Chapter 110
Scythe
Lyle’s four paws are steady as he thunders across the dirt. I open fire on the soldiers on both sides, the automatic rifles I took from enemy soldiers finding their marks. Lyle leaps over the bodies of Blade and Blair, my sworn cheetahs. They go to their regina now, as I fight for mine.
The sight of their bodies powers me, so that when the shadow snakes, slithering over the ground like translucent abominations, launch themselves at us, I send a powerful psychic blast that fires them tumbling backwards and away from us.
But our path is not yet clear. There are the two rows of crocodile soldiers guarding Mace. I knew Katerina’s rex would come after Aurelia eventually.
Except they are not looking at us at all, but above towards the vortex where my regina disappeared. I can stop neither their bullets nor their bodies. A fight here will be to the death.
Instead of advancing on us, the biggest male gives a harsh command and they fall back, towards Ghoul’s sitting body and surround him as if to protect him. The sides of the truck are pulled upwards and they are contained within the vehicle once again.
They had only come to kill Aurelia, I realise, and now they mean to use this vehicle as a fortress.
Mace’s truck lies before us, the shadow vortex up swirling high above, nothing but a manifestation of hell itself. Xander had put himself into that darkness for us. Had condemned himself to it. And yet the fifth member of our pack is still a member of our pack. They both must be saved.
Serpents writhe over the cabin of Mace’s truck, protecting him in a final stand. The battle rages behind us, our felines protecting the academy. Somewhere, I hear the nimpins chirping.
Lyle growls low in his chest, the rumble spreading through my thighs. “Kill.”
“The serpents,” I say, remembering an old burn in my neck, “they’re all venomous.” And our regina is not here to suck out the venom this time.
Behind me, Eugene lets out a crow. “Where are we up to, guys?” Savage calls, trotting up behind us, Eugene bouncing in his carrier. Next to him is Stacey in golden lioness form, looking terrified but willing to help.
Savage nods, readjusting his bedazzled goggles. “Do it, Stace.”
The lioness tosses her head, and from her back, no less than twenty colourful nimpins, collected from the departed anima students, fly up in the air and open their tiny beaks.
I throw up a psychic shield around my brothers just in time.