Anya Bast - Witch Fury

Theo pulled her close. As his embrace tightened she closed her eyes, letting out a breath of tension. She was safe now, safe.

After a moment, he pulled her away from him so he could look into her eyes. “He’s playing with you. The Atrika like to stalk and they like their prey scared. It excites them. He entered your subconscious as you dreamed and he woke your sense of self. It was like a lucid dream, understand? He can’t hurt you physically there, he can only scare you. If you allow him to scare you, he wins.” “But I hit my shin!” She shuddered. “And I felt his hands on me. . his breath.” “He can make it seem real, as real as waking reality.” Theo let out a slow breath. “Making you afraid, it’s like foreplay to him.” Bitterness rose to sting the back of her throat at the thought. She swallowed it down. “Yes, I get it. I understand. Don’t let him see how terrified he makes me and I win. Otherwise it. . excites him.” “Exactly. Come here.” He pulled her still trembling body closer against his and stroked her hair.

“I’m okay. It was just thinking he was you and then. . having it not be.” She frowned at the daylight and pushed away from him. “How long have I been sleeping?” “Stefan’s awake and Thomas is back. They’re questioning him. No sign of any Atrika yet. I let you sleep as long as you wanted since you needed it.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you? You don’t need sleep?” “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Lie down and take a nap, big guy. It’s my turn to watch over you.” She pushed him backward onto the bed, but he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her down on top of him.

Sarafina gave a yelp of surprise and found herself rolled beneath his body in one second flat, his mouth on hers.

Just as Sarafina was starting to relax a little and shake off the horror of her most recent encounter with Bai, Theo’s cell phone rang. He fumbled for it, took one look at the interface, and said, “We have to get to Gribben.”

GRIBBEN LOOKED LIKE A WAR ZONE. NOT UNLIKE THE one they’d left behind in Kentucky. Theo was getting sick of the carnage.

Theo lost his breath and Sarafina her step as soon as they crossed the threshold of the prison, but it didn’t slow them down for more than a heartbeat. The guards were away from their posts and the series of gates leading into the heart of the prison were flung open to allow Coven reinforcements to enter. All the prisoners were in lockdown and as they passed, they could see faces peeking from behind the small square windows in their heavy metal doors.

The prisoners were all smiling, laughing, pounding on their walls. They knew exactly what was happening — their Coven captors were getting their asses handed to them by daaeman .

So what else was new?

They made their way down into the bowels of the prison, where they’d put Stefan. The Atrika had either finally deduced where the Coven witches had taken their fearless leader, or they’d performed some kind of locator spell to find him. Either way, they were here now and locked in a battle with Thomas and the others.

The problem was both simple and profound: the Coven witches had no power here and the Atrika did.

It made for bad odds, all in all.

The sounds of the battle grew louder the closer they got. An Atrika blocked the open steel door they needed to get past in order to get to where Thomas and the others were, filling the frame like a freight train jamming the mouth of a tunnel.

They came to a skidding halt. Theo reached back for his sword and held it between himself and the monster who stood snarling in front of them. Sarafina held her sword in hand, too. Without magick to wield, Theo felt vulnerable as a newborn babe and he was certain Sarafina felt the same. A copper blade just wasn’t the same as magick.

The Atrika raised power. It crackled through the air like a spark finding dry tinder. Just as the creature threw it, he and Sarafina parted, each leaping to the side. The bolt of magick went straight past them, exploding against one of the prisoner’s doors where it made a big black smoking crater. That was one warlock who probably wasn’t celebrating anymore.

Before the creature could raise more power or focus on Sarafina, Theo lunged forward and sliced deeply into the thigh of the daaeman . The creature roared and lunged toward Theo, who only narrowly dodged his grip and rolled away to avoid being hit with any blood. The blood splashed, smoking, on the wall, and the demon’s wound popped and snapped from the copper.

Sarafina came up from behind and hefted her sword, driving it into the side of the Atrika . More daaeman blood gushed and they both danced to avoid it.

The Atrika let out a battle cry that seemed more animal than anything resembling human and turned toward Sarafina, who had backed away, holding her sword up. The creature raised another bolt, making Theo’s ear pop from the pressure.

“Sarafina, watch out!” he yelled.

She barely had time to duck the flare of magick that probably would have taken her head clean off. She rolled on the floor, sword tight in her hand, just like he’d taught her.

Theo swung toward the daaeman and caught him in the shoulder. Again the creature roared and lashed out magickally. This time Theo took a sideswipe bolt to his sword arm. Pain flared vibrantly through his body, making him drop his blade. The flesh of his upper arm was open and glistening — badly burned.

The daaeman charged him, but Sarafina was on his back in a moment, slashing at him as hard as she could to draw him away. She cried out as droplets of blood from the Atrika spattered her and ate right through her clothes.

Theo picked up his sword and forced himself to grip it. The Atrika was staggering a little, listing to the side as he chased Sarafina around the corridor, trying to corner her. It might have been a reaction to the copper blades slashing deeply into him, or perhaps it was from simple blood loss. Whatever was causing it, it was good.

Sarafina darted to avoid a blast of power and the daaeman feinted, managing to grab her by the arm and throw her up against the wall so hard she dropped her sword. He gathered power in a hard rush, clearly intending to drive it straight in the center of her while he pinned her there.

Anger and fear bubbled out of Theo, hot and bitter. He swung his sword with all his might, ignoring the searing agony of the movement. He aimed for the neck of the Atrika and caught him dead-on. The demon’s head separated from his shoulders and the body fell lifeless against the wall. Sarafina dove to the floor, just narrowly avoiding the spray of blood.

Theo grabbed her arm and helped her past the toxic gore. The floor and walls still smoked from the splattering of blood. She’d gone from sheet white to nauseated green, and he didn’t blame her. It was a gruesome sight.

Once they were far enough away, Theo went down on one knee, his wounded arm in shock at all the movement he’d made. It felt like someone had taken a blowtorch to his injured limb.

“Let me see.” Sarafina’s fingers were gentle as she angled his arm to take a look and whistled low. “It’s bad.” “I figured that,” he gritted out. “Better my arm than the center of my chest, though.” The crash and a bellow of Atrikan ire echoed through the open door. Theo lurched to his feet, gripped his sword, and charged through it with Sarafina right behind him.

Two more Atrika lay headless on the floor of the corridor where they’d stashed Stefan. A couple of witches lay on the floor, too, dead for sure. Another few lay wounded, their backs against the wall, breathing shallowly.