Page 241 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

The heat of summer was subtly fading, a bite creeping into the air as I ducked behind the parapet. Or maybe that was just being this far north in the dead of night, the town nestled against a winding river. Frigid wind kicked spray from the mammoth waterfall behind it, misting the main street. We’d answered Tieran’s call for aid, hauling Kade’s people north with me.

Merciful.

The witch was laughable. Black veins stretched from her wholly onyx eyes as Marlana Balaskas uttered those words seconds after sending a mortal man away in a cloud of ash. Her blight chewed a chasm between her and the gathered crowd, a moat of dark magic surrounding the raised platform they’d summoned at the center of what had been an intersection a few months ago.

The stifled moan of the woman she held by the hair on the makeshift dais reached me even from the roof across the street. Thunder rolled in the distance, and I grimaced. Clamping down on my power, I glanced sidelong at Kade, propped against the cinder blocks beside me with a reaper’s rifle clutched in his hands.

“Take it easy,” he signed, wrists pinning the weapon to his chest. I nodded curtly. I had it under control. Or I was trying to. Keeping the well at a manageable level without Ally pulling from it was proving fucking exhausting.

Team one, move, I sent down the line, sensing the shift in energy as they responded. The seventh coven had joined our missions, taking point on each team so at least one soul was connected mind-to-mind. I was sure Ally knew them—Aren certainly did—but I tried not to dwell on that while we fought to free mortals and get our hands on the right people, the right information, to find her.

This bitch? If we could hit her with reaper’s venom—if it could subdue the demon beneath her skin—she was my best goddamn bet.

Kade and I steadied our breathing in sync, and then we moved. He rolled onto his stomach, propping the gun over the old-west-style façade to take aim. I jumped to the narrow street beside the building, doing my best to blend into the mortal crowd when I emerged.

“It’s simple, really,” the witch purred. “A quick, painless procedure in exchange for our protection.”

The crowd shifted uneasily.

Head down, hood up, I wove slowly between them, eyes locked on the women chained to the dais. We couldn’t always answer calls from territories this small, but Tieran was desperate, and as I scanned their shaking hands—the glowing shackles around their wrists—I understood why he’d finally thrown up the flag for aid.

“Your homes will be warded—no Soul may get in or out without your invitation. No celestial intrusions. Your cellars stocked with rations provided by the king himself,” she said with saccharine sweetness. “Scout’s honor,” she added when no one stepped forward.

Is Tieran ready?

Let’s roll, Bronwyn sent back. She’d been acting spokesperson for the seventh, every action decisive, Aren and Ansel’s influence clear.

The guards stepped forward, shields forcing the crowd tighter. Cries and whimpers cut through the air, and still I blended in, edging toward the stage. I didn’t need to reach it. Just get close enough to bolt when Kade took her down. Tieran, Bronwyn, and Kingsley would come from the other open angles.

“Volunteering buys your guarantee of protection, my darlings. I fear the undesirable lines will be weeded out one way or another. Trust me when I tell you, the king does not offer his generosity twice.” She blinked, her eyes returning to normal when they opened again, and gingerly stroked a finger down the first woman’s cheek. The girl cowered, trembling where she knelt at the witch’s feet.

“Undesirable lines?” one of the men next to me muttered.

“Non-celestial bloodlines,” another responded. “They’re weeding out the mortals. They’re all the same, these celestials—they choose who lives and dies.”

“Jesus Christ,” the first responded, looking around as he tucked the woman next to him behind his back.

Unease stirred through the onlookers as Marlana smiled—a serpentine thing dripping malice and power.

“What happens if they have magic in their blood?” the first asked.

“You don’t wanna know,” I growled, sliding past him. But the poor fuck was about to find out. A portal opened behind Marlana, and Moros stepped from the swirling darkness, smiling as his sister turned to greet him. Sparks danced along my knuckles when I flexed my hands.

Dozens. Dozens of strikes a month. Dozens of attempts to get my hands on this son of a bitch. Countless raids without a sign of him.

And there he stood. Somebody get a line to Freya. We’re gonna need some shadows.

Stick to the plan, Bronwyn warned.

But I wouldn’t. Why the fuck would I go after the bitch when the man behind Ally’s torment stood feet away from her?

Sensing it, Bronwyn snarled, God fucking dammit, this cocksucking piece of shit. Fuckfuckfuck.

I smirked. Lana and this female probably got along splendidly. Leave the witch for Kade and Freya. Her death—her pain—belonged to Lana. I’d take it in her stead if needed. But the sadistic motherfucker? Moros is mine.

This isn’t the plan, Commander.

Freya, Bronwyn. She’ll be pissed if she misses this.