Book 3 in The Ephemeral series.
After the attack on Havenbrooke, Alex Kingsley―a social outcast turned war hero―is now the most powerful woman in Ells. But her life, along with Will's future and the fate of 2,000 demonic prisoners, rests in the han...
A fresh legion of demons pushed and shoved against the walls of the swelling vortex, anticipating sweet deliverance. At any moment, thousands of them would burst from the trembling funnel and coalesce, cementing a future that made my heart cower against my posterior ribs.
This outcome had always been a possibility, but seeing the beam of hellfire now, unaffected by the strongest ammunition we possessed, filled my body with terror.
What did we do now?
And where's Will? my heart echoed.
When the cacophony of active battle returned, I locked eyes with a grim, contemplative Rover.
"Go," he said.
The command knocked me off balance. "But—"
"If we can't destroy that portal, then the king has to die." A ghoulish Pan marched for him, extracting a bloody saber from his back scabbard, and Rover braced his legs for impact. "We've gotta close that bridge, Fuse. Do whatever it takes."
I stared at him as he lunged for his opponent, slicing and thrusting with renewed vigor. Aiming low to avoid skewering the demon and the human soul it harbored.
The order might have frightened me once, back before my encounter with Aimes. But I realized now that certain monsters deserved to be hunted, and that sometimes, death was a merciful punishment.
Too merciful, even.
I'd tried and failed to reason with Regulas. He'd had his chance to correct course, but he'd chosen to dig two graves this spring: one for himself, and one for his kingdom.
"Hurry, before that thing starts spitting up raws!" Rover yelled. "I'm two minutes behind you." Steel clipped steel, and he angled his head. "...Make that five."
I swallowed, scanning the battlefield—the shift in our soldiers' fighting style, the worry in their eyes—and I sprinted for the wreckage.
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I approached the portal's base with cautious steps, climbing over piles of debris and twisting through a maze of palace entrails. I kept my eyes peeled for sentries, but the bomb had crushed and buried most of the royal guard, granting me the perfect opportunity to slip through the chaos unchallenged. I only hoped Claus and his team had made it out alive—and that Will wasn't entombed in the rubble of his failure, imprisoned beneath my feet.
Granted, their mission wasn't entirely futile.
Above me, the bridge rebuilt itself like a Pan mending its own ligaments. Nothing but churning darkness peered down at me now, permitting access to the inaccessible, and I wasn't about to waste my precious window—nor the sacrifices of good men.
But as I passed another hill of concrete, the cry of groaning metal pinned me in place.
