eyes hard, standing his ground. Devon’s pack waited behind him, their faces grim and their hands flexed. They thought they were about to fight. Barbara stood off to the side with Steve, withdrawn from the scuffle.
Beyond their group, a horned creature ambled toward them from down the street, as though just learning to use its legs. Its misshapen limbs looked like they were covered in dried black tar, with claws instead of hands and hooves instead of feet. Stringy clumps of flesh fell from one thigh, and one huge tooth gaped from its swollen, red, pus-coated lips. Its eyes glowed red.
“That is the ugliest demon I have ever seen,” Charity said, her stomach turning.
“It’s barely a level-one demon,” Barbara said. “A group of uninformed witches can conjure one of those. It can barely function up here.”
“Can it speak?” Charity asked.
“No. It probably doesn’t even have a tongue. It’s in bad shape.”
Charity gestured at it in annoyance, noticing a small cluster of men on the other side of the street watching it with wide eyes and slack jaws. “Why the hell haven’t you taken it down? Isn’t our job to hide magic from non-magical humans?”
“Shifters need one true leader,” Dillon murmured close to her ear. “And right now, there are two. They need to sort it out so we can get moving.”
Charity stared at Dillon for a beat, her heart in pieces, her nerves shot, her life in upheaval.
I know where your mother is.
Was that how Vlad knew Charity’s real father wasn’t Walt? And if so, did he have proof of her paternity? He was sure smug as hell—that had come through loud and clear…
Warmth trickled through her middle, then turned into a gush of liquid heat to her limbs. Lava bubbled up from that place deep inside her, followed by a surge of heat so great that she momentarily lost her sight. The day returned, blotchy and overexposed. Her head felt light and electricity sizzled every inch of her flesh.
Devon’s face snapped toward her.
“Not this time,” Dale growled, springing toward Devon, following through on what must’ve been a challenge.
The movement seemed so slow.
“Where is my sword?” Charity asked distractedly. Dillon jogged backward.
I don’t need a sword.
She shoved a hand through the air. Electricity popped and crackled around her. Green surrounded Dale as he prepared to change, but a spark flared to life next to him and exploded in a silent shock wave of power.
Electric fire scored his skin. His body flew to the side, his limbs windmilling, his eyes as big as the world. He smacked into a tree and fell to the ground in a heap.
Cole had barely turned toward her, violence in his eyes, before she whipped her hand his way.
Magic followed the path set by her hand—a small spark appeared next to the were-yeti’s mighty frame, then exploded in a concussion of air so strong it knocked his feet off the ground. Unlike Dale, he didn’t move as he soared through the air. He hit one of the vans, dented it, grunted, and landed on his feet. Only his feet weren’t prepared to hold him.
His hands slapped the ground, followed by his face and then his body. He groaned loudly.
Charity was already moving.
Fire ate her alive. It scratched across her spine and punched her vital organs. She jogged out to the middle of the street, thrumming with the need for violence. Wanting to blow this whole neighborhood sky-high. A song drifted on the breeze, but it was off-key. Wrong, somehow. Intense agony screamed through her body, making her vision waver again, making her knees weak.
She ignored it.
The demon changed course, ambling toward her.
It had been sent for her. One day, she would find its maker and enact her revenge. For now, she’d take out the messenger.
She turned to face the creature then bent, falling into the depths of her magic. Floating on top of it. Sinking below the surface.
The sky sparkled brighter, and the air filled with a noise like a bug zapper. The power was pounding at her, thrashing her from the inside out, and she’d accidentally called on the wrong magic. Her sun flares only worked on vampires.
She pushed her hands forward. Balls of light condensed in her palms, spitting electricity and fire, and shot toward the demon. They hit it center mass, soaking into its middle before exploding. Body parts flew up and out, arcing through the sky before splatting against the cracked and pockmarked road.
Still her power climbed, an internal explosion blazing across