Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Cain was resolute that it wouldn’t work so well now.
But he’d have to first help the other Ancients tire out Lailah and Saul, which wasn’t proving easy.
“Watch out for those pulsing surges of energy that Saul’s throwing,” said Seth, a note of pain in his voice. “They hit like a fucking sledgehammer.”
“I learned that the hard way,” said Cain, once more warping a cloud of sand into a swarm of bees and siccing them on the Aeons. “My thigh is still partially numb from the hit.” His leg had almost buckled under the force of it. “You okay?”
“I’ve got a broken rib for sure,” replied Seth.
A female shriek of anger preceded a crack of power that dispersed the swarm of bees. Lailah sharply waved her arm, projecting a shower of rocks, pebbles, and crystals at the Ancients.
A massive gust of power rushed out of one of the Ancients and met the ‘shower,’ absorbing every fragment before they could make contact with anyone. Dantalion, Cain suspected.
Yelling something at the troops that Cain couldn’t quite hear, Saul raised his arms, palms out … and then crackling projectiles of fire whooshed toward the Ancients so damn fast all they could do was try to dodge them.
Cain hissed loudly as one brushed his arm, burning through cloth and grating off layers of skin. “Bastard.” Before he had a moment to retaliate, a large wave of ash formed into a cloud of bats—a signature move of Lilith’s—and promptly flew at the Aeons. She chuckled when the immortals flapped their arms at the creatures and cried out in alarm. But that laugh turned into a harsh expletive when Saul sent yet more projectiles their way wickedly fast.
Clenching his fists, Cain readied himself to dodge the projectiles, but they didn’t aim at him or the other Ancients. No, they blasted the manor. It was a pointless move, since the building was warded against any and all attacks. But, unaware of that, Saul continued to blast the manor.
Cain spared Azazel a quick glance. “Cover me while I focus on Saul.”
As Saul relentlessly attacked the manor, Cain took advantage of his distraction—striking with orbs, beams, and waves of pure power.
Instead of retaliating, Saul used the element of air to ‘jump’ from spot to spot in an attempt to evade any ‘blows’ … perhaps thinking that Cain was attacking him so hard to distract him from destroying the manor.
Again, Cain took advantage, striking repeatedly; drawing blood, slamming flesh hard enough to bruise, bombarding the Aeon with blinding pain.
With a roar, Saul locked his gaze on him. Maybe feeling forced to defend himself or maybe finally realizing that attempting to damage the manor would get him nowhere, the Aeon sent out a wave of water that swiftly turned to ice as it whooshed through the air.
Cain slammed the block of ice with enough power to knock it off-course, sending it crashing into the river below. He smirked at Saul, goading—
A female cry of outrage sounded. Ishtar. Familiar pulses of power then shot toward the first line of Aeons and yanked at their shadows, causing said Aeons to fall on their asses and slide toward the edge of the cliff … exposing the two ruling Aeons they’d been shielding. A gust of Azazel’s power rammed into the two siblings, knocking them down like skittles, scraping at their flesh like claws.
Saul called on air to relocate him fast while Lailah slammed her hand on the ground. Most of the fallen Aeons skidded to a halt, but a few tumbled off the cliff with cries of terror. As Lailah joined those shielding her in leaping to her feet with a snarl, Cain drank in the fear that briefly flickered across her face.
“She’s finally realized that she’s in deep shit,” said Azazel.
Cain nodded. “Took her long enough.”
Power again began whipping back and forth as the two sides went back to exchanging pitiless blows.
*
A line of white flames thundered to life, seeming to spurt out of the ground in front of the chanting Moonstar witches. Hissing and spitting, those flames raced toward Wynter and her coven, their heat searing.
“Not today, Satan.” Anabel/Mary tossed a glass vial on the ground, and a large billow of crimson smoke rose up in the air and put out the flames in an instant. “Lovely.”
“Hattie, Delilah—go at them from the rear,” ordered Wynter, her words coming fast. “Xavier, send some of your corpses to attack the coven from all angles. Let’s keep their attention divided.”
“You got it,” he told her, crouching down to touch the nearest dead bodies.
It was as bird and feline slinked off that balls of fiery magick sailed at Wynter. She repelled them with her blade, sending them whooshing back toward the people who’d tossed them.
The two covens then went head to head.
Each blow of magick on both sides was merciless. Cloth ripped or burned. Skin tore or blistered. Blood pooled or splattered. Bones snapped or cracked. Glass shattered as Anabel/Mary tossed potion after potion that negated and blocked magickal hits.