My hoarse shout made Ereshki smile. I didn’t care. If Ian managed to survive the Anzus, he had enough magic in him to free himself from the circle. Then all he had to do was stay alive until the first rays of dawn shone through the blue diamond, and he could teleport out of the lodge. Dagon couldn’t attack Ian directly because the spell my father cast on him meant he couldn’t get close enough, and I didn’t think Ereshki had the energy. Not from the way she looked. Setting the groundwork for Dagon’s trap appeared to have taken everything she had left.
“No,” Ian snapped, getting a bloody swipe to his side from one of the Anzus for his reply. That’s how fast they were. One moment’s distraction was all they needed.
Dagon smirked. “See how long his loyalty lasts when the Anzus are feasting on his flesh.”
Ereshki’s smile widened. Despair and rage shook me.
She laughed at what she did to you, Ian had said earlier. Every second she lives after that is too long.
My jaw tightened until cartilage snapped. Ereshki had lived too long. So had Dagon. I should have killed her the moment I recognized her at Yonah’s, and I should have killed Dagon as soon as I saw him at that theme park in Paris. I hadn’t. Now, Dagon would continue his murdering, soul-damning ways, and Ereshki would continue helping him. Countless more people would suffer and die, starting with me. But Ian didn’t have to be next.
“If I die, I’ll find a way to come back to you,” I swore in a desperate attempt to sway him. “My father said the power to resurrect resided in me. Use your magic and free yourself from that circle! If I die, I will return to you!”
A lie I wished with all my heart were true. Maybe, if I wished hard enough, it would be true. I had no way to know. There was no margin of error for whether or not I could self-resurrect. If it didn’t work, that was it.
“Yes, free yourself by killing her!” Dagon urged, grinning so widely, his lips should have split. “I want the last thing she sees to be you sacrificing her to save yourself.”
Blood painted Ian’s face red, making the flash of white from his teeth a sharp contrast as he smiled. “No weapon forged can harm these creatures? Thanks for the tip.”
Then he tore off his outer tactical gear as he flew out of the Anzus’ reach. A thick belt filled with weapons bounced off one of the Anzus before it hit the floor, then the two automatic rifles strapped to Ian’s back, then the extra silver knives he’d strapped to his forearms. Dagon watched, cocking his head in curiosity.
“Giving up so soon? How boring.”
Ian tore his shirt off in response. The gleaming expanse of pale, muscled flesh actually made Dagon stare for a moment before he caught sight of the dark bands encircling Ian’s upper arm. Then the demon’s gaze narrowed.
“What is that?”
Ian gave him a brief, savage grin. “You’ll soon find out.”
Hope flared, bright yet fragile. Caught in the grip of every horrible way Dagon had thwarted us, I’d forgotten about the horn, which had been created by the gods. Not forged by man. Could the ancient relic be enough to take down the Anzus?
I sucked in a breath as Ian flew at the Anzu that was flapping its great wings to reach him at the top of the circle. Right before Ian slammed into it, his arm shot out. The horn did, too, stabbing the creature through its open, fanged mouth. The impact rocketed them both to the ground, Ian’s entire arm disappearing down the creature’s throat. They hit the ground hard enough to make it shudder. My heart seized. Nothing was happening. Just like before, the Anzu wasn’t hurt—
Ian ripped his arm forward. The dark tip of the horn sliced through the Anzu’s back like a butcher cleaving off a tender piece of meat. It didn’t stop even when it reached the Anzu’s head. Another brutal rip, and two bony halves fell to the side, while an eruption of a thick blue fluid burst from the center. The Anzu shuddered once and then it lay completely still.
Dagon turned paler than his normal ivory visage. Then he screamed and flung himself at Ian’s circle, beating on it. But the same spell