out, countermagic surged, its feel foreign and dark. The Empusae’s claws broke through my shields and she swiped at me, forcing me to jerk back to avoid my face being shredded. I swore and reached for my knife; she swiped again, this time more desperately. Her claws raked my arm, drawing blood as I grabbed the knife. I twisted it up, lashing at her, slicing two bloody talons even as she screamed and withdrew.
Power surged again, this time familiar. Eli, casting a counterspell to force her away from me even as he threw his demon snare. She jagged sharply sideways, somehow avoiding it. I grabbed my net spell with a bloody hand and threw it after her; again, she sensed it, but not quite soon enough. One wing caught and, for a second, I thought we had her. Then she twisted away, tearing free from the net before it had the chance to spread across the rest of her body.
She disappeared into the night, leaving behind a drifting cloud of bloody feathers that burned away long before they hit the ground. The elder had obviously learned from earlier mistakes.
But why was she retreating? It made no sense— The thought stalled as my gaze went to the tree cave.
Ashworth stood alone within the snare. The other Empusae was dead.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and then looked down at my arm. Three of her claws had raked me, and the wounds were deep and bloody. I reached into my pack, grabbed a bottle of holy water, and poured it over the wounds. It immediately began to bubble, suggesting it was fighting either magic or infection, and it hurt like blazes. My breath hissed through clenched teeth, and tears stung my eyes.
Eli appeared in front of me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and carefully dismantled my protection circle. He immediately took my hand and inspected the wound.
“Looks like the holy water is basically sterilizing the wound. Infection won’t be a problem, but the wounds are deep enough that you might need—”
“I’m not going to the hospital for stitches. Butterfly bandages will hold it together just fine.”
He sniffed. It was not a happy sound. “Can you wiggle all your fingers okay?”
I did so, and he nodded, his relief evident. “You, my girl, are damn lucky. Wait here while I go get my first aid kit.”
As he rose and moved away, I picked up my spell stones and placed them back into their bag. Then I used another bottle of holy water to rinse the blood from my knife. I had no intention of letting it stay on the blade—I had no idea if a demon’s blood was capable of either permanently staining the blade or maybe even rendering it unusable. Better to be safe than sorry, especially when I simply didn’t know enough about demons.
My gaze went to the trees. Vita was still there, but her presence was muted. Obviously, creating those energy balls drained her to the point of exhaustion.
Which is obviously why she wants our help, Belle commented. She might be able to interact with this world, but it’s an ability that is somewhat limited.
Limited isn’t a word I’d use to describe those energy balls.
And yet it was incapable of adapting to the Empusae’s movements.
True. I took a deep breath and blew it out. Let’s just hope the trap Ashworth set around that cave produces results, because I have no idea how we’re going to capture the remaining bitch otherwise.
If she’s in any way sensible, she’d get the hell out of here while she still can.
Except that we’ve now killed two of her offspring. Would you?
She sighed. No. I’ll head into storage and collect more of Gran’s books. She’s got one on tracer spells, so we might be able to jury-rig something.
Worth a shot.
I glanced up as Eli returned. Behind him, Ashworth and Monty had dismantled their magic and were walking around collecting their spell stones. Both looked gray—containing and killing the Empusae had taken a lot out of them, and it made me wonder how in the hell we were ever going to cope with the remaining one, who was not only stronger but far older and cannier.
Eli insisted on spraying antiseptic over my arm, even though the holy water had erased any chance of infection, then placed a number of butterfly plasters over the wounds to draw the skin together. Once he’d bandaged my arm from elbow to wrist, he packed up, then rose and offered me a hand up.