A Lost Light (The Bestiary #4)

26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Elijah

M y morals and priorities had changed quite a bit since my death, imprisonment, and subsequent freedom and rebirth, but… still, the brutality around me was hard to accept.

And yet, I had a feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they improved. Before the rebels put a stop to this attempt to cause a war.

I kept one eye on Andy and the other on Dyre, feeling pulled in two different directions the entire time, even as I punched cultists and shaped my innate magic into spells that would incapacitate, rather than kill. I didn't look behind me to see whether the people I put down were left unconscious, or killed by the rebels who followed.

As much as I wanted to keep my conscience clean and at least some small part of my soul untarnished, this was a battle and one that could prevent much greater casualties.

The cultists were quickly dispatched, and it became very apparent that this was no challenge for our little group of outcasts. But then the wind picked up, carrying with it the taste of magic, something that reminded me vaguely of Aahil, but cool and fluid, rather than fiery and consuming. Jinn.

The front door of the house we were guarding burst open, and a fit elder man took up a stance on the front stairs, a woman his age hovering behind him. The councilor and his wife, clearly drawn out by the magical disturbance around them. We had hoped to take care of the issue before they had a chance to react. But the wards on their property were high-level. And the two witches were clearly sharp and prepared for an attack—it made sense with such well known political figures. I was only surprised they weren't accompanied by security. But then, most powerful witches saw that sort of thing as a show of weakness. Councilor Darkbrier seemed the type, judging from the stern line of his jaw and the defiant tilt of his head as he took in the scene in his front yard.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, twin balls of magic forming in his hands, poised to strike.

His wife was no different, her posture reminding me of a martial artist, lightning crackling in her palms.

“Get back in the house, councilor,” Belladonna called firmly, planting herself between him and the street. “We're here to stop a kidnapping.”

He scoffed as the breeze continued to increase, swirling around us. I scanned the area, seeing the unease in the others as well. The councilor seemed unaware of the impending danger as he argued with the witch who was standing among the corpses strew across his yard. His gaze slid over those of us still standing and he shook his head. “This is some stunt cooked up by the mangey rebels with their ridiculous propaganda, isn't it?” He lifted his hand. “Believe me, little girl, you'll get no media coverage for this. No attention for your cause. Once we've dispatched you, your little stunt will be erased.”

“Incoming,” Junaid said, suddenly materializing at Bella's side. “We were right. They've got a jinn.”

The councilor opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted when a portal ripped open on his lawn, somehow bypassing the circle Andy and Dyre were still maintaining. That was a whole lot of power to sidestep. And yet, from the portal emerged a single witch.

She was dainty, with delicate features and blond hair that looked nearly white in the combination of moonlight and porchlight spilling from the councilor's front door. And yet, she carried herself with the confidence of a much larger, more imposing person. Andy and Dyre had dropped their circle and moved closer to the councilor, just off to the side of the front stoop. Niamh and Zhong took up position on the other side, while the elementals and the boogeyman lingered somewhere nearby, but out of sight, holding to their dematerialized forms if I had to guess.

I reached out my senses, and froze. It was all I could do not to stare too long and give our newest housemate away. The jaguar was stalking from the hedges, creeping out behind the new witch, his long tail twitching and yellow eyes glued to his prey.

“Let me guess,” Andy said wryly into the stilted silence caused by the witch's arrival. “Another O'Leary asshole?”

The blond witch smirked, her tone too lazy, too laid back for the situation. Probably because she had a card up her sleeve that she didn't think we knew about. “A cousin, actually,” she drawled, then sketched a sarcastic bow. “Prime Johansen, leader of the True Race.”

Apparently, she had replaced the O’Leary cult leader we had helped the SA eliminate previously.

Andy snorted. “True race? Goddess, you morons get more ridiculous with every stupid new leader.”

The Johansen woman shrugged, as if anything Andy said was irrelevant. “Unlike my predecessor,” she said with a crooked smile, “I know how to prepare for the unexpected.”

A large, flickering ball of fire appeared in her hand as she spoke, far more power radiating from the spell than this witch's aura said she should possess. I tensed, preparing for the worst when she threw the spell right at the councilor and his wife, where they were still standing on the front steps.

My concern was wasted, since Aahil appeared and caught the powerful spell in one hand, absorbed it, and tossed a stream of jinn fire back at the witch. She threw up a barrier that deflected the flames, somehow.

Then all hell broke loose.

The councilor turned and threw the balls of magic he held in his hand… right at Andy and Dyre. Dyre deflected them with ease, but the Darkbrier had already moved on, his expression flat as he muttered a spell that hit several of the rebels and left them twitching on the ground, mouths open in a silent scream.

“David!” his wife shouted, her hands up and ready to cast, but unsure who was the real enemy. “What are you doing?!”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the stairs. “Come,” he demanded. “We are joining the winning side.”

Zhong rushed forward to block the councilor's path, while Niamh held a blade to the man's throat. Everyone started talking over one another, shouting questions and demands. And amidst it all, Prime Johansen smirked from behind her barrier.

It was then that I saw it. The amulet she wore around her neck. And the soul that resided there. Sticky tendrils of energy connected the milky-colored stone in the amulet to the councilor. No. To the aura that now dwelled inside the councilor.

“He's possessed,” Aahil growled, planting a hand on the councilor's shoulder and attempting to burn the other jinn out by overloading him with more powerful energy, displacing the possession. The councilor howled in pain. But it was uncertain whether it was the witch or the jinn inside him who was in the most pain.

“Aahil!” Andy shouted. “Don't kill him!”

The councilor's wife attempted to defend her husband from Aahil, and Andy leapt into the fray. They all went down in a tangle of limbs and magic. But my attention was drawn back to the enemy witch behind her barrier, grinning like everything was going to plan.

Rebels assaulted her barrier with magic, but it held, her power bolstered by something else. Someone else. I crept toward the barrier, an idea forming in my mind as my angelic power surged through me, bolstered by something dark, something dangerous and seductive. Angel and necromancer. Wraith. I… was drawing something from Dyre. But I wasn't about to question it. Instead, I followed my instinct. My intuition. What I once would have called my divine knowledge.

Slipping between the ranks of rebels, my gaze landed on the crouching black jaguar who patiently waited behind the witch, his tail lashing. His yellow eyes met mine and he nodded his sleek head. Reaching out, I planted my hand on the shimmering barrier that was visible to my third eye, to the part of me that sensed not only magic, but souls specifically. This barrier wasn't a normal casting. It was fueled by someone else's lifeforce. Some other magical creature this woman had stripped of their magic.

Seething with righteous indignation at the cruelty of it, I pressed my own angelic magic outward, shattering the barrier.