city, who she knew were now used as DU fodder, ran in panic to be attacked by both sides. Taibhse swooped, tore strips from a panther shifter as Faol Ban joined to fight off a pack of wolf shifters. Through the scream of crows ripped the screams of men, so the melting snow ran red.
She took Laoch into a steep climb, rising into wind that whirled with those clashing magicks. She sliced through the wings of a dark faerie, sent her spiraling to the ground. Below she saw the ground shake under a platoon of her men, and hurled fireballs at the clutch of Dark Uncanny who worked to open the earth beneath them.
She wheeled Laoch in midair, saw that Vivienne’s commander kept his word. His troops surged in from the north, trapping the enemy between walls of warriors.
Diving east she fought with her father, pumping power and flame against the hail of black lightning. It sizzled to the ground, scorched.
“Drive them in,” she shouted, ignoring the enemy who fled. They would meet yet another wall in Troy’s battalion.
“Keep the heat on,” Simon shouted back. “We’ve got this.”
Trusting he did, she galloped south.
She joined with Will, then Starr, pushed through to Poe in time to help fight off an attack led by the blur of rushing elves, a rain of arrows. She swept them back, sent them tumbling in a whirlwind.
“Fast fuckers.” Poe swiped at the mud on his face.
“You’re bleeding.”
His breath came fast, but he shook his head, flexed his impressive biceps. “Just the meat.”
In answer Fallon leaned over, pressed a hand to his arm to close the wound. “Drive them in.”
“You got it, boss.”
She raced toward Mick’s troops, and charged a Dark Uncanny as he flashed lightning from his hands. Laoch impaled him on his horn, shook him off.
“We’ve got some wounded,” he called to her.
“Medics and reinforcements are on the way.” She pivoted to strike out at the next attacker, then streaked to Tonia. “Mick needs some help.”
Gripping Fallon’s hand, Tonia swung up with her. “Let’s take a ride.”
They flew up, circled. Tonia’s arrows flashed down, finding mark after mark. “Like old times,” she said.
“There, Travis is moving in to back Mick up. Drive them in,” Fallon ordered. “Drive them in.”
“Meda and her horsemen—women—are sure as hell doing just that. Jesus, Mallick and Duncan have merged, and they’re kicking ass. Drop me off that way. I want in.”
Tonia leaped down onto an outcropping of rock, arrow already nocked, then flying into the belly of a tiger.
Through the mud and the blood, the scorching flames, the cutting wind, they fought, pushing, pushing the enemy inward, closing in around them like the walls of a well.
She saw the spread, the rise of black wings, felt the streak of power slap the air. For a stunned moment she thought: Eric. But she’d buried the ashes of her uncle herself, had salted the earth over them.
Still, she sent Laoch in pursuit.
Up, up, high above the city, beyond the crows that screamed, he turned.
No, not Eric, but every bit as twisted and dark.
He smiled, lips curving in a face as handsome and smooth as a carved angel’s. She realized almost too late he’d drawn her away, isolated her.
When he threw the first strike of lightning at her, she blocked it with her shield and pivoted to stream flame from her sword at the attacker who’d swooped in on her flank.
He swept away the fire as a third charged in.
She thought of Mallick’s ghosts, wondered why neither of them had thought to practice in midair.
They combined power, heaved it toward her. She dived, felt the heat of it blow past her—and felt Laoch’s quick start of pain. But he never faltered, streaking up, wheeling as she slashed out, caught a wing, followed through with a gale that tumbled the wounded one into the second.
As they flailed, she blocked a blow from the first, pushed back.
They regrouped, the handsome one, the wounded one, a female with dozens of flying black braids. She steadied Laoch for the next attack.
Duncan’s voice sounded in her head. Make room.
“No, don’t—”
But he flashed behind her, sliced his sword so the flame from it lashed out like a whip. It struck the one she’d wounded, seemed to curl around him as he shrieked. The fire simply enfolded him, left a trail of bitter smoke as he fell.
“Which one do you want?” Duncan asked her.
“The male. Son of a bitch.”
She lashed out, again and again. A strike, a block, a sweep