Unblessed Witch (Phases of the Moon #4)

17. Deva

17

DEVA

“I still liked the armor better,” I said to Boo as I slipped a metal pendant around my neck. It hung lower than Oz’s necklace and would be used for protecting our familiars during battle while still allowing us to travel with them and draw from their power.

It was really cool in theory, especially since it was Lazaro’s mom who gave them to us, but…I still felt bad because Boo’s creativity on the armor had been amazing. My familiar let out a sound of complaint before flopping down on her back with a scowl. See? She was bummed out also.

“Nearly ready?” Alek asked, smoothing a hand over my waist. I nodded and closed my hand around the pendant, focusing on calling my familiar into the pendant as Grim’s mom had instructed. When Boo let out a purr of excitement and then her presence disappeared, I smiled, feeling her magic warm the metal resting against my chest.

“Yes!” I said as I took one more look over what I was wearing. I’d been outfitted in a uniform that reminded me a lot of what I wore for sparring class. Black leather leggings and boots, soft and pliable, as well as a top that fit to my frame with flexible protective armor that covered my most vulnerable points. My hair was pulled back in a long braid, and my face and hands were painted in delicate runes.

Those were a recent addition, something I hoped would prove to be useful in stopping the spells Astaroth might use as well as aiding in the one I planned to use on him. We’d inked runes that would help me block each of the three spells Boneclaw had identified—all I’d have to do was activate the appropriate runes and invoke a spoken word.

Armed as I was, my magic fully restored and eager to be used, I felt ready to deal with Astaroth. I just hoped that my sense of confidence wasn’t a sense of naivety or ignorance.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked Alek as we stepped outside. Massive lines of cloaked soldiers awaited orders to cross through the wards and onto the battlefield. Scouts and advance units had already been sent out in preparation for our attack, ready to counteract any surprises Astaroth tried to spring on us.

Astaroth may or may not have realized it yet, but he was already surrounded, and even more witches would be coming his way within the hour. The energy surging through the camp was palpable. My chin rose as a few people clapped my shoulder in passing, offering their confidence and support.

We had the numbers, now I just had to do my part. I had to finish Astaroth.

When we reached the wards, we took a left and moved along the perimeter of the camp, moving away from the crowd. We wouldn’t be leaving with them.

In fact, we planned on waiting until they were halfway to the compound, until Astaroth’s attention was fully focused on the incoming attack, before portalling to the location where we’d exited the dungeon. It would trigger the wards no doubt, but there was only so much Astaroth could handle at once. The plan was to travel through the dungeon to get to the main estate and find our target.

The plan was simple on the surface, but there were a million things that could go wrong, so I was betting on our ability to be adaptable.

When we reached the other men I found myself drawn to Cage, his hand stringing through my hair before he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. His solid heartbeat under my ear as I leaned into his chest had me feeling secure, and when Alek smoothed a hand up my back, I felt perfectly insulated between the two of them. I heard the call for the troops to move out, and I braced myself for the anxiety to hit me—the dread of the unknown.

But it wasn’t there. It was completely absent.

Instead I watched the lines of infantry roll out, and my instinct told me that this time we were prepared. We had to be, because this was our last chance. Astaroth wouldn’t tolerate another loss. He would fight until one of us was the winner or one of us was dead. There would be no ability to retreat, to fight again another day.

It was win or lose, no other option.

Slipping from my place between Alek and Cage, I walked past Lazaro and Grim, squeezing their hands in passing on my way to Oz. His gaze was on Springer who he’d yet to put away, the spider swinging from one finger to the next in a delicate balancing act.

“You’re keeping him out?” I asked curiously.

“Just until we leave,” Oz explained. “I can tell he missed being around us.”

Us. I loved that, and I knew that was true because Boo had been thrilled to see my men too, giving them cuddles and happily jumping right into their arms. I put out a finger to Springer and he jumped onto it, quickly releasing a string of silk to swing from. I smiled at his antics before placing him on Oz’s shoulder.

“Adorable.”

“ See Springer? You’re adorable,” Cage called back from over his shoulder, causing Oz to narrow his eyes.

“He is,” I said in defense. I knew not everyone was a fan of spiders, but Springer wasn’t your normal spider. He was particularly cute. From his multiple sets of eyes to the fur on his eight legs, I thought he was super adorable.

“Alright, our turn,” Grim said, his voice filled with a heavy determination. Nodding, I watched as Springer disappeared in a flash of shadows that pulled him into Oz’s pendant, then joined the rest of my men at the perimeter of the ward. Before we stepped through, I took a deep breath and looked at each one of them in turn.

“I love all of you, so incredibly much,” I whispered. “Let’s finish this.”

I didn’t give them a chance to respond before I stepped through the ward. They were right behind me, Grim’s and Alek’s magics collapsing over us to portal. Darkness surrounded us on all sides, and in a mere second, it was over.

We stumbled slightly as we landed in the shadow of the compound, then we were instantly on the move. The ward pushed in resistance to us but let us through, the sound of the approaching army drawing attention from upstairs and hopefully distracting from our movement.

As we approached the wall of the compound, my chest relaxed seeing that the part in the wall of the dungeon which had been blasted apart remained unfixed. Materials to repair it were stacked nearby, but no one was there to do any actual work. Ducking into the cavern where we’d found Kazimir was easy, but finding how to go ‘up’ from there proved more difficult.

It took around five minutes before a rock in the ceiling gave way and we were able to shift it to reveal a dim hallway above us. Pulling ourselves up and through, the six of us silently closed up the hole and looked around the space we were in. I immediately recognized it.

