Chapter 27 #2
‘I seriously need new friends,’ I muttered, pulse spiking. ‘Ones who don’t abandon me as gargoyle bait.’
* * *
I ducked under a low branch, vaulted a fallen log, and tore down the path, boots hammering the damp earth as gravestones blurred past.
The air tasted of rot and rain, clouds strangling the light until everything felt like a half-lit nightmare. My lungs burned, heart battering my ribs, and I clutched my blade as if it was the only thing between me and a gruesome obituary. Which, to be fair, it probably was.
Bootsteps pounded close—Bronte, keeping pace. Gods only knew where Sephy had disappeared to.
‘Did you see it?’ Bronte shouted.
My stomach lurched. Oh, I’d seen it all right. One second, he’d been some dreamboat in human skin, all gentlemanly bow and dazzling smile; the next, his jaw cracked wide, eyes went molten red, and teeth sprouted like he was auditioning for a demonic clown nightmare.
My instincts had screamed nope, and I’d bolted. Assassin or not, I wasn’t a goddess, I wasn’t a mage—and whatever the hell this was, it was way above my pay grade.
‘Why am I even here?’ I groaned.
‘It’ll build character,’ Bronte called back without missing a step.
‘You’re lowkey psycho,’ I muttered, which only made her laugh.
‘He’s moving; coming your way!’ Sephy’s voice rang from my left, and my heart tried to launch itself out of my chest.
‘Perfect. Just bloody perfect.’ I tightened my grip on the dagger and blew out a shaky breath, bracing for impact.
The shadows shifted, and then it was just there—bursting from the treeline in a spray of dirt and broken branches.
Wings like jagged stone snapped wide, blotting out what little light filtered through the clouds.
Its face was worse—half-man, half-monster, lips peeled back over teeth too long for its mouth, eyes of burning embers.
‘Oh, fuck me sideways,’ I yelped, stumbling back so fast my boots skidded on wet grass. My blade shook in my grip, utterly pathetic against the seven-foot freakshow barrelling towards me.
‘Eyes on the target!’ Bronte barked, appearing from the shadows like the smug witch she was. Her palms lit with violet fire, crackling so loud it drowned out the monster’s snarl.
‘Target? That thing is a bloody building with wings!’ I snapped, ducking just as its claws slashed through the air where my head had been. A gravestone exploded into shards behind me.
‘Cordie, keep moving!’ Sephy’s voice rang out from my left, and a flare of Bronte’s golden magic shot past, slamming into the gargoyle’s side. It staggered, roared, then whipped around to glare at her, stone skin splitting open to reveal veins of molten light.
‘Run now, banter later!’ Bronte hissed, hurling another streak of magic that sizzled through the air.
I bolted, lungs on fire, heart pounding my ribs like a war drum.
My survival instincts were screaming, my assassin’s brain yelling at me to engage, but all I could think was nope, nope, nope.
I was fast—but so was the gargoyle. Every beat of its massive wings sent a gale tearing at my hair and clothes as it kept pace above me.
‘How do we kill it?’ I screamed.
‘We don’t!’ Bronte shouted back, grin feral as hell. ‘We trap it.’
‘Fantastic plan,’ I wheezed, narrowly dodging another swipe. ‘You didn’t think to lead with that?’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ she shot back, eyes glittering as she let loose another violent burst of magic.
He swung a clawed arm at me, and I bent back Matrix-style, spine screaming as I narrowly avoided decapitation.
‘I got it. I got it,’ I screeched.
Straightening fast, I drove my fist into his face with every ounce of assassin training I had—only to connect with solid stone.
Agony shot up my knuckles.
‘Crap, I don’t got it!’ I doubled over, clutching my hand. ‘Shit a brick. I think I just broke every bone in my hand.’
The gargoyle didn’t even blink. It just snarled, hot breath rolling over me like burning tar. And I ran… again.
‘Excellent strategy,’ Bronte hollered from somewhere behind me, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Punch the living statue. Inspired.’
‘It was reflex!’ I snapped over my shoulder, shaking my mangled hand as if that would magically un-break it.
‘Sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive,’ Bronte shot back.
‘Because I’m tough,’ I panted, the gargoyle’s shadow swallowing me whole.
‘Because she’s crazy,’ Sephy cackled, hair flying as she suddenly popped up on my left. ‘Cordie, babe, your reflexes suck!’ she sing-songed—right before tripping over a cracked gravestone and vanishing with a shriek.
