Page 179 of Rose and Shadows
“Nowhere near fast enough to stop a threat that stands right before you this very instant.”
In the next second, it was clear he wasn’t just talking about himself, which was already bad enough, as I felt a wave of movement and magic rushing toward us—a massive fucking wave.
And then hundreds of vampires, wolves, and magic-wielders, Light Fae, and Dark Fae burst into the area, some with teleportation creating a magical lightshow effect, others speeding in through blurred movements. They came from the tear in the fabric of the place ahead of us and all the way over to the right, the way we’d come in earlier.
Four hundred of them, I counted rapidly.
It was what was left of the thousand of Gregor’s army that The Shadowed had been tracking while we’d been in here. We’d been worried that Gregor would send them in alongside the two thousand he already had engaged in the battle where Velra was.
In the next second, vampires and wolves were forming a circle around Sylas, leaving a four-foot gap, though, where he was able to see out to us. Then all those with magic swept a joint, highly-powered shield over him. When he tried to get up, it shoved him down onto his front, his hands clawing at the ground either side of his head.
“Gregor went about breaking you in the wrong way,” Morien told Sylas. “Your body and your mind cannot be shattered. However, your heart most certainly can.” He called his power then, thrusting his hands up to the sky like he had before, flash lightning sparking.
He was invoking Risen Reckoning. Fucking again.
And he turned it toward my dad and me.
“No!” Sylas screamed. “No! Don’t fucking do this!Stop!”
My dad fought to move and actually managed to burst us from our current position—but only twenty feet away.
It wasn’t enough.
I felt my ribs beginning to heal, but it wasn’t enough either.
There was nothing we could do.
I looked out at Sylas and tears welled in his eyes.
He kept trying to get up, but was forced down again and again.
His magic sparked, but snuffed out.
My dad stroked my cheek. “I am sorry, Lazriel.”
“Not your fault.” I nuzzled against him. “None of it ever was.”
I grimaced as I heard Sylas roaring when Morien struck, thrusting that wave toward us.
The air shifted all of a sudden.
Cold wind rushed toward us.
And then I was gasping as a figure cut across my vision, then stood in front of us, their back to us.
Even from the back, he was recognizable.
That broad form, the perfectly styled long black hair, the thousand-dollar suit—and the might.
Lucian Black.
He staggered for a brief couple of moments as Risen Reckoning slammed into him.
But he held, just like my dad had when he’d taken it during the CRS facility battle.
“Fool,” Morien spoke. “Ryker will not be happy with you for endangering your life.” His lips twisted. “Although, just thinking about the utter collapse he will suffer when he discovers you have been taken from him will grant me immense pleasure.”
“The only thing on the agenda for you is agony, necromancer.”
