Page 113 of Hellish Witch

“C-Call them off,” I slurred, gasping for each shallow breath. “Put the ward back, or you won’t have a coven left to lead.”

He rolled his sunlit eyes. “I’m not stupid, Eve. I’ve made a deal with the lead hunter. He’s only going to take the covenelder. I’ll keep everyone calm while they take your useless father.”

“You fangless fool.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I didn’t have time to argue with the traitor; the hunters were almost to the fallen ward line. The first few aimed spelled pistols at us as they closed in, scanning the area in a cautious sweep.

I couldn’t take on over fifty armed hunters. Right now, I’d lose to five kittens.

The ward was my only hope.

I dug deep for the dregs of my magic. It was like trying to grasp a handful of syrup. Thick and sluggish, it responded slowly. I urged it on, mentally trying to reach for the void where magic should have sparked.

I threw my power at the ward line.

It bounced off the dead stones.

Alvie snatched my arm, tugging me back to his side. “Stop it,” he sneered. “I was going to take you on a date after all this, but you’re being an ungrateful bitch!”

“I’m devastated.” I raked my claws deep across his arm.

He let me go with a hiss, eyes blazing. “I’ll deal with your insubordination later. First, I need to greet my allies.”

“They’ll kill us all.” I grabbed at him, missing his glowing arm by inches. “Fix the ward, Alvie!”

He peddled back, ignoring my urgent plea. I couldn’t raise the ward myself.

But I hadn’t been raised in magic. I’d been raised in violence.

I leaped at the golden mage, wrapping my legs around his waist and forcing him to stagger under my weight. I pressed my claws to his throat. “Do it, you idiot!”

The closest hunter lifted his pistol, magic sparking off its barrel. A grin slashed through his lined face. “Stupid fucking demons.”

He fired off a round as I dropped from Alvie’s back.

The mage jerked, stumbling. He fell to his knees with a whine, sunlight extinguished, clutching at the centre of his chest. Blood gushed down his pale shirt, the liquid almost black in the darkness.

The next bullet slammed into my shoulder, rocking me back. Another shattered my kneecap. Pain roared.

Burning. Scorching. Searing.

My jaw clenched on a scream.

I abandoned the traitorous mage in a pool of his own blood, clutching my shoulder and staggering behind the nearest tree. Every step was a hot poker to my blown knee. I half-hopped to the next trunk, trying to put distance between me and the hunters as I pushed my failing body toward the coven.

“Leave it,” a male huffed. “It’ll bleed out, anyway. We need to hit their satanic base before any of the other vermin scurry off.”

Spelled bullets hurt so much worse than regular ones. Like acid being poured into the raw wounds.

Wisps of my powers jumped to the screeching joints, battling to reverse the damage. Hot metal worked out of my flesh, the blood-covered round flashing in the moonlight as it fell to the dirt. Warming magic soothed the pain, leaving behind a fierce ache and ragged holes in my clothing.

Dull thuds filled the forest as the hunters moved.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and tested putting weight on my healed knee.

I couldn’t let the hunters reach their target.

The coven wasn’t in any position to defend themselves. Most of them were healers, and probably drunk by now. They were unarmed and unprepared, even if Orion must have felt the ward break.

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