Pah… nervousness was for ninnies. In truth, I was absolutely shitting myself. But surely they wouldn’t let me die… would they?
The gargoyle lunged, claws flashing like hooked blades, and I ducked under its arm, somersaulted through the air, and landed with a gasp. My chest heaved, every breath scraping raw. My legs screamed, but somehow I was still upright.
‘Well, damn, Cordie!’ Sephy whooped from the ground, scrambling back to her feet. ‘Didn’t know you had moves!’
‘Less commentary, more help!’ I yelled, staggering as the gargoyle snarled again, red eyes blazing.
It reared up, wings spreading wide, blotting out what little light the stormy sky had left. My pulse beat a rapid tune… I was about to be gargoyle kibble—until the air itself shivered.
Shadows snaked out—living chains, wrapping the creature’s limbs, yanking it off-balance. Golden light seared across its chest, burning symbols into stone.
Sephy and Bronte stood side by side now, hands outstretched—Sephy’s shadows curling into a spider’s web, Bronte’s golden magic blazing bright enough to paint the gravestones in light.
The gargoyle thrashed, howling, stone grinding like thunder, but the combined force dragged it to its knees.
‘I thought your shadows could kill everything they touched!’ I shouted, sidestepping a swipe of its claws.
‘Organisms!’ Sephy yelled back. ‘Living things! Not stone! And you’re welcome!’ she added, her grin manic.
‘Stop gabbing and bind it!’ Bronte snapped, voice sharp as a whip.
I staggered back, clutching my throbbing hand, watching as my friends turned into something out of a nightmare and a miracle all at once.
The gargoyle bucked against the bindings, wings beating the air into a hurricane. Bronte’s light flared, Sephy’s shadows yanked tighter, and still it howled, stone teeth gnashing for blood.
Bronte’s lips curled into a feral grin as she dug her heels in.
‘Hold him steady, Sephy—I’m sending this ugly bastard back where he belongs.
’ Then Bronte’s eyes cut to me, sharp and wicked, even as sweat beaded her brow.
‘Oh, by the way, Cordie… did I forget to mention this one has a special hatred for redheads?’
My stomach bottomed out. ‘You what?’
‘Relax, I needed you. Our stony friend doesn’t crawl out unless he smells blood he likes. Congrats, doll.’ Bronte’s grin was pure devilry as Sephy’s shadows tightened around the gargoyle’s throat. ‘You were the bait.’
The creature thrashed harder, its burning eyes locked squarely on me.
‘Bronte!’ I shrieked, but she just winked, lips curling around a spell.
With a flash of golden fire, both witch and monster vanished in a crack of displaced air—leaving Sephy and me staring at the empty graveyard, breathless.
Sephy bent over, hands on her knees, wheezing with laughter. ‘I told you she was an asshole.’
I was too busy trying not to vomit. ‘She used me as bait,’ I croaked. ‘Actual, living, red-haired bait. Bloody bitch.’
I was still glaring at the patch of air Bronte had disappeared through when the space above a cracked tombstone split open with a hiss.
Out she came—hair frazzled, coat singed at the hem, one eyebrow scorched halfway off—but still grinning like the devil’s own cheerleader.
‘Well,’ she announced, dusting ash off her sleeve as if she’d just come back from a spa day, ‘that was fun.’
‘Fun?’ I shrieked, voice breaking like a pre-teen boy’s. ‘You almost fed me to a gargoyle!’
Bronte tilted her head, lips twitching. ‘Bait. Important distinction. Plus, there’s no way I’d let you die, I like you too much.
’ My feeling of betrayal eased a tad, until she carried on talking.
‘And might I say… ten out of ten, doll. That thing wanted your fiery little head more than a dieter wants chocolate cake at a Weight Watchers meeting.’
Sephy wheezed so hard she nearly toppled over.
I jabbed a finger at Bronte. ‘You’re insane. Certifiable. The next time you need bait, find yourself someone else!’
‘Relax,’ Bronte drawled, smoothing down her ruined hair with exaggerated care. ‘You survived. You screamed like a banshee, but you survived. Honestly, you should be thanking me. Like I said, it builds character.’
‘Builds ulcers,’ I snapped, pressing a hand to my chest.
Bronte grinned, singed but smug, eyes glinting with mischief.
‘You’re right, Sephy.’ I told the goddess. ‘She’s a complete asshole.’
At that, Sephy and Bronte burst into laughter, and despite myself, I couldn’t help laughing with them.