Don't Touch My Men - Helen Scott Page 0,77

tunnel that led to the doors of the auditorium. I had to fight two guards that were more of the zombie kind I’d seen before. They were unthinking and unfeeling, at least from outward appearances, and by the time they fell, the feeling of magic that had been crawling up my back was excruciating.

My skin felt like it was on fire. Hell, my nerves felt like someone had hooked me up to a battery or light socket. As I stepped through the doors, it was like being transported to another realm. The evil in the room was a presence, a physical entity that seemed to take up space and made it hard to breathe. My gaze tracked over the bodies strewn all over the floor as the stench of death coated the inside of my nostrils, and somehow, my mouth as well. It made me want to spit, just to try and get the taste out. When I saw the Horseman though, I lost all thought of anything else.

The skull was formed, black, glowing lines connecting the pieces as he raised it and sat it on his shoulders. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. Muscles and tendons seemed to spring forth from the crusted neck he’d always had and started to wrap around the head itself, anchoring it in place.

It was that thought that had my feet moving as I sprinted the length of the auditorium to get to him. Fire flew from my hands, scorching the new muscle, veins, and arteries that were appearing, burning all the progress away.

He roared in such a way that it had a primal part of me wanting to run and hide. I held my ground though, fighting against every instinct I had, just so I could keep the fire burning from my hands. Fire wasn’t enough though, at least that was what Harker had said. I left one hand burning with the fire I’d conjured while the other summoned wind, like I had when I destroyed the Wardwell’s mansion.

It was a struggle, but eventually, I felt the gust of the tornado-like winds leave my hand. I was already breathing heavily from the effort, and I still had two elements to conjure before he’d go down. Two elements that I’d never even summoned before.

When the wind struck the Horseman, he finally spun to face me. The eyeballs that were struggling to form and the jaw that seemed to be a little out of place—due to the tendons forming strangely, probably thanks to my fire—were horrifying. Seeing a face being constructed was not something I’d ever expected to encounter, but then neither was the mirror realm, or a two-faced demon head that tried to psychologically tear me down. I faced things, it was what I did, and I wasn’t about to start running now. Not when this was the most important battle of all.

The Horseman stepped toward me and jumped down off the stage, his impact making the whole floor shake. With a roar, he charged at me. I stepped out of the way at the last second and tried to conjure water. I channeled all my anger and frustration and managed a few droplets in the center of my palm, but that was it. Before I could try again, the Horseman was there, running at me like he was a bull and I was the red flag.

I didn’t have many options for places to go, since the floor of the auditorium was littered with bodies, some of which were noticeably decaying. I knew if I tried to step over them, I’d probably trip and fall, which would have me at the mercy of the Horseman, so I made a break for the stage. With a running start, I was able to jump up onto it and only stumble slightly. When I turned to face the Horseman, I saw my guys coming in behind him. They all looked exhausted and were covered in blood. This fight had run them ragged, and my gut twisted with dread that they’d come in here and I couldn’t even summon the third element, never mind the fourth.

If the Horseman attacked them… I couldn’t watch them die. I just couldn’t. As I looked around at my men and saw the Horseman spin to look at them as well, I realized that maybe my grandfather was wrong. Maybe they were my four elements. Hunter was my fiery dark fae, explosive and passionate. Alastair was my earthy