Page 4 of Rogue Witch

I start forward and they fall in behind me. Juan remains in his gargoyle form. The kid will make a fine warrior.

“What about humans in need?” Kiersten asks.

“The games are over.” I scan our surroundings and pick up the pace. “The humans here aren’t real. What matters is us getting back to The Academy.”

“Are we in real danger?” Kiersten asks.

Truth is, I don’t know. A Reaping taking place in a virtual magical world? To my knowledge, that’s never happened. Chelsea was able to harm Leilah. Who knows what else can happen?

“No,” I reply. “But we can’t complete our mission with most teammates gone.”

“You mean we’re not experienced enough to take on Shadows and criminals,” Juan says. In gargoyle form, Juan is as strong as I am, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to meet demons.

“I wouldn’t want these odds,” I say. I don’t say that I have faced these odds.

We get four blocks when two men and a woman—two mortals and a witch dressed in long leather coats—emerge from a side street and step into our path.

“Well, well,” the man in the middle says. “Strangers passing through our territory without permission. A gargoyle—and a witch with spirit bottles.” His eyes fix on Kiersten’s belt. “Just how many demons have you do-gooders imprisoned?”

“That’s none of your business,” Kiersten shoots back.

I glimpse the man’s slight smile and a glint of streetlight off metal inside his coat in the instant before he yanks out a sword. How had I missed that? Because I’m not taking this world seriously.

I lunge and call forth my fire.

“Lookout, Daniel,” the man to the left shouts.

I aim my fire at the sword.

The woman throws up both hands and shouts, “Deflecto.”

I throw another fire ball as the first shoots back toward us. Behind me, comes the loud flap of wings.

The second man circles to my right. “I hate fucking gargoyles,” he hisses as the first dives to the left.

My fireball grazes his arm. He rolls, then jumps to his feet and throws the sword javelin style. My answering stream of fire melts the metal, which hits the pavement with a loud splat.

The witch shouts, “Corvus.”

A massive crow appears. Juan screams the chilling scream unique to gargoyles. I shoot a blast of dragon heat at the second man. He blows backwards into the street. The leader yanks a .45 Winchester Magnum from his waistband. I draw a sharp breath. The crow’s caw makes my ears ring. Juan’s wings are spread full length in readiness to attack.

“Attack!” the witch yells.

We don’t have time for these damn games. I throw my hands up, palms face out. Flames blast from my hands as the gun roars. The witch screams, the two men shout. My heat blasts across them and illuminates the silhouette of their bodies. Their skeletons are framed in ash before the bones blow away as dust.

“Ethan.”

I whirl at the stark fear in Juan’s voice. He catches Kiersten as I spot the blood that darkens the front of her shirt. The crow screams again. I incinerate the creature with a flash of fire. Then scoop up Kiersten, take three running steps and unfurl my wings as I take flight, Juan at my side.

Chapter Three

LEILAH

I swim upward through murk toward consciousness. Cold seeps through my bones. A throbbing in my head thrums in rhythm with the beat of my heart. Dim light filters into my brain and I blink my surroundings into focus. I’m lying, face up, on the forest floor. Light snow flutters down through the bare tree branches. My hands are tied behind my back. Grit scratches my eyes. I blink and try to brush my eyes against my shoulder but can’t reach with my hands tied behind my back.

I force my shoulders to relax and close my eyes to allow the scant snow to land on my face. After several heartbeats, the small flakes melt, and I blink repeatedly until the grit clears. I struggle upright and eventually manage a sitting position, then scan my surroundings. I’m alone and—my heart takes a dive—someone has taken my weapons and coat.

I turn my attention to my ankle bindings, which—well fuck a duck—are shoelaces. Oh, this piece of bullshit is going to cost whoever tied me up. Determination to find my attacker bolsters me. Everyone needs goals.