Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1)(60)

The Devil’s security team and my friends burst into the church, spreading out to attack. Magic flashed as the shifters transformed into powerful beasts—a bear, a lion, a tiger, and three wolves. In the flash of an eye, Quinn transformed into a massive golden panther. He roared and lunged for a cloaked figure, while Mac drew her sword and charged another. The eight of them moved quickly, going for the supernaturals who fought back with magic that flashed and boomed through the church.

Eve’s glittering wings appeared behind her, and she launched herself into the air, flying high as she raised her hands and shot lightning from her palms. She aimed for the necromancer, but her attack was deflected by the invisible shield that protected him.

In front of him, the glowing organs had shrunk in size, combining to form a shining red jewel. Magic radiated from it, dark and terrifying. Slowly, the gem lowered toward the woman.

Triumph radiated from the necromancer. The gem was a weapon. If it reached her, this was all over.

Damn it. We had to get past that shield.

The Devil seemed to agree. As the battle raged around us, he charged the necromancer. He moved like a steam train, so fast and powerful that he plowed through the barrier. Magic exploded from him, sending me flying, and I crashed against the wall in a flare of pain.

By the time I got back to my feet, he had the necromancer by the neck. Both were on their knees, and much of the Devil’s skin was blackened by an oily substance.

I sprinted for them. A red-cloaked figure nearly collided with me, but Quinn shoved his massive panther body between me and danger.

I reached the Devil in time to hear him demand, “Make it stop.”

To the left of him and the necromancer, the glowing gem lowered closer to the woman. By then, it was only half a meter above her chest.

“Make it stop,” the Devil demanded. “Cease this magic.”

“It can’t be stopped,” the necromancer hissed, blinking his eyes frantically to avoid the Devil’s mind control power.

His hood had partially fallen away, revealing a pale-skinned man with sandy hair and burning black eyes. The Devil’s face was twisted with pain and effort, and the black substance that covered his arms and chest seemed to be steaming, as if it were eating away at his skin.

Necromancer magic, and it was hurting him.

Killing him?

Something twisted in my chest—a weakness. Our connection was flickering, as if his life force was fading. Panic flared, worry screaming through me.

The necromancer’s words were thick with triumph. “It is Orion’s Heart, and once it is inside her, it will be complete.”

The Devil’s hand tightened on his neck, the knuckles turning white. “Stop the spell.”

The necromancer’s eyes began to fog.

Yes. The Devil’s mind control was working. He would force him to stop this.

But the necromancer shook his head like a dog, as though shaking off the Devil’s control. “Never,” he said through gritted teeth. “My work here is done.”

My skin chilled at his satisfaction.

He raised a hand, his dark cloak flapping around his arm, and slammed something into his mouth.

Immediately, his skin began to turn to ash. It looked like something out of a movie as his body crumbled and flaked away.

The Devil lurched back, his movements slow and sluggish. Weaker.

Holding the necromancer had grievously wounded him.

As for the necromancer, he’d turned into a pathetic pile of ash.

Dead. No.

Our answers were gone with him.

I spun toward the woman on the altar, the blood roaring in my ears. The necromancer’s terrible gem was closing in, drawn to her still form. It was only centimeters away now. Asleep, she looked so peaceful and pretty, just a girl who had no idea that her entire life was at stake.

Terror for her opened a hole in my chest. I couldn’t bear to watch her die, a victim to dark magic and evil. And what would happen if the necromancer’s spell was complete?

We couldn’t afford to find out.

I reached for the stone, but it was surrounded by flames. I screamed and jerked my hand backward. Too hot to touch.

I tried to push her off the altar, away from the stone, but she was protected by the same charm. The dark magic burned my hands fiercely, and I yanked them back. Damn it. Damn it. There had to be a way to stop this.

The Devil was incapacitated. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him struggling to stand. All around, the fight raged. My friends were fighting to get to me, but there was no time.

I lunged for the pile of ashes that had once been the necromancer, grabbing his charred cloak. Images flashed in my mind, sickening and terrible, turning my stomach. My gift was scrambling inside me, trying to find valuable information from the remnants of the man who had created this disaster.

Only the one who holds the stone can control it.

The message flashed in my mind, clear as day. I had to hold the stone.

The memory of the burning made my stomach lurch, but I ignored it. I lunged upright, moving for the altar.

“No.” The Devil’s voice was weak. He’d made it to his feet, but he was being poisoned by the black oil that covered him. “Let me.”

I ignored him, stretching my hand out for the gem, determined to tear it away before it reached the girl.

Pain like I’d never known shot through my hand and up my arm. Tears stung my eyes, and sweat broke out on my skin. I pushed my hand harder, forcing it through the thick, agonizing air. It was like shoving my hand through a container full of glass.