the chants, Sasha,” Dominicous commanded in a firm tone.

K.F. Breene's Books