joined up with some of the others to rush towards Isla and the vampires as they closed the distance between them and the mage, coming at him from the other side to Hartt.
The black-haired male lunged for the final mage as his clones dragged him towards him, seized hold of him but struggled to keep his grip on the mage as fire burst from the brunet’s hands and engulfed his arms. The clones howled in pain as the flames licked at them, as they caught on their black robes and spread, and the mage bellowed with them, releasing the brunet.
That male made a run for it just as Hartt teleported, aiming for the other side of the ring of clones. Hartt landed beyond them, skidded on the icy ground and twisted as he barrelled towards the wall of milky-eyed copies who turned as one to glare at him. He called his katana to him and slammed the tip of it into the ground as it appeared in his hand, stopping himself from hitting them. They launched at him on a vicious collective hiss.
That hiss ended in a wave of cries as something cut through the air behind him, and the scent of blood grew heavy in the air. Hartt flinched and grimaced as it rained down on him, splattering the white ground, making it even slicker.
“That counts as my kill,” Syn hollered. “I totally stabbed him first.”
Frey’s only response was a grunt as he tossed a dead clone at the wall surrounding Hartt. It disappeared before it could hit the copies who moved as one to keep the wall around their master strong, closing the gap Syn and Frey had created.
The demon king swept downwards, aiming for the mage.
Hit something around thirty feet above Hartt and bounced off it. A wave of blue symbols swept around the air, forming the shape of a dome before they disappeared. He looked at the mage.
The male closed his hand around the brunet witch’s throat and stabbed him straight in the chest, his eyes never leaving Hartt’s. The power that emanated from him grew stronger still.
Hartt looked around him as the mage tossed the dead male aside, deeply aware that he was now inside a barrier, alone with a hell of a lot of clones and a very powerful witch. That wasn’t good. He had two options—find a way out or fight.
The wall of clones stared at him, strange blue eyes watching him closely, tracking his every move. If he tried to go through them, he might be able to take a few down, but there was a high chance they would capture him.
When the mage began to close in on him and no easy exit presented itself, Hartt focused to teleport.
Nothing happened.
He cursed magic, starting to hate it with a passion as he braced his feet shoulder-width apart and stared the mage down. He flung his hand out to his left, testing a theory. The clone he sent flying hit the barrier and ricocheted off it, landing with a grunt on the ground within the sphere of the spell.
No escape.
Hartt flexed his fingers around the grip of his katana.
No surrender either.
He sent a mental command to his clothing, shirking his protective gear, leaving him in only his black armour. Cold instantly invaded his tired muscles, but it was better than limiting his range of movement with the heavy clothing. He had the feeling he was going to need every ounce of his speed to survive this.
The black-haired male straightened, lifting his chin as he stared Hartt down. Blue light glowed from his palm, illuminating the harsh planes of his face and darkening his crimson eyes.
Hartt kept his focus on the male, ignoring the shouts coming from the outside of the dome as Isla, the vampires and the demons worked to take down the clones and reach him. They wouldn’t be able to breach the barrier if they made it past the clones. Rosalind was the only one who could possibly dispel it. He wanted to look at his allies to silently tell them to go for the witch, but didn’t dare take his eyes off the mage.
Grave must have hollered something abusive in the mage’s direction because the male turned cold red eyes on something off to Hartt’s left.
The mage’s regal English accent was clipped as he growled, “I will kill you next. All in good time, vampire.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Hartt snarled and brought his katana