Idris strode forward, his face a determined mask as he made a beeline toward Timothy. He intended to take my friend prisoner.
My muscles tensed. I knew I couldn’t even tangle with a demigod without Grim’s blood, but I readied myself to protect Timothy.
Aaron stepped in front of Timothy in a protective stance, having zero idea he was the least likely to survive a dog fight between immortals.
Before Idris made it halfway across the drop-off lane, someone darted in his path. A dark blur. Idris reared back. Qwynn’s midnight hair was pulled into a long, full braid that reached past her shapely ass. The golden one-piece she wore dipped down past her cleavage to just above her navel, giving a healthy view of either side of her generous breasts.
Judging by the way Idris appraised her from head to toe, he was as surprised as he was aroused by her appearance. She squared off, shooting him with a spiteful stare, though he almost had a foot of height on her.
“You killed him.” Qwynn’s normally aloof voice shook with rage as she turned her attention to Galina. “You used me for information, then killed the only one I ever loved.”
Hey. That’s my line.I frowned.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve never loved anyone other than yourself,” Galina said with a dismissive wave. I couldn’t help but agree with Galina. Though I imagined it had been the closest Qwynn had come to real love.
Idris continued to eye Qwynn as if she were a wet dream come to life. He even adjusted himself in his pants. For blood bags’ sake…
Qwynn didn’t acknowledge his lascivious interest.
“Maybe I’m not the brainless pawn you think me to be, Galina,” Qwynn said. With that, she raised her hands, purple magic lighting up in her palms. Idris threw his own hands up at the last second, his icy blue meeting her violent streak of purple.
The air sizzled and crackled as a burning sensation pressed against my skin from being too close to the battle.
If someone had told me Qwynn would put herself between us and him, I wouldn’t have believed it, but Qwynn and Idris warred with their powers.
The vampires continued their onslaught on Fallon, making sure he couldn’t get back up. Sekhmet stepped away slowly, appraising her handiwork in keeping Fallon down.
How could there be this many vampires already? Up until last night, it had been only me, but now I was looking at fifteen vampires. Everyone she bit turned into a vampire.
I could sense the satisfaction Sekhmet felt, watching them attack Fallon. I read the praise in her eyes as her children did her bidding.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Fallon needed help. But when I started forward, Timothy’s surprisingly strong grip held me back.
Another dark cannonball smashed into the vampires, sending them flying away from Fallon. Marcella helped Fallon up, then pushed him in our direction. Dark brown skin with hair as glossy as the black feathers along her dress. Marcella’s eyes turned to dark fire. Her figure was five times as generous and half as tall as Galina’s, but her feminine ferocity overwhelmed me. I’d once believed the goddess hated me, but she had saved me from Idris.
I caught Fallon as he wavered on his feet. His face was smashed bloody, and his right arm dangled, useless at his side.
“I thought you’d be on my side,” Galina said to Marcella, a sneer curling her lip. “Grim murdered your sekhor. Your blood-bound love.”
“My heart may be dead, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate nasty, manipulative bitches like you,” Marcella shot back.
Sekhmet didn’t wait any longer. Throwing herself at Marcella; they disappeared in a flurry of fists. Idris slowly gained ground over Qwynn. Covered in a sheen of sweat, she gritted her teeth, trying to push back.
The odds were stacked against us. Qwynn and Marcella would not win, and they knew it. They were going to be taken captive. But Qwynn and Marcella were queens willing to sacrifice themselves to save the king. The god of the dead. As long as the powerhouse of souls survived, there was a chance the odds could be evened.
“We need to get to safety, now.” Timothy strained the words. We grabbed Fallon and retreated into Sinopolis.
With a quick, apologetic glance at Aaron, Timothy closed his eyes and tilted his chin up toward the doors.
A glowing orb appeared over his head. I’d seen this once before. Close-up, I could see the magic whirling inside it. When he shot his hands out, a rush of luminous glyphs emerged from them. They beamed out through the doors in a constant stream. The chain of the glyphs layered along the bottom of the door, slowly building in chains until lines of magic covered the entrance. He was barricading the entire hotel.
Aaron stared at Timothy in open awe. I couldn’t tell if his underlying feeling was shock, fear, or if maybe he was just deeply impressed.
When he’d finished, Timothy loosened his tie. Blood still stained his suit and dotted his cheek. “They won’t be able to get in now,” he said, slightly out of breath.
“Are w-we trapped in here?” Aaron asked, frowning.
“No, people can come and go, but no immortal may enter or exit,” Timothy said, though I saw the flash of hurt on his face. “But it’s not safe for you out there.”
