CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR #2
There isn’t a shred of remorse in her answering smile.
“Once every weak, human-loving gargoyle is dead, yes. This world was created for gargoyles. Humans and da’kai are abominations that should have never existed.
We are going to finally right Alarin’s fuck-up and return this world to the times of old.
Soon, the only things left will be the strong and iron-willed gargoyles who will lead our species into the next great era of our rule over this world. ” An arrow joins the bow in her hands.
My magic punches through the ironweb.
I fling out a hand and bathe her in fire. She laughs, a dainty hand rising to cover her sensual lips. I choke the flow of magic.
“I assumed you were up to something. But annuleaf won’t save you,” she says, victory smeared all over her perfect face.
My ears prick toward the sound of her voice.
“You can’t burn an illusion.”
I click my tongue. “I guess every power has a limitation. Interested in yours?”
Her emerald eyes flash with the same wicked enjoyment that curls her lips. “Please, do enlighten me.”
I zero in on a point a few feet behind the image of her. “You can’t project your voice with it.”
I flood the area with fire. Her scream almost masks the twang of a bowstring.
I dive to the side and slam into the wall of the narrow passage.
The arrow whizzes past my head as Indra bursts out of the conflagration and into the alley.
She hits the ground rolling. I tuck my wings and blast her again before I whip around and sprint toward the ledge that sits a few dozen feet above the beasts stampeding toward Council.
My shoulder barks but I ignore it. Exhaustion drags at my body. I bury it. The constant, brutal screaming tears at my mind and all its little frayed edges but I drown it out with thoughts of Laney, unable to fly, and the male who would never leave her behind.
This is war, and I’ve already wasted too much time.
I fling myself off the ridge. Greedy eyes peer up at me as I fall, every flap of my wings the sum total of what I have left to give. My boots just scrape the sea of spurs reaching for me before one last, desperate downstroke carries me above the teeming mass. I spear for the closest ship.
A metal grate in the deck is thrown wide and an uninterrupted tide of da’kai pours out of the cargo hold below.
I tuck my wings and bathe the deck in my hottest flames as I plummet from the sky, pain leaching into my very bones at the draw on my waning power.
The da’kai scatter and shove each other off the narrow ramp braced against the dock in their efforts to escape my wrath.
I send another swathe of flames down that dark hole in the deck.
I’m rewarded with the unmistakable sound of bodies tumbling down stairs.
I roll my shoulders and assault the air with my wings a second before my boots collide with the grate. It clangs shut, the sharp clack of metal-on-metal spearing through my skull. I slam into the deck. My knees buckle with the force of my landing, but I keep my feet under me.
I whip around and throw a bolt on the grate.
My fire has reached the masts, and the thick wooden poles groan as they burn.
Before I can give the casual cruelty of what I’ve just done a single thought, I sprint toward the rail and fling myself off.
The rest of the ship goes up like tinder in a dry heat.
A plume of smoke and slew of horrific shrieks follow me as I race for the second ship. It falls as easily as the first.
My body smolders from the inside out as I fly for the next ship in the never-ending parade of these godsdamned ships.
I grit my teeth and home my keen vision in on that metal grate in the deck.
My palms are still balled into tight fists at my sides when a blast of air slams into me.
I wobble precariously and fight against the barrage, but it forces me down.
I careen into the deck and fold around one of the mast poles. My breath keeps going but I don’t.
Four pairs of boots strike the deck behind me.
I cradle the vacuum that is my lungs as I scramble to my feet.
The da’kai stream past behind them, seemingly aware enough to know who is friend and who is foe.
I palm my last dagger in one hand and the dregs of my magic in the other.
My seizing lungs relent, and I suck in a wild breath.
My lip curls as I take in their pristine armor and the unmarred blades angled at my throat. I level a withering glare on the male that stands a step in front of the others.
“Only a coward sees battle and walks away clean,” I snarl. I shift my glare to the other male and two females behind him, hurling the insult at all of them.
One of the females huffs and flips her coppery-brown braid over a shoulder. “Only an idiot falls for a trap and ends up covered in all that.” Her bright-green eyes rake over me as she tosses a dismissive finger in my direction.
Her companions eye me with equal distaste. Their postures are casual. Faces relaxed and unmarred by the horrors of war and pain and death. My lips peel back off my teeth.
A wall of bodies slams into the deck between me and them.
Alexei darts to my side. Streams of red and black trickle down his leathers, his face smeared with it beneath his helm. “Where are Griff and Laney?” he demands.
I shake my head. “Still in the temple.”
Davina sizes up the four gargoyles across the deck. She is as drenched in blood as the rest of us, her thin, metal-plated armor dented but intact. “Gregori, Fenir, Isa, and Nova. You’re all supposed to be dead,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Oops,” the cocky brunette bitch says.
The shorter female sidesteps one of the males and looses an arrow at Davina.
A male beside the Archon jerks two fingers and the arrow bounces off a shield, his silvery magic rippling as it absorbs the impact. “One way,” he quips with a tilt of his head.
An arrow passes through our side and slams into her chest. The Archon and her warriors surge forward. I smile. The pricks’ armor won’t be clean for much longer.
Alexei’s hand clamps around my elbow. “Come on. We have to burn the rest of those ships.”
I hunch over and pant for a few precious seconds before following him into the air.