Page 242 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

With theatrical flair, Moros rolled back his sleeves, stepped in front of the women, and bent at the waist, gray hands outstretched.

The crowd shifted uneasily as the woman whimpered at his touch, murmurs breaking out when he pointed toward the right side of the stage.

Because that’s what this was—a goddamn performance. It was always about the show.

Marlana bent, hauled the woman upright, and dragged her across the platform, her feet stumbling to keep up with the witch’s long stride. She passed her off to a Renown guard, who licked his lips.

I edged forward, eyes up, scanning for our souls as they did the same. Tieran gave me an incremental shake of his head across the space. I held his gaze.

Was he kidding? I hadn’t gotten this close to the fucker since Santa Bloom. If I had a shot, I was taking it.

The next women Moros evaluated went the same direction. The crowd murmured when the seventh was sent left.

Breeding. The mortal women with even a glimmer of magic in their veins would be collected for breeding. Hence Tieran calling for aid.

My pulse hammered with every step. Mortals began to part for me as my energy swelled, power drawing tight in my chest.

Moros straightened as thunder rumbled above us, the sky darkening at an unnatural speed. He flicked his face upward, a crooked smile lifting one side of his mouth.

Now.

Lightning flashed across the purple horizon, and I snapped the neck of the guard between me and the stage.

Shots fired. Blood sprayed from the witch’s shoulder, my pulse sprinting as she went down.

Screams ignited. Bodies jostled, rushing for the alleys and roads to either side.

Unlike the executioner’s square in the Carolinas, these humans swung fist-first at their oppressors. Fruitless. But enough to buy others time to escape.

I rushed forward, calling on my power as I drew a bow and arrow from the lightning around me. Moros deflected the first shot with a whip of dark power, his eyes turning wholly black as he whirled.

“Mr. Porter!” he boomed, his voice amplified through the street. I knew where Agamemnon got it—that voice of death and sorrow. “Come out and play.”

I released my second arrow—this one hitting him square in the chest.

Then I was sprinting. I tore through the crowd and hurdled onto the raised platform as the mob began to fight. Gunfire filled the air, screams and bellows with it.

Five paces, and I’d have my hands on the son of a bitch.

Power flared, curses flying past me as I beelined for him.

Two paces—and I was hit by a goddamn wall.

One breath, there was ground beneath my feet.

The next breath, I was airborne. I shoved against the attack with my magic, landed on my feet, and whirled to find a bleeding Marlana—black eyes locked on me as shadows dissolved between us.

Thunder rolled as I prowled forward. She stumbled upright, blood seeping down her arm.

It had been a fucking graze.

Somebody get to Moros! I bellowed down the line as lightning arced off my arms. I’ll keep the serpent occupied. The bitch smiled, and I mirrored it. Darkness swirled around her as I drew my power up, the sky breaking open while the human screams faded around us.

Tension coiled in my chest, power bellowing for release as she lunged—shifting midair. Lightning crashed to earth in rapid succession, each column cracking through the stage and sending it toppling. An enormous serpent landed in the wreckage where she’d been.

She didn’t turn for Moros, which meant he wasn’t dying from that arrow. No. She was ready to fight. With every vicious strike, she shifted through shadow, darting in a serpentine pattern straight for me, ash rising in her wake. I held steady, even as that scaled body grew.

“Humans are clear,” Kade said through the earpiece.