Page 388 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

TAPPED OUT

AREN

Fires bloomed in the streets below, the world a cacophony of explosions and the screams of humans who hadn’t evacuated in time. I didn’t have space to pity them. Every ounce of focus was reserved for ticking off the steps. Magnolia watched in mute horror, her eyes glassy, as I moved between the truck Ally had parked for us and our rooftop vantage point.

Perk: full three-sixty view of the siege of Santa Bloom.

Downside: we were sitting ducks if Reyna and Cyrus’s people stayed pinned in the south.

I hefted the last duffle out of the silver pickup, dropped it at the roof’s edge, and began assembling a sniper rifle with mechanical precision, clearing my head. No reaper bullets—so this setup was either meant for human targets, or to take advantage of the Reaper’s null field while it was active.

Past Mags, where she’d lowered into a crouch, the city burned. Demons clawed through already-leveled buildings.

Phase One had worked. The moment Freya lit up the city with that blast of power, every Renown and crawler within radius had veered toward the center. Our coven was in position. From what I could see, Moros’s army had taken the bait.

Nine out of ten prophecy pieces had been placed within ten city blocks—only Mags and I shared a quadrant. The others had been intentionally scattered to make capture harder. Effective. But it also meant we couldn’t fight like the unit we were.

Fae was long gone. Thank God she was the best tracker I’d ever met—she’d find a place to vanish where they wouldn’t even smell her shadow.

Nat’s once-beautiful Santa Bloom had become an ocean of destruction. The air was thick with sulfur and burning asphalt. Crawlers and Second Hierarchy assholes moved in formations too clean for demons—which meant there was a Commander nearby.

Vulnerable or not, Ally had been right—this rooftop gave us everything. Every skirmish, every perimeter team. Every bloody death.

I blew out a slow breath and turned, fishing out the stashed armor. I held it up for Mags, who nodded numbly. As I helped her into it, I dropped to one knee to fasten the garter holsters.

“Remember what you’ve been taught.” She barely nodded. I tightened the strap until her eyes met mine. “Focus. Fight only if you have to. Stay where we placed you. We’ll bring the wounded to you.”

Another small nod.

“And remember—it’s okay to fight like a healer. Shut down their organs. I’d fucking prefer it.”

“Heart and lungs,” she recited softly. Her voice wavered, but her hands stilled.

“Good girl.” I slid the last blade into its sheath. Some for fighting. Some for the delicate work. I had a feeling she’d be digging bullets out of more than one of us before the night was over.

Movement caught my eye. Down on the street, Cyrus and Freya misted into place. The chittering rose instantly—blood-hungry demons swarming toward them. I gritted my teeth. I hated using Freya as bait, but she hadn’t even blinked when Ally pitched the idea. Judging by her smirk, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

And Cyrus?

Jesus. I thought my love life was complicated. Didn’t seem to be slowing him down, though—he stayed tight to her flank, cutting through ichor-soaked bodies like he was born to it.

“What are they doing?” Mags whispered, narrowing her eyes on the perimeter teams.

“Driving the demons inward.”

“Like a corral?”

“Exactly.”

“Why?”

“For Ally.” Two words. All I needed to say.

Guilt pierced my concentration. I’d been so twisted up in my own head, I’d questioned Ally. My little shadow. The soul who always came home. I’d never unraveled like that. Never lost control like I did.

Stop moping—it’s not your color, Ally snapped down the bond. We’re fine.

Snorting, I thought back, I owe you.