Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Basil raised his hands into the air and began the same weave Art had just used.
Safia sent Art a half smile and shook her head at him as if chastising a small child. “A demon does not know how to cast spells properly.” Her voice was gentle. Sweet even. She spoke to all four demons as if they weren’t quite bright enough to understand.
Art sputtered, his carefully composed image fading for a moment to be replaced by the hardened shell of dark red-and-orange armor, much like a lizard’s scales. Just behind his ears, two small horns appeared, with dark hair tightly wrapped around the protrusions. The illusion was gone in the blink of an eye, almost before it registered.
“I am no demon. I am Art, and I trained with the best of masters.”
“Art, you’re very confused.” She lowered her voice another octave. The tone reverberated throughout Art’s mind. “You need Basil and your other friends to come stand beside you. You’re very worn. Your mistress hurts you with that continuous jabbing pain. You’ve tried your best to spare the others from her cruel ways, but nothing has helped.”
Petru saw the reason Safia had gained entrance to Art’s mind. She’d done so slowly and thoroughly, taking care to examine his memories. She knew him, knew his life. Lilith had him down in her torture chambers and her dungeons for hundreds of years, and she didn’t know—or care to know—one single thing about him. Lilith used threats, fear and agony to demand compliance.
Safia sounded gentle and nonthreatening. Caring even. Understanding. Inside Art’s mind, the brain waves were soothing. For the first time in years, the chaos had faded to the background, replaced by Safia’s serenity. The low tone of her voice forced the demon to lean toward her to hear her better.
The demon was saturated with her. She’d taken him over, wrested control from Lilith without the hapless creature or his mistress aware she’d done so. She’d been quiet and stealthy, a silent invader, and for now, she had the demon tentatively under her control. Petru waited to see what she would do next.
She appeared relaxed and totally at ease. The tip of the crystal sword was pointed toward the floor, but outward, more toward the feet of the demon, although Petru could see the stance appeared natural, nonthreatening.
“Basil, come here. Colin, Arsen, come here where we can talk to Safia. She has something to tell us,” Art commanded.
Petru didn’t take his gaze from the former mages as they approached his lifemate from the different directions. She appeared to keep her eyes on Art, but he knew she was acutely aware of the others getting closer to her.
Charif is safe, Aura assured her. The farm is once again safeguarded. Do you have need of us?
No, stay there. Petru made the decision for Safia. He was far more adept at speaking telepathically, and he didn’t want Safia’s attention to be divided. Right now, she had Art in the palm of her hand. One misstep and she could lose him. Guard our family. We’ve got this.
He could easily slay the four demons, but he couldn’t keep others like them from returning. That was Safia’s gift alone. She would close that door to Lilith. The ground, the air, she was slowly shutting down portals and sealing in various forms so that Lilith’s army had fewer options when they engaged with the Carpathian and Amazigh peoples.
As they approached Safia from three sides, caging her in a semi-circle, the other three former mages suddenly lifted their hands in unison to attempt the holding spell. As they did, Safia lifted the crystal sword upright so it transformed into a light so hot it blazed blue. The bright flame burst throughout the room like a star, illuminating the ceiling and bouncing a shimmering glow off every window.
The demons shrieked, covered their eyes and pulled the hoods down around their heads, trying to hide from the brilliance of the revealing light.
Petru wanted to bathe in the light. The part of him covered in dark scars wanted to hide his sins from her, but in that moment, he realized that crystal blue light was literally part of Safia’s essence. Whoever had forged the sword had used very unique properties, including traces from Safia herself. She most likely wasn’t even aware that the fierce nature of the sword and the serenity and peace came from her own innate characteristics.
“You see yourselves now,” she said gently. Her voice was angelic, almost musical, the notes in complete contrast to the grating, discordant voices coming from the demons’ throats. “You see your images, what your mistress has made you into through your own greed. No longer mage. She took your power from you.”
“No, no,” Basil protested, his tone a mixture of a harsh rumble and high-pitched shriek that shook the building and played on nerves. “I would never do that.”