EJ’s energies, his own personal maths, said he was concussed, but coming to.
Konstantin was down, full of holes, but not true-dead. Shiloh, holding a bloody sword, dragged herself to him and cackled. “Money, money, money. Show me the money.” Cousin Wacko cut down with a single strike and picked up his head by the hair, twirled it, blood flying. Nothing tried to get out and possess anyone.
Karson was beheaded.
Willim was beheaded, a sealed containment vessel on his bloody chest, propped against the blade still inside his rib cage.
Nyoka was rising from the floor. She screamed. Eyes filled with orange light. Nyoka was still possessed.
Shilohmoved. Grabbed Nyoka’s arms, throwing her back. Grappled on the floor in the blood and filth.
If Shiloh killed Nyoka, the demon would body-jump and her proximity meant the massive EEB in Nyoka would possess my cousin before the staff’s powers could pull it away. The futures were certain.
EJ tried to roll to his knees and managed to vomit everywhere instead.
I made it to my feet, hands dangling like the dead weights they were, and surveyed the room with my souped-up magic.
Grizz was down, bleeding out.
Raccoon had slumped over Boots, protecting her with his body. Boots was near enough dead that I had no idea how to bring her back without a full trauma team on-site. The futures showed no trauma team nearby.
Pretty Thang was sliding himself across the floor toward Peewee, who was trying to stanch bleeding in multiple deepwounds. The giant woman had a handful of X-stats and Everhart healing amulets. Precog told me the two would be okay.
Walter was down but coming to. His eyes opened, gleaming their human brownish shade, untainted by darkness. His elixir had worn off. He’d killed Willim. The position as Master of the City of Chattanooga was his if he wanted it. That was funny too, in the insane way of a traumatized brain, but my throat now ached too much to laugh.
I focused on Konstantin. There was a sealed vessel beside him. He hadn’t taken in an EEB.
Walter walked toward the fighting women. He bent, hooked a finger through a small circular handle on a containment vessel on the floor. Another. In his other hand, he picked up a sword. Hefted it for balance and weight. Futures shifted. Potentialities went darker.
EJ took a breath. Shoved himself partially upright with one hand. From a pocket, he pulled two sets of palillos. Vision wavering with darkness at the edges, I wondered how many sets of the castanets he’d carried into battle. How many he’d used.
The futures again altered in my mind, improving some outcomes. In others, people I loved died.
The third and final sacrifice on the floor was still alive, his heart fluttering, his breaths shallow and fast. Dying. That would be bad.
Almost idly, I wondered if I could save him. I was full of power. Power drunk. Maybe I’d kill him instead? My blue-white tendril of power was blazing, jacked up from the ley line. I sent it across the room and into the sacrifice’s body. Pulled all the moisture out of his tissues and into his bloodstream. Gave his heart a little jolt to remind it to beat. Sent astasisworking into his wound and clotted the severed artery over.
I had never created astasisworking or ahealingworkingfrom raw magic, but the maths made sense right now, my mind open and my magic operating inside the ley line, the ley line’s power inside me. The man breathed deeply, and his heart steadied. Interesting. Since that worked…
I directed a hit of ahealingworking into Boots, a lift to her heart and lungs and kidneys. Into her brain, not that I thought it would help. There was too little life left in her. At some point I feared I’d howl at the moon in frustration and grief that I hadn’t saved the woman. I added in a touch ofstasis, to give her more time. Another spark ofstasiswent into Raccoon, along with a healing spark.
Walter recovered his shortsword from Willim’s body and turned toward Nyoka. His face was etched with grief and pain, the holes in his flesh already showing signs of healing. Whatever had been between them in the past, whatever the woman had done to him, he cared for her. He stood over her, watching. “Angelina,” he said. “Do you see the demon still within her?”
EJ said, “I hear it.”
Walter lifted the blade over his head.
“No,” I croaked. “The elixir…” My voice whispered away, unable to speak, unable to tell them that the witches here in the demon circle had been able to dispossess their EEBs and be their own again. Anything they could do, Everharts could do better.
The sword started to fall. It was a clumsy killing stroke.
Pretty Thang lifted a weapon, shot Nyoka three times in the back of her neck, severing her cervical spine. Nyoka’s head rolled at a bizarre angle. Not true-dead, but close—paralyzed. Her eyes blinked.
The sword clanged on the concrete. Missing. Walter sobbed.
I shoved astasisworking into Nyoka. It was easy. So much magic. So much power.
I could keep it. I had handled raw power all the time as a child. Easy, so easy.
