Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(76)

I sucked in a breath as Ian flew at the Anzu that was flapping its great wings to reach him at the top of the circle. Right before Ian slammed into it, his arm shot out. The horn did, too, stabbing the creature through its open, fanged mouth. The impact rocketed them both to the ground, Ian’s entire arm disappearing down the creature’s throat. They hit the ground hard enough to make it shudder. My heart seized. Nothing was happening. Just like before, the Anzu wasn’t hurt—

Ian ripped his arm forward. The dark tip of the horn sliced through the Anzu’s back like a butcher cleaving off a tender piece of meat. It didn’t stop even when it reached the Anzu’s head. Another brutal rip, and two bony halves fell to the side, while an eruption of a thick blue fluid burst from the center. The Anzu shuddered once and then it lay completely still.

Dagon turned paler than his normal ivory visage. Then he screamed and flung himself at Ian’s circle, beating on it. But the same spell that kept Ian and I trapped also locked the demon out. Ian’s circle had the same defensive reaction to being touched on the outside as it did on the inside, though. I fell over, more blood blinding and choking me while my organs felt like they were exploding, then burning.

“Die, die, die!” Dagon screamed.

I felt like I would. That must be Dagon’s goal. A person’s body could only take so much, vampire healing abilities or not.

Then Ian’s voice cut through the merciless pain. “Veritas!”

Dammit, one more costly distraction could be Ian’s last! I forced myself into a sitting position, my abrupt wave saying worry about yourself, not me! I wasn’t the one locked in a circle with an Anzu.

Dagon kept chanting “Die!” while beating on the circle. Every blow slammed into me. Once again, all I saw was red and all I tasted was blood. I didn’t know it was possible for my body to contain this much blood, or produce this much pain. It maddened me, making me grasp at anything that could help.

I yanked my other nature out of her cage, crying out in relief at the brief respite of her being in the forefront instead of me. It lessened the pain, allowing me to see through her far more detached eyes as she rose up from my blood and the thicker, heavier things I’d retched to look at Ian.

It reminded me of Ashael’s unique spying method. Everything was coated in red, making the struggle between Ian and the remaining Anzu look more like a blood-soaked nightmare than reality.

The Anzu tore into Ian’s shoulder, fangs ripping out hunks of flesh as it slammed Ian into the circle’s invisible wall. Agony exploded, so intense that it seared me even through my other half. When it lessened and I could see again, Ian’s right shoulder was gone, his arm was hanging by only a few stubborn ligaments, and the Anzu was closing in for another gouging bite.

I screamed, hearing the echo of it leave my other half’s lips. She no longer felt as separate from me, just as I could no longer use her as a shield. The pain had stitched us too tightly together. Or maybe we were both struck with horror at the sight of the Anzu savagely ripping into Ian. His huge mouth closed over Ian’s shoulder once again, tearing at the gaping wound. Ian’s right arm hit the floor, severed. Then his back bowed from the creature’s weight as the Anzu bore down on him, wings flapping for maximum assault velocity.

Dagon howled in victory and stopped beating on the outside of Ian’s circle. Ereshki ran forward, clapping with the delight of a child. Ian dropped to his knees beneath the Anzu’s massive form. His blood splattered the circle’s edge, sending more stabs into me that paled next to the anguish of seeing Ian on his knees.

The Anzu reared back for another flesh-rending bite—

Ian twisted, using the blood slicking the ground to slide past the Anzu’s descending head. Then he stabbed the horn through the creature’s mouth so violently, the tip went straight through the Anzu’s head and into the wall of the circle.

Pain blasted me, but beneath it, I felt a crack! that stopped the pain for a blissful moment.

When I looked up, the horn’s tip was still embedded in the wall surrounding the circle, and now, a spiderweb of fractures spread out to reveal that part of the invisible wall.

“No,” Dagon whispered. “It’s not possible!”

But it was. Brute force and multiple blasts of magic hadn’t made a single fissure in the circle, but somehow, the horn could damage it. And if it could be damaged, it could fall.

Ian kicked the dead Anzu aside. Then, its blue blood mixing with the scarlet swaths that splattered him, he rose, eyeing the crack with single-minded focus.

“Use the horn to break the circle!” I shouted, a fierce thrill of hope acting as a shot of adrenaline. “It isn’t the same as using magic. That crack you made stopped the pain!”

“No!” Dagon screamed, now beating against the walls with everything he had. Ereshki ran over to join him. Their double assault ripped into me with blinding ferocity, but amidst that, I felt another, stronger crack! that briefly stopped the pain.

“It’s working!” I croaked when my throat cleared of blood enough for me to speak. “Don’t stop!”

He didn’t. I felt each hammer of Ian’s fist against that wall in the snap of my bones becoming slower and the pulverizing of my insides becoming less crippling. Soon, I caught glimpses of Ian through the blood that took longer to block out my vision.

Ian had the horn wrapped around his hand like a pair of brass knuckles as he hammered at the wall with the determination of the damned. Fractures made the entire circle visible from floor to ceiling, resembling cracked glass. Dagon and Ereshki had switched to beating against my circle instead of Ian’s, and the fury on Dagon’s face was balm to my endless pain.