Priceless (A Rylee Adamson Novel, Book 1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

23

A shuffle down the hall behind us was the only warning we had before a woman stepped around the corner, her hands lifted as she prepped a spell. I lunged at her, my blade catching her just in the crook of her left elbow, slicing deep down to the bone. I followed up the slice with a kick to her hip, She dropped to the floor, and I pinned her head down with my foot. Of course, it would have all been good if she’d been the only one.

“Let her go, Rylee.”

Blinking, I turned to look into Milly’s face, her eyes hard as she held a deadly spell just inches from my nose. I could see the black spiral of the death magic quivering in her hand, but even so, I had a hard time putting two and two together. O’Shea moved up beside me, a steady presence that helped me get my bearings. Of course, both Milly and I knew the spell would likely dissipate around me. But the other woman, who was nodding at Milly, didn’t know that.

The woman under my foot snorted a laugh. “You heard her. Let me go.”

I lifted my foot. “Milly . . .”

She raised her hand, black energy sparking with the movement, the threat clear. This had to be a show for the other woman, there was no other explanation.

It took everything I had to step away from the witch I’d injured. India, That was what we had to focus on.

“They’re going to let a demon possess India if we keep standing here.” My emotions finally starting to shut down. I could be cold, hard, just like I needed to be. A whimper caught my attention and peeking around the corner was a familiar pair of amber eyes.

“Milly mean,” Alex whimpered, and my heart broke a little to see my own pain reflected in his eyes.

“Stay there,” I said, not wanting him anywhere near what was about to happen.

Milly stepped up to the door and the other witch let her lead.

O’Shea lifted an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head.

My used-to-be best friend put her hand on the knob and twisted, yanking the door open. A blast of energy swirled out, and I didn’t think. I just moved, jumping across the gap and pulling Milly out of the way.

A massive crash resounded through the castle as the wall directly behind where we’d just been standing melted into a puddle of molten rock, bubbling and slithering toward us.

I yanked Milly to her feet while she glared at me, but all I could see was the child sitting in the center of a pentagram carved into the floor, her body naked except for the blood that had been poured over her.

“O’Shea!” I bolted into the room, registering the faces of the black Coven. Surprise, anger and fear mingled with a sense of evil so heavy I actually stumbled right before I reached the auburn-haired little girl, her hazel eyes wide and dilated. The smell of opium was heavy on the air, as was the scent of something akin to road tar, which I knew could be only one thing: Demons. Seeing the vacant look in India’s eyes, I understood why I couldn’t get a bead on her emotions; they’d drugged her. At least, that’s what I was hoping.

A blur of a sword and large male body charged up behind me, deflecting blows, keeping me safe as I reached for India, trying to pull her off the pentagram without actually stepping on it myself. Which would be bad, like really bad.

“Get down!” O’Shea’s warning came a split second too late. One of the black Coven members physically slammed into me and spun me out toward India, right into the pentagram.

“Two is always better than one,” he laughed, as fear spiked through me.

The last thing I saw before hitting the pentagram was Milly battling with three witches, two men and a woman, and O’Shea to one side of me, blood seeping through his white shirt. Then I hit the floor.