Page 77 of Pure Magic
The demon slumps as black blood soaks the ground. Then it lies still.
Jonah says, “Sylvia’s right. We can pull him out of the center. He’s exposed and vulnerable with little energy left to fight back.”
“No.” I’ll not risk them to save Adam. “We’ll have to find another way.” In this moment, I realize I trust Adam. He left to save Trina, and to do so had to make a promise to help Ariana. He’s no longer helping her. He gave her what she needed to open the gate, but now he’s fighting back with the little power he has left after being drained.
Ariana shoots more black magic at him. The shield is wavering, and the staff shakes in my hand. It’s harder to hold as magic forces itself through the birch in a rush to meet the countering magic.
At the west edge of the gate, a demon as wide as the height of two men flies in. Warm air whooshes across my face from the batting of its leathery wings. Two legs hang from its dark-gray body, and witches duck from its huge, deadly talons.
With a wide human mouth, it shows a jagged row of teeth, dripping with thick slime. It circles to make another pass.
At the outer ring, a fire witch with long brown hair is hoisted to the top of a stone. I think she’s from the Kent coven. She draws fire from the pyre at the center and hurls balls of flame at the flying monster.
It bats two away as if they’re a child’s toy. The third lights its left wing. The next crashes against its chest and sends it barreling to the ground, where it screams and burns.
Sussex earth witches band together and shoot magic arrows into the gate.
I have no idea how many demons are trying to come through, but the arrows slow them.
Adam collapses but keeps his magic shooting toward Ariana. His skin is so pale I worry he won’t last much longer.
When I woke, and he was gone, I never thought anything could hurt worse than knowing he’d left me. Even with good cause, it struck like the tip of a whip. This is far worse. I feel as if I’ll explode with the pain building inside me. The helplessness is pure torment.
Kaden, skin as gray as death itself, grips Adam’s leg.
I lift my hand to lash out, but color creeps back into Adam’s cheeks. Kaden is feeding Adam the last of his energy.
Adam shakes him off and says something I can’t make out over the growing battle.
With a head as wide as one of the standing stones, a snake looks out the gate, its forked tongue slipping from its thin mouth. Its black eyes shift from side to side as it drops between Ariana and Adam, stopping their battle. It breaks the magic from both directions. Coiling its body, it lifts its head and hisses at Adam.
Ariana laughs and lifts her hands back to the gate. Green lightning cracks from her as she mutters another spell.
The words are unnatural, and my ears thrum as my stomach knots as though I’ve eaten something not meant for human consumption.
In a slow flash of light and magic, a second gate opens. Not with the crashing of the first, but as if someone thrust their hands in a tiny hole in the sky, and gripping both sides, forced the opening wider. Within, it glows mossy green.
Screeching as if amused by the new opportunity, demons fly out of the first gate and into the second.
Both sides of the battle for Earth stop fighting to watch the second gate. It’s as if time has stopped.
A moment later, bloody pieces of demon bodies drop back to Earth like refuse.
From above, the fae king’s voice booms. “You dare attack me.” Nothing remains of the amusement Midhir displayed when we took shelter in his woods. Terrifying and powerful, he shoots blue fire from the second gate.
Witches run from the center as their demon combatants burst into flames so hot, some melt into puddles and others explode.
Ariana screams and calls something into the demon gate.
While she’s distracted, I grip the shield staff tighter and rush toward Adam. I take his hand and drag him along the ground. As if the gates are holding him, a sucking wind whips up, trying to swallow us. Gripping tighter, I dig my heels into the ground. Still the wind pulls at me. I don’t know if it wants us both or just Adam, but I hold tight and meet his gaze. “I’ll not lose you like this.”
“I can’t let them take you. They think I belong to them because they’ve tasted my blood.” Adam opens his hand.
“No!” My grip is firm around his wrist. I can’t let him go. Breath short and muscles aching, I’m ready to drop the damned staff to use both hands to hold Adam. “I don’t care what they think. You belong to me, and I to you, Adam MacNab.”
A hand wraps around mine on the staff. Sylvia’s grip is relentless as she pulls with all her might.
Henry Dove grabs Sylvia around the waist, and determination strains his face as his arms bulge.
