Battle With Fire (Demon Days & Vampire Nights)

Roger stood halfway between their people and the portal, nude and waiting for word. He faced the two constantly arguing Seers, who stood to Charity’s right. Romulus stood beside Roger with a composed though expectant expression on his face.

“We need time to get them through the portal,” Karen shouted at the Red Prophet.

A battle scene flickered through Charity’s mind, but she squinted to clear it, not letting it materialize. Her visions were coming often, always changing, like a TV on the fritz. It was not normal for their kind, and given she was only half fae, she’d heard whispers questioning whether she could be trusted at all.

Short answer: no. Not when it came to predicting the future. Though the Red Prophet had said the frequency of the visions indicated the battle would likely be coming soon.

Well, no shit.

“Hey,” she said to Roger and Romulus as she approached.

“It is a fine line between enough time…and too much time.” The Red Prophet looked at the sky. “We have made a huge boon today, though only one will have realized it, and he ain’t talking.”

Karen slammed her hand down on the TV tray propped up in the dirt. Her crystal ball jumped. A few tarot cards fluttered in the breeze. The left side of her folding chair dug into a soft patch. “I don’t care about what happened earlier; I care about what will happen in ten to twenty minutes. My child is approaching this portal from the other side with her merry band of idiots, and I need to get her help so that she can make it through. Focus.”

“Yes. I can see how this might be a troubling time for you,” Red Prophet said slowly, as if she was trying to calm Karen down. The two were like cats and dogs, the rabid variety.

“Hello,” Romulus said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was always happy to see her, which was miraculous, since nobody else was happy at all. The other warrior fae weren’t just questioning her visions but the whole enterprise. Apparently they’d forgotten the elves’ mistreatment and their trespasses against both Charity and Romulus.

Of course, since most of them had been hiding in the Flush, they’d only heard about those things secondhand. They probably thought Romulus had made it up to support her.

Whatever the case, her people were shaken up, but there wasn’t much she could do about it at this point but stay the course. This had to be done for the good of all.

“How are you?” her father asked, which meant she’d at least mastered the fae art of appearing not to give a shit. She was getting very, very good at hiding her extreme anxiety and turmoil over what was to come.

“Great.” And she’d gotten very good at lying, too. “Everyone is primed and ready. It doesn’t sound like they have an exact time—”

“Five minutes,” the Red Prophet yelled, and put out her hands before bending to the side and windmilling her arms. She went all in with the dramatics when she did this stuff. It was tough to take after a while.

Karen’s lips pressed into a hard line, and it came as little surprise when she started shuffling her deck. Wind whirled up from the flat ground, bringing the smell of cultivated lands and the distant cows. This was a working ranch in some respects, but thankfully there was so much acreage that the shifter predators could move about freely—or congregate around the portal—without disturbing the livestock.

With a sudden movement, Karen slapped a few cards down, her gaze straight ahead. Her eyes flicked downward and then shifted back and forth, reading her cards. She nodded with a sigh. “Five minutes. From…”

“Now!” the Red Prophet called.

“N—” Karen scowled at her. She clearly couldn’t be rid of the fae Seer soon enough. They’d probably both retire after this.

Romulus looked at the waiting force before stepping away and gracefully pulling his sword. Roger’s skin bubbled and boiled as he reduced down into a large wolf, much bigger than his natural counterpart. Charity felt the song of battle pick up on the breeze. She looked through her people to find Devon just behind, a big black wolf working his way up the ranks. He wasn’t ranked highly enough to be standing up here with them yet, but she knew it wouldn’t be long.

His yellow-eyed gaze bored into hers, and excitement and anticipation washed through their magical link, fueling her adrenaline and strengthening her resolve. Her answering confidence swayed back to him. She didn’t know about the visions, and she couldn’t help what her people thought of her, but fighting and battle had always made sense in a way that required no description. It was in her blood. Before long, her people would realize that. The shifters already had.

She turned to face the portal, on the other side of Roger from her father, and drew her sword. The song of battle increased. A vision flickered through her mind, but she cut it off and chased it away. Not now.