“We’re in the basement,” I said quietly. “It’s where a lot of the storage is. We need to go about four floors up. Follow me.”

Despite having been gone for years, I knew this place too damn well.

As we crept through the basement hallway, I listened to the sound of the floors above us, the stampede of activity as Astaroth’s followers made their way outside to respond to our incoming attack. I could practically feel their panic at the concept of displeasing their master. I wondered if any of them would still be alive at the end of all this—and if they were, would they have the clarity to understand that they were finally free?

“Staircase.” Lazaro came to a stop a few feet behind me, pointing out a sharp turn in the hallway that led to another staircase—one that hadn’t been there before. As we paused to consider, I heard the sound of pounding boots making their way down the main staircase.

“Let’s take that one,” I agreed. We jogged quietly toward it, making our way up in agile lethal steps. I felt my magic stir defensively. I remembered these walls well, the amount of blood that had been shed through each corridor we passed. We were able to make it up two floors, past the first and into the second, before we had to leave the hidden staircase.

Immediately we were met with the enemy.

“Shit,” Alek grunted as four witches turned sharply at our arrival, having just emerged from a room themselves. Before they could say a word, their faces turned icy white and they burst into sacks of skin and bone, plus a pool of blood on the floor.

Oh. Oh wow.

My brows arched as I looked to Cage, who offered me a bright smile. He shrugged. “I’ve had some anger pent up. Sorry, I may have been a bit rash.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” I murmured.

“And it didn’t make much noise,” Lazaro pointed out.

“Efficient,” Oz agreed. I sighed, shaking my head. I knew that whatever that had been shouldn’t be normalized…but I couldn’t find it in me to be that upset. Those witches had worn uniforms marking them as higher-ups. They knew exactly what they were part of.

Jumping over the puddle of blood and gore, we made our way toward a crossroad where we jogged left and took another staircase up. We were able to avoid most main corridors, and my men easily took care of any witches we came across before they could say a word. Honestly, it was impressive and a bit terrifying how efficient they were at killing, and I so wasn’t one to talk. It was also clear they had been feeling pent up and frustrated because their killing was particularly gory.

“Down,” Lazaro commanded as we rounded another corner. We hit the floor, and his lunar magic soared over our heads to blast holes into three chests. Oz—freakin’ Oz—chuckled at the way their bodies fell over. The man was feeling damn near ecstatic at the plethora of killing opportunities, and I didn’t even blame him.

After all, these were the same people who had taken away his parents at a very young age. Something I never allowed myself to forget. I wasn’t the only one whose life had taken a turn as a direct result of his agenda.

“Around this corner should be his throne room,” I bit out. “I’m going to aim for the door and try to get through.”

“I’ll come with you while the others hold anyone else off from joining us,” Alek said. The others went along without argument, making it clear they’d already had a discussion about this.

We moved forward quietly, and when I peeked my head around the corner, I found the two-story door that we needed to enter. It was surrounded by eight witches, their silver cloaks pulled down to reveal faces that while I couldn’t name, felt familiar.

And not in a good way.

Grim and Lazaro slipped past me, and before I could say a word, magic exploded out from the two of them.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, watching in awe as lunar and shadow magic arched through the air and hit two of the men, immediately eliminating them.

“What the fuck?” The voice was drowned out as pure battle broke out, my men moving toward their prey in quick, lethal movements, cutting them down efficiently as Alek urged me toward the door. I could feel how angry my men were, but it was nothing compared to when the doors to the room opened to reveal the person the eight guards had been talking to.

“Ozul,” I sneered. The bastard’s head snapped my way. How the fuck was he alive? I had gutted him! I had left him for dead. This was absolutely the reason that you always finished the job.

“You bitch?—”

Oz was on him in less than a second, and my eyes widened as his knife wedged itself into Ozul’s throat from the back, a bloody gurgle cutting off his words. The man dropped to his knees as Oz sank his knife in deeper before pulling it out and then hitting him right in the chest. “You should’ve stayed dead. It would have been a mercy compared to what I plan to do.”

Shit. I inhaled sharply, wanting to watch the dark spectacle, but Alek’s hand on my back reminded me that we had a job to do—one that was far more important than watching the sick bastard suffer.

Plus, if Ozul was already out here, it meant that Astaroth was probably alone. He usually preferred his security on the outside so he could focus during times of battle.

Focus on what, I had no idea. The man almost always avoided the battlefield. One time, when a group tried to attack the compound—probably the Society, come to think of it—he locked himself in there and made me stand by his side in case someone reached him. How ironic it was that now I was the one here to kill him.

“I have no idea what will be in there,” I warned Alek, who nodded sharply.

Suddenly, Alek turned me into his chest, slamming his palm up and against the chest of a soldier who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. A hard spike of shadow magic came out of Alek’s palm as he impaled him easily.

Shit. That was close.

“Come on, zaya ,” he growled, his magic dropping as the body fell. When we reached the door, I realized the hall had been cleared of any threats. Oz crouched over Ozul’s mangled body as he finally pulled his knife out of his sternum…before wiping it on his shirt, looking satisfied as hell.

“We’re coming with you,” Cage said, nodding toward the door. “You aren’t facing this bastard alone.”

Nodding, I turned toward the door and pushed it open, the scent of blood instantly hitting me as light pooled into the darkened room. My stomach dropped with disgust.

I’d been wrong. There were others in here, but they weren’t protecting Astaroth.

They were feeding him.