Page 129 of Echoes of War

He offered a hoarse laugh, his vision going unfocused again. Pressing my hand against his heart, I faced Henry. “He’s pulling in some of my power, but he needs every ounce of magic you have except for the last drop. The ritual I performed … my magic will help support his lifeline for now, enough for me to get Reina, then she can heal the rest. If you can move him, pull yourself to the side, don’t go too far—she needs to be able to find you.”

Henry nodded, accepting his task without protest. I took off, my decision on what to do now clear.

Amaia

There are five rules to fighting: never move back in a straight line, never take your opponent’s energy head on—a fatal mistake the inexperienced tend to make—never and I mean absolutely never set in your stance long enough for someone to guess your next move, always fight your opponent as they fight you, and place the son of a bitch where you want them. Unfortunately for me, everyone who partook in basic combat training understood those principles and now I was facing the consequences of it.

Fortunately for me, most of the soldiers here had been at the sport of kicking ass for a few years, where I’d been at it my whole damn life. Not to mention I wasn’t even using my magic. I needed to conserve it. I wasn’t sure what for, just had a feeling in my gut. This wasn’t my first rodeo; I knew this was far from over despite the die downin soldiers.

If Covert’s Province was worth a damn, this would be their first wave. The rest was yet to come. Which meant on top of conserving my magic, I needed to be careful using any ammo too. I was suspicious by the lack of Pansies on the field as well. If not for war, then what was Moore making them for? Most of the first wave of soldiers had used up their bullets and other explosives when they panicked at our ambush. Outside of those who had some sort of metal, hand-to-hand combat it was.

I’d finally worked my way through the football team worth of soldiers working to take down little old me. It was a compliment, truly, to think I needed that many men to contain me. I chuckled. The lone soldier remaining narrowed his eyes, palming me in my fucking face. I kicked his dead friend in the ribs with a cackle, not getting anything out of it other than riling him up a bit.

I’d promised Riley I’d stay close. He was nervous considering what had happened to me last time.

The soldier motioned to facepalm me again, but I grabbed onto his wrist, pulling him over my body and locking my legs around his arm. His bone snapped beneath my weight and I grinned at his blood-curdling scream. I flipped on to his sternum, bringing my arms around his neck. He bit into my side, taking a chunk of my skin off, blood oozing down my body.

“Urgh,” I screamed, “fucking bitch.” I snapped his neck, pushing his body off me.

I’m sick of this shit.Pounding against my chest, I scanned the battlefield for my family.

I was out near the beach on the other side of our makeshift forest. They’d pushed me out far, which made me nervous as shit at what that meant. There was only one reason to get me alone and with the lack of lethal force that they’d fought back with …

“I don’t mind goin’ a round, old time’s sake,” a familiar husky voice said inmy ear.

I whipped around, air magic spilling out of me in genuine fear. I hadn’t heard him sneak up on me, so much could have gone wrong. Then it would all be over. All of this for nothing.

“Amaia,” Seth croaked, “I’m not here to fight you.”

“I don’t care whatyou’rehere for, Seth. The point is you’re here, on my playground, ready for me to play with,” I said, realizing what I was doing.

It hadn’t been my intention to steal the air from his lungs, but I found an odd sense of joy at the sight of him clutching his throat. I released some of the pull, letting small bubbles of air escape through, toying with him. He deserved to suffer, deserved for every moment of pain I was about to give him.

Being on the battlefield out in the open was fucking stupid. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was him going mad over the exact emotions he’d left me to deal with. In theory, someone capable of doing what he did, destroying our family, risking our lives, was not capable of suffering emotionally. Physical pain would have to do.

“This can … no one else needs to—” he sputtered.

I circled him with a ring of fire, to hell with keeping my magic locked down. There was irony in the fiery pit under his feet.

Reaching down, I pulled my throwing knife from my ankle holster. With a flick of my wrist, it lodged in his hip, the flames bowing out at my command.

“You killed Prescott,” I screamed, spitting in his face. “You killed Jax, but that wasn’t enough for you, so you killed Prescott too!”

“No I didn’t! It wasn’t me,” Seth yelled, pulling the knife free with a groan.

Taking a step closer, I waved my other knife in his face. “Liar! All you do is lie, Seth.”

I tossed the knife through his hand, piercing it to the hip he’d sought to cover up and put pressure on. Something changed in his eyes. They darkened, filling with rage that hadn’t been presentbefore. He yanked it out, clutching it tightly in his hand, twitching at the urge to drive it into me.

I welcomed the fight, him refraining from one was unsettling. In the years that I’d known Seth, he’d only turned down a fight once—the day he’d felt guilty for betraying me.

The memory seethed at my soul. I pulled the air back from his lungs, sending him hunching over dropping the knife to the side. That was all it took for him to abandon whatever false pretense of peace he’d come over here offering. I didn’t stop there. My fire trailed up his uniform, starting with his stupid fucking boots. I kept the flames over his body at the perfect temperature, not too hot to burn him, but still raging enough to hurt. His hat wasn’t as lucky. I burned it to ash with a smirk.

Fury danced in his eyes, his face completely red. “Fight me, Amaia!” He bellowed, “Fight me like the woman you claim to be!”

“Why does everyone say that like I’m afraid to kick their ass?” I seethed, releasing him from my powers.

No magic didn’t mean I had to give him a chance to fight on fair footing. I pounced on him, wailing, not letting up as my fist drove home. His face swelled from the impact, and my fist sang with pain.

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