Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #9)(106)

Cassie shook her head, wondering if the bickering duo were unaware of the war that raged around them.

Difficult to believe.

But before she opened her mouth to point out their danger, Levet was continuing his tirade.

“A portal is not the same as . . .” He waved his hands as words failed him.

“As?”

“As poofing.”

“Poofing? Hmmm.” The female tapped a finger to her narrow chin, her calm a direct contrast to Levet’s agitation. “I suppose that’s as good an explanation as any other.”

“Arggg.”

Cassie stepped forward. She didn’t understand the argument. Demons were, after all, as baffling as humans.

But enough was enough.

“Levet,” she said in firm tones.

On cue, the tiny gargoyle turned to offer her a bow. “Ah, ma chérie. I received your call.” He straightened to regard her with a curious gaze. “You said you have need of me?”

Cassie waved a hand toward the dozens of demons who were currently shredding one another into gory little ribbons. “We all have need of you.”

Levet followed the direction of her hand, giving a sound of distress as he fully took in the violent chaos.

Just in front of them, Caine was methodically chewing through the neck of an orc, his back marred with bloody gashes from the creature’s claws.

Toward the front of the shattered room, Styx and Salvatore laid waste to any creature stupid enough to get near their savage attacks, the growing pile of corpses surrounding them like a wall of death.

Moving with a fluid speed, Viper danced among the carnage, his sword so quick most of the demons never saw their brutal end coming.

Further on, Ariyal, the Prince of Sylvermysts, was spraying a volley of arrows into the spreading rift, while his vampire Hunter mate, Jaelyn, stood back to back with him, her sawed-off shotgun blowing large holes in the strange, troll-like monsters coated in scales with raven beaks.

There was even an elemental fey who was mated to Cezar, who was using her powers to leech out of the air the lethal heat that pulsed from the Dark Lord.

This was the fate they’d all feared.

“Sacrebleu,” Levet breathed. “As much as I wish to be of service, I fear I am no warrior. And my magic . . .” He grimaced with a bone-deep regret. “It is not predictable enough to use in battle.”

Cassie bent down so they were eye to eye, reaching to grasp his hands in a pleading grip. “That’s not why you’re here.”

He blinked in confusion. “It is not?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I don’t know,” she grudgingly confessed. “But you were in my vision.”

The gray eyes widened in fear. “What was I doing?”

She settled back on her heels, biting her lower lip as she realized how silly her explanation was going to sound.

“Tilting the scales.”

“Scales?” Levet scratched his stunted horn, clearly baffled. “What scales?”

“Those.”

Cassie pointed her hand to the center of the room where the combatants had cleared a space for the two females who stood face-to-face.

Although they were nearly obscured by the shimmer of combating energies, there was no mistaking the Dark Lord with her deceptively girlish beauty and her shadowed aura, or Abby, who was bathed in a soft glow, her eyes as brilliant as sapphires.

“Abby.” The gargoyle gasped in distress as the Dark Lord lifted her hand and bolts of lightning shot toward the Phoenix, knocking her backward. Abby grimaced in pain, but with grim determination she forced herself to step forward, continuing to surround the Dark Lord in the power of the goddess. “Non.”

With a flutter of his wings, the gargoyle abruptly charged forward, using his small stature to dart between the legs of the demons who were too busy to take notice of him.

“Levet . . . wait.” Cassie straightened, her breath squeezing from her lungs at the fear she’d just sent the precious little demon to his death. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Don’t fear.” The female demon reached to pat Cassie on the back of her leg, the pulse of her power a tangible force. “I will protect him.”

Cassie glanced down at the unpredictable creature, not entirely reassured by her promise. “Why?”

She flashed a smile filled with anticipation. And sharp teeth. Yow.

“Because I am not done playing with him yet.”

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. . . .”

Shakespeare’s words ran through Levet’s mind as he narrowly avoided a spear that nicked the top of his wing.

He’d been convinced that nothing could be worse than to be condemned as a useless lump of stone and left to rot in Styx’s garden. After all, he’d spent his considerably long life attempting to become a fierce warrior who would at last impress his brethren.

Now he realized that being a part of the battle was no better.

Not because he feared he would be killed.

Death was death. Inevitable, even to immortals.

No, what he feared was failure.

He’d always been the smallest, the weakest, and the least likely to become a hero. Even his magic was pathetic, if he was being perfectly honest.

How could he possibly be expected to “tip the scales”?