In search of new targets.
One of the goons screams, dropping into a panicked roll that does nothing to quell the flames. They devour him. Incinerate him. It takes a long time. He does not go quietly.
My sisters and I get to our feet. The witches still surround us, their protective circle unbroken. I can tell from the twin looks of awe on my sisters’ faces that they can see them too. Our ancestors. Our mother. Our magic.
The fire is starving. Hunters drop like the flaming shitbags they are, one after the other, screaming for their mothers.
I watch in abject fascination until the silver flames collide, surging brighter than ever, seeking their final target.
“No. No!” Brendan screeches, batting uselessly at the flames crawling up his legs. “Lizzy, call them off! Tell them! I’m pure! I’m the chosen vessel! I’m?—”
“A good fucking guy?” I laugh.
Brendan, predictably, does not, probably because his balls are on fire and he’s screaming like—well, I’d say a little girl, but little girls are fucking badasses, and don’t deserve the comparison.
The flames continue their ascent, slowly inching up his torso, his face. I watch as the other half melts. I watch as his remaining eye explodes. I watch until there’s nothing left of him but a glowing skeleton, the flames spinning around him like a fiery tornado, chewing through every last bit of bone until Brendan Hayes, my horrible ex, leader of the Wielders of the Righteous Flame, is no more than a stain upon the earth.
The fire finally fades away. One by one, the witches disappear, my mother lingering just a moment, offering us the faintest flicker of a smile.
And then she’s gone, too.
My sisters and I collapse into a group hug, sobbing together, laughing, the leftover adrenaline zipping through our limbs, leaving us boneless.
I don’t know how long I’m out for, but the next thing I know, a demon is looming over me.
I blink up at him. Wait for my brain to arrange the strange shapes and colors into something recognizable.
“Merrick?” I croak out, my lips curving into a smile.
“Thank the fuckingdevil.” He drops to his knees and sweeps me into his arms, gathering me close. “I thought I’d lost you. Are you injured? How bad is it? Tell me what hurts.”
“Where are my sisters?”
“They’re fine. A little banged up, but Oliver and Warren have them.”
“Helena?”
“Injured a wing during the fire, but she’s fine. Patched herself up. She’s waiting for us back at the house.”
Relief washes through me. “Merrick, I… I need to say…something.”
“Save your strength, love. I’m taking you home.”
“No, I… please,” I pant. “It’s… important. I need… something.”
“Anything. Just tell me.”
“In my shirt pocket, there’s…” I cough. Gasp. Try again. “It’s important.Please…”
“Hold on, Elizabeth. I’ve got it. Okay.” Keeping one arm around me, he plumbs the depths of my pajama pocket. Finds the treasure inside. Brings it close to his face, inspecting it carefully.
Scowls. Intensely.
“Oh, for fuck’ssake, woman!”
I crack up. It hurts to laugh, sends me into a coughing fit, but dude… you should see his face. Totally worth it.
“Come on, Professor,” I tease, finally catching my breath. “You’re not even the slightest bit amused?”
