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Morio squeezed my hands and we began the chant to release the summoned undead. Like many of our other spells, it played with a counterpoint rhythm. Morio began to open the gate.
“Devo shena, devo sherahni, devo shilak. Devo mordente, devo resparim, devo salesum . . .”
As he repeated the incantation over and over, I began to sing the counterpoint. “Walking death, wandering spirits, whispering souls, hear our command. Return to grave, shroud of death, whispering souls, you shall not stand.”
The energy built slowly but steadily, a wreath of violet fire that circled around us. I watched as it circled us, a network of pulses sparking like synapses in the brain. Morio and I kept up the counterpoint and the bubble of energy expanded out. The zombies were almost to the outer border of the circle when the closest gave a shriek as it reached out to pass through the twinkling lights. Within seconds, it fell to the ground and rotted away like a time lapse photo, the final ooze from the body soaking into the ground.
One down, a half dozen to go. Another zombie shuffled up and through the border and within seconds had turned into mere memory. The others paused. While they were soulless, almost automatons, they had some spark of self-preservation built into the magical code that brought them to life.
As they hesitated, Wilbur let out a grunt and a rolling wave of light crested over the zombies. With a unified shriek, they vanished, incinerated in whatever mother of a spell he’d cast. Morio and I stared at him, our own spell dropping as our concentration broke. What the fuck had he just done? More important, could we learn to do that?
He winked at us, then turned back to the fight that was going on between the others. The demons were down a man. And . . . oh Great Mother, help us, so were we. Chase was on the ground and he looked unconscious. Wrapped in the magic, I hadn’t even heard the scuffle.
I scanned for Delilah. She was slashing away at one of the Tregart demons, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. I leapt forward, racing toward Chase, and dropped at his side. He looked pale, and blood covered the side of his shirt. Morio joined me and I waved him away.
“Go help them. Send me Roz.”
Rozurial was by my side in seconds. He frowned when he saw Chase, then pulled out a bottle of something and splashed it over the wound site, through Chase’s shirt. “We need something to bind him with,” he said, fumbling in his pocket for a tin of the salve he carried everywhere.
I looked up at Wilbur. “Your shirt. I need your shirt.”
Wilbur shrugged and ripped it off, handing it to me. I tore it in tiny strips, trying to ignore the sounds of battle raging around me. We had to save Chase—had to get him medical attention. Roz and I bound the strips around him, after Roz slathered a handful of salve over the wound. I struggled to turn Chase long enough to get the material beneath him so we could tie it tight. He was heavy, and when I moved him, the wound began to bleed again.
“Cripes, what the hell are we going to do? We can’t get him to our cars from here.” I frantically looked around. “His breathing is so shallow. What are we going to do?”
Roz leapt up and raced over to Smoky, where he was fighting one of the demons. He’d almost finished the guy off and now Roz pushed him my way and took his place. Smoky hurried over.
“What? What do you need? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “We have to get Chase to the FH-CSI headquarters. He’s been hurt, and hurt badly. I don’t think Delilah knows yet.”
“It’s hard to focus in there. Those brutes are so tough it’s amazing we can take them down at all. Here, I’ll take him through the Ionyc Sea and then return to help you out.” Smoky gathered Chase in his arms and—before I could say a word—vanished.
I wanted a moment to regroup but there wasn’t time. There were still . . . oh hell, still five of the bikers standing and they were driving everyone back. Delilah looked like she’d been wounded, and I saw blood on Trillian’s cheek, and blood spatters on Vanzir. Iris came rushing up.
“We have to do something,” I said to her. “It appears these demons have skin like leather. I don’t know what to do. If we retreat, they’ll just try again!”
She nodded, her lips firmly set together. “I swore to myself I’d never use this again, but . . . we have no choice. I’ll take care of it,” she said softly, tears forming in her eyes.
I was about to ask just what she was planning, when she yelled out, “Fall back. Now!”
Everyone in our party heard her—her voice echoed through the yard like she was using a megaphone. And then, she closed her eyes and I heard her whisper, “For Henry . . .” and a whirlwind of energy rose around her, a vortex of blue and white mist, and she pushed it forward with a terrible cry.
The wall of energy rolled over the demons and piercing shrieks echoed from their midst. I couldn’t see what was happening, and then, as the energy began to vanish, I could see. Iris had fainted and as I knelt by her side, I looked up at the yard.
“Oh, Iris . . .” I fell silent, staring at the chaos. The Tregarts had been turned inside out. They were so much muscle and bone and raw, pulsating flesh. Without a word, I turned to the side and vomited.
“Iris . . .” Delilah dropped her dagger to her side. She looked around. “Is anybody else hurt? Chase? Chase?” A frantic light came into her eyes and she whirled around. “Where’s Chase?”
“Smoky took him to see Sharah. He’s been wounded, Kitten. He’s still alive, but he needs medical care.” I didn’t dare tell her how badly he was hurt. We needed her in one piece—and not a kitten.
Her lower lip began to tremble, but she didn’t go any further because at that moment, Iris groggily came to. As we helped her to her feet, there was a shout from the door. There stood a man—or at least, at first glimpse it was a man.
Vanzir jumped up, striding forward. He looked furious. “Trytian, what the fuck are you doing here, you bastard?”
Trytian! We were right. It was the daemon’s son. I forced myself to march up beside Vanzir.
“Where is she? Where’s the Bonecrusher?” I knew I sounded slightly hysterical but couldn’t help myself. My emotions were riding high.
