This was his best friend.
“How’d that feel?” Baer asked lightly.
Clay’s brow furrowed and he shoved a hand through his dark hair to push it from his face. “What?”
“Taking command like that.”
Clay snorted, but a hint of a smile teased one corner of his mouth. “Had to. You fucking miscreants would have set the whole place on fire.”
“Uh-huh,” Baer said, not buying it for a second. Clay was born to be a leader.
Thank God, because Baer didn’t want it. He was happy to follow Clay. Proud to, even. And he wanted to do better about being more dependable and less reckless.
“Are you picking up anything from the animals?”
Baer winced. He still had a lot of work to do, obviously. He’d forgotten to check in with the animals. His attention had been split between worry over Wiley and how impressed he was with Clay. As they walked, he tapped into the power inside his chest and sent it winging, reaching out to any and all animals in the immediate area. The light feeling touched on birds, field mice, and squirrels. They all set off in various directions while his magic reached out farther before slamming into a black wall. It was the witch, and she had animals with her.
But he couldn’t tell what the animals were or how many she was traveling with. Her powers created a brick wall of darkness that he couldn’t pierce. Which meant that he also couldn’t reach the animals in her control.
“It’s her and she does have animals, but the spell…I can’t tell what she has or how many. I’m waiting for the other animal scouts to report back.”
“Baer’s army,” Clay murmured.
About ten feet from where the driveway met the blacktop of the street, Clay stopped walking. Baer stood on Clay’s left with the shotgun ready. Nerves twisted in his stomach and rankled along his body, while old rage resurfaced as he remembered the snakes invading their house, attacking his friends, and biting Wiley.
With it came a complicated sadness for the animals being used like this. Sure, he called in animals for battles, but they were largely used as distractions to buy him and his brothers some time. When their job was done, they were sent safely away. Few were killed in fights with the pestilents. But what the witch was doing, using them as unwilling soldiers in her war, was cruel and it broke his heart. This witch needed to fucking die.
The birds were starting to report back first. Their thoughts were incredibly unclear, but he was getting the impression of scary and enormous. Lots were coming their way, but he couldn’t get them to clarify if they meant pestilents, humans, or animals.
“It’s big, Clay. Whatever she’s bringing, it’s big.”
Clay’s frown deepened and he cursed softly. “Big enough to warrant Dane getting the cars ready?”
“I don’t know. I can call in some big animals to try to even our numbers, but with her here, I don’t know if she can steal control from me. Don’t want to make an even bigger problem for us.”
“We’ll hold for now.”
Baer nodded, his eyes falling on the first hint of the witch’s army. As they grew closer, it became clear that there were at least two dozen pestilents with her and at least twice as many coyotes. The fact that she’d gone with something from the Canis family made Baer’s blood run cold. They were just a hop, skip, and a jump along the evolutionary scale away from Ruby.
Yet, the truly impressive sight was a woman dressed in what looked to be black leather, riding a white horse. Her dark hair hung loose down her back, and a cold smile sat on her thin lips.
The wind shifted, and both of them gagged as the stench from the rotting pestilents swept over them. It was like he’d bitten into roadkill roasting in the summer sun.
“Fucking A,” Baer swore.
“Yeah. Doubt I’m going to be in the mood for dinner tonight.”
But the smell was briefly forgotten when the witch stopped her pale horse just a few feet from the edge of the driveway with a sneer. The other pestilents remained behind her, looking uncomfortable, as if they could feel the magic that kept them out. The coyotes became still as statues, their gazes empty as they stared ahead of them. It was like they were completely unaware of what was happening around them.
The witch looked from Clay to Baer and then back to Clay before she finally spoke. “You must be the one they call Clay.”
Baer snorted. “And here I thought we’d need name tags.”
The witch glared at him, but Clay didn’t flinch or move a muscle.
“You spoke with Cor, then,” Clay said.
“He made his report to our leaders. And you killed him.”
Clay gave a careless shrug. “He was warned. We are finishing this at last. The rift will be shut, and your kind will never open it again.”