“I’m the wrong person to ask.” Cym watched nervously as the rim above them filled with more people. Some of them shone with a wrongness similar to Sekt’s, though none of them were as terrible as the thing that had set up shop inside generations of Blaike women. “Are you sure they can’t get through?”

“They’d be down here already if they could. They can’t touch us,” Sterling said with all the bravado of a teenage boy.

The earth underneath them began to tremble, giving lie to his words. As a single unit, the crowd above them stepped away from the ledge when the sides of the crater began to collapse. Massive boulders began to pound against Sterling’s shield, causing him to wince as more and more struck. Cym barely noticed their own predicament, instead watching horror-struck as the hole Fourteen and the guardians were in filled with tons of rock and dirt.

“Can they get out of that? Do guardians have shields as good as yours?” Cym’s voice sounded far away.

Shaken, Sterling’s voice was just as faint. “They must have. They must…”

Witches began to pour over the edges of the newly widened crater.

“They know you’re down here with us, right?” Sterling yelled at Hester, panic lacing his words.

“He’ll come back for me. He always does. He always does…” Hester rocked back and forth as she mumbled to her hands, but when spells began crashing against Sterling’s shield with a renewed frenzy, she flinched and shrank in further, hiding behind the fall of her once-pristine hair.

“What do we do?” Cym shouted over the sound of spellfire.

“Do what you did in the cemetery!”

“I can’t! You saw what happened there. The gods only know what would happen if I did it on top of our friends!” More than half of the oncoming horde was running over the rubble covering Fourteen and the guardians. In order to be effective, Cym’s attack would put his people in danger.

Were the guardians Cym’s people? They were certainly something.

He’d deal with it later.

“Then point it that way!” Sterling gestured toward the dozen or so people climbing down the walls on the other side of them.

“Can you keep up the shield if I manage an attack?”

“I doubt it. The rock fall seriously weakened me.” Sterling had begun to look sweaty and pale again. So much for him being able to do it all day.

“Then I’ll save it as a last resort.” Cym fully intended to take out the entire base if anything happened to Fourteen or Sterling. “Can you make it smaller? It could give us more time.”

Cym eyed the advancing horde and realized several horrifying creatures were mixed in among the witches clambering toward them. It looked as though everyone from the compound had called a friend and invited them to bring a pet monster along just for fun.

Sterling looked pained. “It would buy us more time, but you and I would have to get a lot closer than we are now.” The shame on his face was devastating. “I’m sorry, but I still remember how it felt the last time I got hit by your power. I’ll be useless to you if it takes me over again.”

“Oh.” Cym had forgotten for a tiny, blissful minute, the terrible burden of his gift. It had taken less than two days with Fourteen to make Cym forget that he was a monster. “Don’t be sorry, Sterling. I’m the fuck-up. This stupid power of mine… I’m sorry I can’t control it. You’re too young to have to put up with any of this, and I’m so sorry you’re stuck here with me.” Hot tears began to roll down his face.

How awful was it of Cym to want Fourteen with him right now? Aside from it meaning he hadn’t been crushed by the rockfall, Cym really wanted to burrow into him and hide from the entire stupid world.

“Oh for the gods’ sake, drop your shield so we can finish this. If I have to listen to one more sappy monologue, my dinner is going to make a second appearance.” Astin’s caustic voice cut in on Cym’s not-so-tiny mental breakdown.

Hastily Cym wiped his tears away. He was grateful for his cousin’s arrival; anger was easier territory to navigate than shame and it allowed him to put on a facsimile of confidence. He’d rather get blown into a million pieces than let that asshole see him be weak. “I’m surprised Sekt didn’t eat you after Fourteen shot you, cousin. Demons aren’t known for going soft on easy prey.” Or so he imagined. Cym didn’t know shit about demons, but he wanted to piss Astin off. The guy was a total asshole.

Fourteen had clearly managed to do some damage when he’d shot Astin earlier. Cym could see spell patches peeking out from under the sleeve on one of his cousin’s arms.

Astin ignored his jab and called out, “Sterling, you little shit, cut this out right now, and we’ll let you live. Your brother is too far gone to save. He needs to be put down for his own good.”

“His own good? What the fuck is wrong with you? And like hell you’ll let me go!” Sterling said angrily. “You forget that I know how awful you are.”

Astin sighed. “I locked you in a cupboard one time, kid.”

“For two days!”

“I got busy and forgot. I said I was sorry.”

“Forget it. I don’t care what’s inside him. He’s my brother, and you can go fuck yourself.”

Shrugging his shoulders theatrically, Astin said to the crowd around him, “You heard him. Kill them both.”

“So your orders are back to killing me? What happened to needing my body?” Cym didn’t expect an answer, he was just stalling for time. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, but not getting horribly murdered by his family for even another minute was pretty appealing.

Astin winked at Cym, making his blood boil. The fuckhead didn’t give one single shit about either of them. Cym doubted he even cared about getting benefits from Sekt for helping. Given his psycho ways, Astin was probably there just because he was told he’d get to torture someone. Hester probably adored him for it.

Hell, it wouldn’t surprise Cym if he found out Astin had been in on the whole thing from the day Cym had been first locked up. He’d always been awful when they were kids.

How many of Cym’s family members knew the whole truth? And for those who didn’t, what lies had they been told that could have convinced them to fight on the side of monsters?

The ground rumbled ominously. One look at Sterling’s face, now devoid of any color, told Cym his brother’s magic was at its limit. The next attack that came for them would be the end.

Then the world erupted around him for the second time that day.

Chapter 21Fourteen

There was a loud cracking sound, followed by a lot of screaming. Then there was nothing.

Then there was pain. Like, a metric fuckton of it.

Fourteen didn’t know how long he had been out, but he did what he always did following an unplanned unconsciousness—a full system diagnostic. His face had two abrasions, one across the temple, one on his left cheek, the first one potentially serious, the second one minor. There was also a low throbbing in his shoulder from when he’d damaged it during the fight at the warehouse.

It had been knitting together quickly and efficiently until he’d had to kill the shit out of Cym’s family members and their entourage. That combined with whatever the hell had just happened to him put his shoulder back to square one.

A pile of small to medium rocks were pinning his lower body, but neither of his legs were more than superficially damaged. He detected a bruise on his sternum in the exact area where he’d removed a plate in his armor. It wasn’t an ideal spot to leave exposed, but it was the only plate that came loose when he had the idea to see what would happen if he used his armor offensively. It had been exceptionally useful in hand-to-hand combat during his rescue of Cym.

Wait. Where was Cym?

Fuck.

Fourteen blamed his head wound for addling his mind enough to forget where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. At least he knew it would heal quickly. Minor injuries were little more than an inconvenience for him—it was the major ones involving broken bones and sucking chest wounds that slowed him down. He could work through them if he had to, but he didn’t enjoy it.

He peered into the darkness to locate Cym but couldn’t see for shit. He dialed down his attention to eyesight and focused on his hearing instead.

From the muted sounds above, it seemed as though there was still a battle going on overhead, and he needed to get to it. Cym was damaged and had nothing but his questionable brother to help him. Hopefully, Cym could recreate the godforsaken spell he’d managed in the cemetery.

Fourteen had a feeling they were going to need it tonight.