Magic Shifts (Kate Daniels 8)

“Hey, bitch,” George stepped forward, her voice sharp. “Where is Eduardo?”

Samantha stared at her, her eyes unblinking.

The skin on Nick’s arms burst open. Two green whips shot out of his arms and bounced off Samantha’s magic shield. The former knight of the Order opened her mouth. Her teeth didn’t belong in a human jaw. She rolled her head back and laughed.

“Laugh all you want.” Bahir drew back his hood.

“You!” Samantha hissed. The djinn had to have felt his presence, but seeing him must’ve pushed the ifrit over the edge.

“I live, creature. I am here. I’ve come to reclaim my son.”

The magic around Samantha surged up, twisting into an invisible tornado. Her face turned dark, her eyes glowing like two embers.

“You have no power to defeat me!” Bahir screamed.

Samantha shrieked, her voice slashing my ears. “I wish for the power to destroy my enemies!”

Wind slammed into me, hurling me backward. I flew, fell, and slid across the floor and rolled to my feet. To my left Derek caught Bahir in midair and set him on the floor.

On the throne, caught in the funnel of a magical tornado, Samantha’s body grew. Her legs thickened, her spine reached up, her arms grew massive like tree trunks. Her lips drew back, exposing a forest of teeth; her ears lengthened; her eyes pivoted in her skull, turning into pools of orange fire. The ceiling parted above her, revealing a cage suspended by a thick chain. In the cage Eduardo grabbed the bars and recoiled. He looked like a ghost.

Samantha raised her enormous arms to the sky, her black claws glowing at their tips, and bellowed.

The gaggle of men behind her shivered, morphed, and a pack of leonine creatures snarled in unison, spreading massive leathery wings. Manticores. Shit.

“Clan Heavy,” Curran roared. “Take out the manticores.”

The werebears went furry. The manticores charged, screaming and gliding above the floor.

“Take your places.” Curran’s voice cut through the snarls and growls. “Remember the plan.”

Plan. Right.

I dashed toward the giantess. A manticore swiped at me from above. I dodged to the side. The claws scraped my scalp and then a thousand-pound polar bear leaped above me, ramming into the manticore. They rolled across the floor, snarling. I kept running.

Samantha’s enormous feet loomed before me. A manticore crashed into me. Its claws pinned my right arm to the floor, piercing my bicep. The huge ugly maw gaped over me, trying to swallow my entire head. I stabbed my throwing knife into the side of its neck, freed the blade, and stabbed it again. Hot blood spurted over me.

Suddenly, the manticore vanished, jerked aside. I rolled up and saw Adib bite through the beast’s neck with his jaws. Fire dashed down his mane. His claws glowed and bright sparks fell off his furry sides.

I ran for the giantess. On the other side, three knights were moving together, trying to get in position.

I pulled the small vial of my blood out of my pocket as I sprinted. The second giant had healed his injuries. This one would heal even faster, and I probably had only seconds before the ifrit regenerated her body, so this maneuver had to be done fast. I wouldn’t get a second chance.

A black viscous liquid coated Samantha’s skin, emerging from her pores like sweat. A slightly sweet odor saturated the air. The djinn had covered her in crude oil to keep us from climbing her. The sonovabitch was learning, but not fast enough.

I drew Sarrat. A huge foot rose above me, its sole glowing-hot, the first hint of metal forming in long scales over the skin. I dashed to the side and spun about as she stomped and crushed the vial of my blood onto Sarrat’s blade. My magic sparked, reacting to the saber’s magic, forming a second edge, crimson and unnaturally sharp.

Above me, Bahir screamed. “Face me!”

Amal swooped down at the giantess’s face, like a hawk, and he sliced her cheek with his burning blade. I caught a glimpse of George climbing up the column toward Eduardo’s cage.

The giantess swatted at Bahir, trying to grab him with her clawed fingers, forgetting I was even there.

Thank you, Bahir. I charged forward and slashed across the back of the giantess’s leg. The crimson edge sliced through the thin fledgling metal and Sarrat cut into the springy mass of tissue just above the heel, severing it. Bye-bye, Achilles tendon.

The giantess bellowed and kicked at me with her now-useless leg. I jumped as far right as I could and instantly knew it wasn’t far enough. Curran caught me in midair, the force of his leap taking us to safety. The foot missed us by inches. His feet touched the ground. He twisted and threw me back toward the giantess. We’d practiced this move in our morning sparring, and the conditioning took over. I landed on my feet, sprinted, and sliced the second tendon.