Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up #5)(6)

He hadn’t needed me in the end, and although I’d thought it remarkable that he’d defeated such a strong adversary without any help, I hadn’t realized how remarkable. It turned out Austin was the only shifter in recorded history to have dominated a phoenix. Learning he’d knowingly risked his life for me, again, had nearly made me throw up (I’d ignored the primal part of me that had been incredibly turned on).

Now it was my turn. Cyra was one of the most powerful beings in the magical world. Would I measure up?

She pushed her hands forward, sending forth a thin stream of glowing red and white flame that shed smoke as it cut through the air. I fortified my shield with everything I had, as much power as I could wrap around myself.

Her magic hit my shield like a Mack truck. The point of contact couldn’t be larger than the head of a pin, but she’d condensed a staggering amount of power into it. Flame coughed out at the point of contact and black smoke drifted up.

I gritted my teeth and took a step forward, which seemed counterintuitive, but I felt the need to take some sort of action, and stepping back was not an option. Her magic burrowed into my defensive spell, incredibly potent. Cyra shook with the effort, her thin brows low and her jade eyes focused.

A surge of emotion welled up through the link. Austin clearly sensed what was happening and was sending his encouragement.

I held firm, taking another step forward. Ready for my turn. Ready to attack.

“Rip her magic away,” Hollace yelled, watching from the sidelines, holding his injured arm.

“Don’t let her sap your strength—fight back!”

“I don’t know how—”

Cyra tore away the magical magma and blasted a thick stream of fire at me, like a flamethrower. I sucked in a breath, ignoring my fatigue, and soaked in the magic. The flames looked terrifying, but they weren’t anywhere close to touching me. A moment later the magical magma was back, the pinprick focus digging into my shield. She was mixing it up to throw me off guard. Apparently she thought I had enough versatility to do more than doggedly focus on my best shield. Joke was on her.

This blast didn’t make it any deeper than the first. I could withstand her most powerful magic.

I would’ve rejoiced if she didn’t rip the spell away and sprint at me.

“Oh crap—”

She slammed into me, flash-heating the air around us and knocking me to the ground. I couldn’t feel the heat on my skin, my defensive spell soaking it in, but I could definitely feel her fingers wrapping around my throat.

I supercharged my defensive layer, which was incredibly potent from all the power she’d fed me.

The spell pulsed, turning red as it did, and zapped every square inch of her body where it was in contact with mine. She convulsed against me, but her hands were still wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air. I pulsed my power again, then fed a mini-explosion into my defensive layer, trying to force her off.

Her grip tightened around my neck, holding on. Black dots swam in my vision. Surely she wouldn’t kill me on purpose, and yet… I wasn’t sure she had a handle on herself. I wasn’t sure she would remember to let go.

Fear kindled within me. Her focus on ignoring her pain was so acute that her eyes were closed.

Air dried up in my lungs, no more coming through my closed-off throat.

No one was coming to help me.

With Austin across town, maybe no one could.

I released a hand from around her wrist and reached for my pocket, for my knife Cheryl, but claws raked across my side. I’d changed into my gargoyle form and completely forgotten about it. I had claws! Why wasn’t I using my claws?

Blackness clouded my vision, my head light. A rush of dark rage rose through me, fueling my resolve. I punched my claws into her stomach, piercing flesh. She groaned but didn’t relent. I ripped down, opening thick, messy gashes that spilled blood down on top of me. Still she held on. This woman was tenacious. I punched into her chest next, then her neck, ripping to one side. The sickly gash that opened up would’ve killed a human. She merely flinched, one hand losing strength and nearly reaching for her neck.

It was all the leeway I’d get.

I knocked her weak hand off my throat, pried the second one away, and then shoved her back. As I did, I hit her with another punch of magic that blasted her up and off.

Throat bruised, breathing ragged, I hopped onto my feet. Pulling up every ounce of power I possessed, I sent my own thin slice of magic, the nastiest spell in the Ivy House library. It cut through the air, straight for her. Her eyes widened and she poofed into her phoenix form and spread her mouth wide to catch the spell. She swallowed the spell, and I immediately sent another. This one was weaker—exhaustion was setting in—but hopefully still strong enough to beat her down.

But it didn’t have the chance. Before the next spell could reach her, she squeaked and then burst into flames, falling into a pile of smoldering ash.

The second, and now unnecessary, blast of magic continued past her, heading straight for the basajaun, who’d snuck in at some point, as if taking in a matinee movie. He was hunkered down in the tree behind the phoenix, a terrible location to watch the fight.

He dove out of the way before I could do more than holler, “Loork oww-t!”

My spell crashed into the large pine and blasted a hole into the trunk. Wood crackled and the tree shivered. I held my breath, wondering if it was going to come down. Silence descended on us, everyone else clearly wondering the same thing. Loud pops and crackles preceded the tree shaking, starting to lean, gaining speed.