unison, under the control of one mind. No wonder Shimon hadn’t felt Evan’s and Molly’s magic. He was fully engaged, using his own.
His vamps each pulled handguns. Fast. Aimed them at our tight group.
We were outnumbered, outgunned.
We were screwed.
Unless I could pull off a bluff.
I managed not to throw up and in my best Dark Queen royal hauteur, I said, “Let Edmund go or we will kill all of your people and go on with our business. And Brute”—I placed a hand on his furry head—“will eat the evidence. Are you hungry, Brute?” The werewolf chuffed, tongue dangling, white fangs showing in a doggy smile. The weapons instantly re-aimed. All of them at Brute and me. Oh goody. Yeah, that helped.
Time slid sideways, that battlefield slowdown where I saw, felt, heard, knew, everything, in layers of tactics and potential outcomes. Everything happened in slow motion.
In a flash of sapphire light, Gee appeared in front of me.
“Hold!” Gee shouted, throwing his blue-on-blue magics into the air. Shimon’s head rocked back against the gold-plated skull of an enemy with a thonk, like the sound of a war drum struck by an enemy’s skeletal fingers. In a single instant, he bounded to his feet. His jaw ratcheting wide. Six-inch fangs snapped down. The elongated teeth were black as night, the color of obsidian. The tips of his fangs touched his carapace.
The vamps around him readied their weapons for firing, multiple schnicks, bright and dangerous. Eli murmured, “Aim high, vamps only, upper chest. No collateral damage. The humans may not be acting of their own volition.”
Evan whistled a single note. A hedge of thorns snapped up around us, the magical shield glittering and visible, but not strong. It might slow the rounds as they fired. But . . . Shimon didn’t know how weak the hedge was.
“Hold!” Gee shouted again. He looked healed, whole, but Gee DiMercy was magic wrapped in spells and tied up with glamour. He could be missing limbs and I wasn’t sure we’d see that. His magic swirled into the room, a vibrant blue.
Time still in battle phase, two more vamps fell, their weapons clattering to the floor. Molly was laughing softly, whispering, “Yes, yes, yes.”
On Gee’s shoulder stood a lizard, striped and swirled in shades of red and blue and vibrant green. I knew that lizard. Gee had taken him from a vamp I killed. Now it had scarlet wings, had morphed into a miniature lizard-dragon. It leaped. The lizard dove at the woman in purple and took a bite from her ear lobe. Monique jerked, pulled from the fight for a microsecond. Bruiser managed a shaky breath and firmed his stance, but the woman snarled at him and leaned into the battle as blood trickled down her neck.
The lizard whipped around the room and flew back to Gee. It hovered over Gee’s head, scarlet wings moving so fast they were a red smudge in the air. The SOD Two leaned forward. Silent. Watching the lizard and the Onorio battle. He coveted everything he saw. Until another vamp fell. This one landed across Shimon’s arm and slid to the floor.
Shimon said, “Why should I listen to you, Misericord? You and your kind killed my young and stole my Mercy Blade from me.”
“Your long-chained were never coming back. They had raved for a thousand years and it was long past their time.” Gee leaned in, looking taller and more muscular than normal. His skin darker, hair in dozens of braids. “You caged your Mercy Blade and stabbed at her mind.” His voice dropped down into a lower register. “Misericords do not sing for your pleasure.” He pointed at Edmund. “Give him to my queen or suffer another attack by my kind.”
The Flayer snarled, fingers tapping on a femur.
Edmund rolled over and stood. He lifted one foot and took a step toward us. Another. Another.
“Moll, stop,” I said softly. “Please.”
“Yes. Okay. Stopping,” she said, staccato. But I could hear her need, her craving for death’s power in her voice.
Ed stumbled and Gee raced forward. Caught him, the small man leaning into the bloody muscle of Edmund’s abdomen and picking him up. Speaking fast, Gee said, “We are grateful for the act of bounty bestowed upon us by the Flayer of Mithrans.”
A woman dressed in white, standing near Shimon, turned to him and slid her weapon into her clothes. “We are magnanimous. This once,” she said, in the strange intonation Ed had used. I figured she was now interpreting.