Page 4 of Wicked Warlock
“Not the first time I’ve thrown a car.” One by one, I tossed them back. “Catch!”
I hurled it back over the other side and loud crashing filled the air. A volley of debris came hurtling over the gate like Dustwick House was using every skill they could muster as they threw more things over the gate with their powers—mailboxes, garbage, car parts. That shit rained down on us like a monsoon. Tuck held up his hands and fire blasted from them, incinerating everything to snowy ash.
Even with the fire and hurtling cars, House Malback kept coming in. They lined up in front of us, ready for battle. I glanced around, looking for Tabi and Serrina. Something deadly hung in the air, and I needed to know they were okay. Tabi was stopping chunks of boulders from hurtling through the air and killing students. Serrina stood still as stone, concentrating on keeping the warlock forces to one point of fighting. Brax, our Guardian tiger shifter, paced around her in his tiger form, catching any debris that came her way and terrifying any warlock who dare to try and touch her.
It was chaos, madness, hell, and fire all in a matter of moments. And my school, my home was paying for it. Fury burned through my body and this needed to end.
“Cassidy! Get a hold of your house.” Penny pointed toward the warriors from Malback House who charged through the opening. Their black bomber jackets blended in with the night, and the hydra-like heads on them almost seemed to move with each running step they took through those gates.
Suddenly, Ophelia and Cross came vaulting back over the wall. They landed just beside me. Ophelia was covered in ash, blood, and grime. She smiled at me. “Battle!”
Cross landed then glanced down at her. “Be right back.”
She gave him a salute with the tip of her blade. “Enjoy.”
He turned and sprinted out toward the oncoming Malback warriors. At the last second, he place his foot on a rock and hurled himself forward. He soared through the air and landed only a few feet ahead of everyone. Strands of his dark hair fell into his face and over his gold eyes. He pulled two daggers from behind his back and held them at his sides. Burgundy smoke seeped from his palms across the way toward the gates.
“Let them come.”
Cassidy sprinted past me, charging at a wave of Malback warlocks. She held two short swords at her sides like they were extensions of her own arms. She moved next to Cross and grinned up at him. “I agree.”
Cross shook his head. “Always the terrifying little ones next to me.”
Those charging warriors looked like darkness itself about to consume her tiny body whole. She turned from Cross and thrust her sword up so fast it was nothing but a blur of flashing silver steel. Metal hit metal and sparks flew as she stopped the sword of a boy who was over a foot taller than her and wider. His eyes went wide when he locked gazes with her. In that one second of hesitation, Cassidy twisted her body to the ground, sweeping her leg out and knocking both of his out from under him. She held one of her swords at his throat. He lay there with wide eyes and shock riddling his face. Cross spun around, kicking and throwing fists in all different directions, knocking five of them across the courtyard, sending them flying into the hard stone exterior. Their bodies crashed into the wall and fell limply to the ground. He stood straight, daring one of the swarm of warriors to face him. None of them moved.
He lifted his chin. “That’s what I thought.”
Cassidy didn’t even spare them a glance. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, yet when she held one of those swords over her head and roared, they all took a small step back. Strands of her straight black hair fell back from her head and her cheeks turned bright red.
Every one of the Malback House warriors held still as statues. Confusion riddled their faces at seeing one of the heirs they believed to be dead standing beside their general. Cassidy pointed her sword at the line. “If one of you moves, you will face me, and it will be to the death. Take a step or bend the knee, the choice is yours.”
One by one, those vicious fighters wearing their dark bomber jackets dropped to one knee before her. She was their general, their leader. In that moment, I pictured visions of her grandmother commanding the warriors in the Philippines and knew Cassidy would be even greater. Some of the tension eased in my stomach when the warriors fell to Cross and Cassidy.
Tabi joined our group, and I started to feel as though we were unstoppable together.
“Bloody hell.” Grayson sped to Tabi’s side covered in dust. His chocolate hair held a dark stiff burgundy color that could only be dried blood. “Ruddy cockroaches, the lot of them. You smash one and another shows up.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” Tabi let her yellow magic seep into the ground at her feet. Vines sprung from the dirt and began shoving the gates back into place. They wove around each other, creeping and crawling. The metal gate groaned under the force of her power.
I growled, “The council, I presume?”
Leo nodded, pointing at the one in the center who had similar features to Beckett. His eyes were a darker blue, and his hair wasn’t blond like Beckett’s—it was dark and slicked back from his face. Yet they had the same bone structure, but Beckett had a kindness to his face that this man never would. He wore a long dark cloak that billowed around his legs. “Corvin Dustwick, Beckett’s dad and their leader.”
I could tell by the distaste in Leo’s voice, he hated him. He pointed to the other man. The smaller, skinner one, with a bald head and a look of pleasure on his face, like he enjoyed the pain and destruction. “Jovanni Archer.”
Then lastly, he pointed to a woman, who looked so much like a bullfrog I expected her to croak at any second. Even her skin held a green tint that did not play well with the dark purple cloak she wore. “Cora Ferguson.”
Their cloaks billowed around them like black smoke at their feet. Rage seeped into my body, and I tried to swallow it down. I’d heard stories of Cora’s vengeance, Jiovanni’s torture skills, and Corvin’s murderous side. They deserved to be punished, here and now. Corvin grabbed the student nearest him and shoved him out of the way.
“Move, you fool.” He grabbed another student. This one was even smaller and wearing the black bomber jacket with the green siren on the back. He shoved him forward, making the boy stagger past the kneeling Malback House and straight toward us.
“I didn’t tell you to stop!” Spit flew from his mouth as he spoke, and his chiseled cheeks turned a bright red. “Fight! I command you to fight!”
The boy wore the jacket that belonged to the Whitlock House of charmers. He was short with messy blond hair and brown eyes, and thick freckles that spread out over his nose and covered his pale skin. He flinched away from Corvin, trying to weasel out of his grasp. I saw Corvin’s fingers tighten on the back of the boy’s neck. The muscles in his forearm tightened a second before he shook the boy like a rag doll and threw him to the ground.
Corvin’s eyes seemed to almost glow in the night; his breath fogged as it puffed from his mouth. “Weak! You are all weak! Stand now! Fight!”
“Allow me.” Penndolyn stepped out in front of Corvin, stopping him from taking another step. She held up her hand and that emerald smoke danced through her fingers. She arched her eyebrow at him, and the corner of her lip pulled up into a dare me, bitch smirk.
