Chapter 19
The first rule of supernatural warfare was that the moment you thought you had the upper hand, the universe would kick you in the teeth so hard your great-grandchildren would feel it.
I should have remembered that rule when Jean-Marc's laptop started screaming like a hyena with its tail on fire.
It should be the first rule they teach newbies.
Forget about stressing secrecy and how intent is the key to magic—this was just as important.
"She's riding the eclipse energy directly," Jean-Marc announced, his voice tight with the kind of fear that made seasoned warriors wet themselves. He lifted wide eyes from the laptop screen. I saw everyone’s dread reflected in them.
"The power signature is unlike anything I've ever seen.
She's not just using stolen magic anymore.
She's become a conduit for the eclipse itself. "
My mouth opened to ask the dozen questions exploding in my brain—How is that even possible?
What does that mean for us? Are we completely screwed?
—but the universe had other plans. My next contraction bulldozed into me with the force of a Monster truck over kindling, stealing my breath, my words, and any hope of forming coherent thoughts.
But this time, the babies' response was different. Instead of chaotic magical overflow, their power moved with deadly precision. Through our soul-speaking connection, I felt their instinctual terror. They were feeding off my fear, their father’s rage and worry, and the collective "oh-shit" energy radiating from everyone around us.
More than that, they could sense the malevolence in the magic itself.
The power was so fundamentally twisted that even unborn babies knew it was epically, apocalyptically bad.
"The contractions are syncing with her approach," Clio observed, her hands glowing as she monitored both my vital signs and the babies’ health. She was still trying to coax them to come out, but it wasn’t working. "Every spike in labor pain corresponds with an increase in her power levels."
"She's using the parasitic bonds to access the birth energy and use it to fuel her final assault," Thalia observed.
"I should have known she would have a dozen contingencies should you put an obstacle in her path. After all, you’ve been forcing her to develop new approaches since you came on the scene. "
"She can’t get to you guys if Mollie, Nina, and Amelia can cast a protection over the birth itself," Tarja said into my mind and everyone else’s if Mom’s nod was anything to go by. "But you need to activate it now, before she gets close enough to interfere."
I heard Tarja talking to Mom, Nina, and Nana through the process, but I didn't catch any details.
The contractions stole everything from me.
It became obvious they were casting the complex birth protection when the air in our bedroom began to shimmer.
Three generations of Duedonne women were combining their power to protect the babies and me.
Mom's kitchen witch magic created a foundation of nurturing protection.
Nana's raw, wild energy added layers of fierce defensive fury.
Nina's Pleiades power bound it all together with threads of starlight that no earthly magic could break.
"The birth protection matrix is in place," Tarja confirmed.
"It hasn't changed the power she's bringing to bear. I've never seen anything like it. She's breaking magical laws and rewriting them." Vera frowned as she looked at the screen over Jean-Marc's shoulder.
Was everyone safe? It wasn’t just me in danger.
My power allowed me to sense every supernatural being on our property.
There were so many contributing their strength to our defenses.
The freed prisoners poured decades of suppressed rage into protective barriers.
The gods added their unique powers to the mix.
Even the pixies from Daethie's mound had joined the effort.
Their tiny forms were crackling with surprisingly potent magic.
But it wasn't enough. Lyra's approach was like a natural disaster gaining momentum. She wasn't just coming for my babies anymore. She wanted her prisoners back. And she wanted to remake the world in her own image. She was going to start with everyone I loved, as well.
"She’s like right on top of us," Jean-Marc called out in a tight voice.
He was holding it together surprisingly well, considering the magical tsunami bearing down on us.
"The dimensional barriers are weakening and inverting.
Whatever's been trying to break through from the other side? They're about to succeed."
The contraction that hit me then nearly drove me to my knees, even lying down. The pain was excruciating, but what terrified me more was feeling the babies' magic spike in response to the immediate threat. It was weaker than it had been.
"They know she's coming," I gasped, pressing both hands to my belly as the triplets' power continued building. "They can sense her through the parasitic connection. And they're scared."
"I’m going to rip her entrails out for this," Aidon growled.
Hades placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Fear will make them fight harder. And after what she put them through, they deserve the chance to fight back."
"She's here," Kieran announced from his position by the bedroom window. His dragon senses were sharper than anyone else's.
Tseki nodded in agreement. "I can smell the stolen magic on her. It reeks of violation and despair."
No one was prepared for what she actually did.
The first wave of Lyra's assault wasn't physical or magical.
It was a mind-fuck of epic proportions. A crushing weight slammed down on my brain and every other person in the house.
Their screams and groans made that clear.
Even Hades grabbed the sides of his head.
She was turning our fears against us. Every secret terror we'd buried deep came clawing to the surface like rabid wolverines. All I could think about was my paralyzing fear that I'd fail everyone when they needed me most.
Lyra didn't stop there. She twisted those fears and magnified them until they felt like absolute certainties.
She gave us the bone-deep conviction that we were already defeated.
She made us believe that everyone we loved was going to die screaming, and it would be our fault for being weak, pathetic, and utterly outmatched.
My hands started shaking so hard I couldn't make a fist. Someone was making choking sounds, and the rational part of my brain knew it was psychological warfare. The rest of me was busy drowning in the certainty that we were all going to die tonight.
“Phoebe.” Tarja's voice cut through the mental static like a blade through butter. It was sharp and demanding. “Focus on my voice. This is artificial fear—she's pumping terror into your head like poison gas.”
“I know that,” I tried to think back, but the words felt sluggish.
“No, you don't. You're drowning in it.” Her mental tone carried the kind of authority that brooked no argument. “Remember who you are. You're not some helpless victim—you're a Duedonne witch carrying the next generation of badasses. Act like it.”
Right. Fuck this noise. I reached for my Pleiades magic, pulling it through the connection despite another contraction trying to steal my focus.
The power flowed through me like liquid silver.
I wrapped it around everyone's minds like protective armor.
"Cast personal mental shields, now!" I gasped, pouring everything I had into the barrier.
Countless magical signatures flared around me. A second later, the crushing weight of manufactured terror lifted like fog burning off in sunlight. Jean-Marc's shoulders straightened as his brain cleared, and he immediately turned back to his monitors with renewed focus.
"Well, that was unpleasant," Nana said, shaking her head like she was clearing cobwebs. "Little bitch thinks she can mess with a Duedonne's head? I've had PTA meetings scarier than that." I wasn’t so sure about that. Although some of those Soccer Moms were terrifying.
"She's jamming the network," Jean-Marc announced, his fingers flying across the screen.
"I'm losing contact with monitoring stations across three continents.
" I hadn’t realized they managed to establish them that far.
Luciana talked about adding some in Europe and getting the other Pleiades on board.
"Looks like we’re fighting blind," Vera said.
"Everyone ready for—" Layla never finished her sentence.
The entire side of our bedroom exploded inward.
The sound was so loud I thought the world was ending.
One second, I was looking at familiar wallpaper, the next I had a front-row seat to supernatural warfare as chunks of drywall, insulation, and splintered wood rained down on us.
Thank fuck for Aidon's reflexes—his shadows formed a protective dome over the bed before debris could turn me into a pregnant pancake.
Hades handled the rest of my family and sent most of the debris right back outside.
I wanted to renovate the room and add a balcony so Aidon and I could sit and watch the ocean at night.
Now, I had a reason. Through the gaping hole where our wall used to be, Lyra stepped into view like she owned the place.
The witch standing before us bore no resemblance to the broken, partially transformed creature I'd left in the collapsing pocket dimension.