Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

“No. Someone needs to stay here and make sure the switch isn’t flipped back.” Conviction gleamed in her eyes. “I’m going to do that.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded. “What about you?”

“I want to go back to the temple room. There was something off there. Something important.”

“When I’m done, I’ll come find you.”

“Good luck.” I hugged her tight, and she gripped me back.

I raced away from her and the lever, pressing my fingertips to my comms charm as I ran. It crackled to life, and gratitude swelled through me. “Eve? You there?”

“We’re here! Did the barrier just fall? Everything looks different.”

“Yeah. There are over a dozen prisoners. Cordelia is helping them escape. More than a hundred red cloaks, too.”

“Shit.”

“I’ll be in the huge temple room with the statue. Good luck.”

“Be safe.”

“You, too.” I thought of Grey, wishing I could see him. But now wasn’t the time. Never was the time, in fact.

As I ran through the halls, the sound of battle began to ring around me. Lightning struck, no doubt from Eve, and the crash of magic reverberated through the air. Screams and shouts sounded, along with the maniacal laughter of the witches as they attacked.

The battle was in full force now, but it was the statue of Anat that drew me to her. I had to get closer, had to figure out what was going on there.

I sprinted into an empty room, nearly at the statue. Only a couple rooms away, now.

“Hey!” A loud voice sounded from behind, and I whirled.

A figure staggered toward me, tall and strong. Blood poured from the throat where a wound gaped. The hood had been pulled back, revealing the memorable squashed face and black eyes of the first man that Coraline had killed with such glee.

Shock raced through me. “You should be dead.”

He laughed, an ugly sound. “Never.”

Shit, shit, shit.

He had definitely been dead. I’d seen it with my own eyes, and there was no way to survive the deep wound in his throat. Yet he was definitely walking around and ready to rip my head off.

As he neared, I felt the same dark magic that had wafted from the statue of Anat. It was slimy and unbalanced.

“What magic is this?” I demanded, dancing out of his way as I kept my dagger at the ready.

How was I supposed to kill someone who was already dead?

“The power of Anat, a gift to us.” His words were a growl.

“Stolen, I am sure.” I eyed him, debating where to stab or slice.

A creaking sounded from above, and I glanced up.

A huge metal chandelier hung above us, a massive, rustic thing. Cordelia sat on top of it, her little hands gripping the chain that affixed it to the ceiling.

Get out of the way, dummy.