Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,95

could they run. The demons would easily catch them.

Two creatures dived for them. James hurled his last blade, dispatching one Cerberus demon in a rain of ichor. The other fell beside it, cloven in two by a dainty throwing axe.

James froze. He knew that axe.

Whirling, he saw Lucie running full tilt toward him from the road. And she was not alone.

Cordelia was there, Cortana gleaming in her hand. Matthew was beside her, armed with Indian chalikars: circular throwing knives edged with razor-sharp steel. Then came Christopher with two crackling seraph blades and Thomas, wielding his bolas. One flick of the ropes, and one twist of Thomas’s powerful arm, and a demon sailed clear off the bridge and into the river.

Alastair Carstairs was also with them. As James stared, he leaped onto the iron railing of the bridge, balancing just as James and Matthew had once done in practice. A long-bladed spear was in his hand. Two sweeps sliced one of the creatures in half. It exploded into nothingness, splattering Alastair with ichor, which struck James as a positive development on two fronts. Alastair leaped down from the railing with a disgusted noise, and charged into the fray.

As the Shadowhunters spread out around them, a cry rose from the demons—a thick, clogged sound. If a corpse rotting in the dirt had a sound, James thought, that was what it would have been. He sprang backward, swung around, and delivered a spinning kick to an oncoming demon. There was a blur of gold, and the demon vanished; James looked up to see Cordelia standing over him, Cortana in her hand. Its blade was smeared with demon blood.

There was no time to thank her. Another demon lunged; James seized his seraph blade. “Zerachiel!” he cried, and the blade became a wand of fire.

His friends were in the thick of battle—save Grace, who had backed away, clutching the dagger. James spared a bitter thought for Tatiana, who had never been willing to let Grace train to fight, before spinning to fend off a reaching demon. Before he could, a crackling seraph blade sliced sideways into the creature’s flesh. It hopped back, hissing like a pot on the boil, leaving James with a clear line of sight to Christopher. He stood holding the seraph blade, which sputtered like a frying potato.

“Christopher,” said James, “what is that thing?”

“A seraph blade! I have tried to enhance it with electricity!”

“Does that work?”

“Not at all,” confessed Christopher, just as a demon flew shrieking at his face. He stabbed it, but his seraph blade leaped with an erratic line of fire. Lucie and Thomas were both there before the demon could touch Christopher, Lucie’s axe and Thomas’s bolas almost meeting in the creature’s flesh. It winked out of existence, but another took its place immediately, rising above them like a menacing cloud.

Abandoning the seraph blade, Christopher seized a dagger from the inside of his waistcoat and stabbed it into the creature. It staggered back, just at the moment that a long spear soared through the fog and slammed into it. It folded like a letter and vanished, leaving a smear of ichor behind.

James looked over wildly and saw Alastair Carstairs, holding a matching spear in his left hand and looking thoughtfully at the spot from which the demon had just vanished.

“You’re carrying spears?” James demanded.

“I never leave the house without my spears!” cried Alastair, causing them all to stare, even Grace.

James had questions, but no chance to ask them. He heard his sister shout, and he dashed forward only to find Lucie and Cordelia fighting back-to-back, a dagger in Lucie’s hand and Cortana in Cordelia’s. Cortana formed a wide golden sweep, and every creature who managed to sneak past Cordelia’s guard, Lucie stabbed. Matthew stood atop the railing, hurling one chalikar after another to provide cover for the girls.

A demon loomed suddenly behind Thomas, whose bolas was wrapped around another demon: possibly around its throat, though with these creatures it was hard to tell.

“Lightwood!” shouted Alastair. “Behind you!”

James knew it was Alastair, because nobody else would be such a fool as to shout that in the middle of a fight. Of course Christopher turned, and of course Thomas, who the shout was aimed at, did not. James dived for Thomas, rolling on the ground to reach him faster, just as the demon lunged. Its teeth and claws raked Thomas’s arm, drawing blood. There was no room for Thomas to use his bolas. He yelled and punched the demon: it staggered