Bound in Blood (Broken Bloodlines Book 3)
Bound in Blood: Chapter 52

40 MINUTES BEFORE THE LIGHT GOES OUT

Iwatch in awe as they stride purposefully toward us, three witches with flaming-red hair glinting in the moonlight, all dressed in emerald-green cloaks. They look like the cavalry from a really badass superhero movie.

“Nazeel,” Enora cries, and her face, still aged and weathered, brightens with relief.

“We are here, dearest friend,” Nazeel says, stepping in front of the other two. “We felt the tear in the veil. Tell us what must be done.”

“A wraith has opened it. He imbibes Giorgios Drakos with powers, and we must return him to the netherworld before the veil falls completely.”

One of Nazeel’s sisters blanches, but it is the other who speaks. “The spell of the white witch?”

Enora nods.

“Nazeel, it is too dangerous,” the sister says. “You must summon Lucifer himself to return a wraith to the netherworld.”

Lucifer? As in the devil? This suddenly feels like a terrible idea.

“It is what must be done, Ameena,” Nazeel says. “We cannot allow the veil to fall.”

My head is spinning. The world is about to literally descend into hell. Alexandros and the boys aren’t here. I’m scared and freaked out, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.

A warm hand slips into mine. “We got this, girl,” Cadence says.

I roll back my shoulders and steel my spine. “Can I help with the spell?”

Nazeel shakes her head. “It is a spell that can only be performed by a descendant of the white witch. One that can channel earth magic. Enora and I have such lineage and power, and we will do all that is necessary.”

Ameena nods toward the battlefield. “Zendaya and I will help hold back the hordes. Are you good with incantations, child?” she directs the question to Cadence, who nods her agreement.

“So am I,” I insist.

Anikêtos stops me short. You will stay here, Ophelia.

“You are too valuable to risk, Ophelia,” Nazeel says.

I open my mouth to protest, but Nazeel grabs my hand and squeezes tightly. “Ophelia, your humility and your compassion for others is noble, but not when it will risk your life. Look around you. You see all of these people fighting?”

I do as she asks, noting the fallen and those still valiantly battling, and force myself not to feel the crushing pain of those we’ve lost.

“They do not fight for you, Ophelia, but for everything you represent. The future of all our species. They fight for the light. And if you recklessly endanger yourself because you believe you are not worthy of their sacrifice, then they do all of this in vain.”

What Nazeel says is true, and humbling, but I’m stopped from having to reply by Ameena. “Do you know the spell?” she asks her sister.

Nazeel nods. “Both Enora and I do.”

“I’ll keep fending off the hordes from here, then, alongside Ani and Elpis,” I say.

Ameena and Zendaya glance up for the first time, then immediately bow their heads in respect of the dragons looming over us. Without any further words, they make their way to the middle of the quad, where Zendaya immediately beheads a warlock. Cadence gives me a quick look that says be careful before she darts off too.

Nazeel takes off her robe and lays it on the ground, then pulls a gold pentagram from around her neck and places it on the cloak. “Let us get to work.”

She and Enora kneel beside each other, and I go back to directing my energy toward slowing the advancing line of shadows.

Enora’s voice melds with Nazeel’s over ancient words I don’t understand, and the air fills with their energy.

They chant.

The shadows roar a battle cry. My heart pounds, but I keep channeling my magic into destroying them over and over again.

Thunder rolls and lightning splits the sky in two.

Nazeel and Enora cling to each other.

The shadows scream now.

It’s working. The spell is working.

Hope floods my chest.

Anikêtos torches the entire line with Dragonfyre, and they scatter to fragments.

A piercing shriek permeates the night.

The shadows reform.

No! What’s happening? The spell was working.

Darkness falls over the quad like a hand reaching out to cover the moon. The air is filled with the bitter taste of despair and hatred.

Another shriek, loud and terrifying.

And then another scream, but this time it’s from Enora. Her face twists with terror as her hair is pulled from her scalp by an invisible force, her skin being peeled from her skull like someone has doused her in acid. Nazeel continues to clasp her friend’s hand and goes on chanting the ancient words.

It grows darker, and the sense of anguish is crushing, bearing down on us like the weight of the mountain behind us.

The wraith is here.

Enora takes her last breath and falls.

Nazeel goes on chanting, but there are tears running down her face, and the pentagram has melted into liquid gold.

The ground rumbles. A crashing sound comes from somewhere, followed by the most pained cry I have ever heard another creature make in my life. An unholy, unnatural sound. A roar and a scream and a wail all bound up in a cacophony of pain. It is Anikêtos.

Nazeel stops chanting and slumps to the ground.

The battle on the quad rages on, the horde advancing without Ani’s and Elpis’s fire to hold them back.

I spin around, and the sight that meets me drops me to my knees. I thought dragons were indestructible, but Elpis lies on her side, her huge frame having crushed the whole west wing of Zeus Hall.

“Ani, what happened to her?”

The wraith. I have never encountered one so powerful.

Alexandros’s words come back to me—a wraith is the only creature that can kill a dragon.

My heart gallops erratically. The dark shadows grow closer, as do the remaining vampires and warlocks from Giorgios’s army. “Will she be okay? What can I do?”

You must heal her, Ophelia.

I start to move in her direction, but Nazeel’s hand grips my ankle. “If you heal a dragon, Ophelia, it will deplete your own healing energy too much. We cannot take such a risk.”

“I c-can’t let her die.”

Nazeel stares at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “You must.”

I shake my head. “No way.”

You swore me an oath, Ophelia Hart. Ani’s booming voice vibrates through my bones. I am calling in my debt.

Nazeel makes another attempt to convince me. “Alexandros would tell you to let her die, child.”

“And Alexandros knows I would tell him to go to hell.” I look up at Ani. Hold them back while I heal her.

I stand beside Elpis’s head, and I can just reach the tip of her nose. I’ve got you, Elpis. I won’t let you die.

It will deplete your power, child. Her voice is weak inside my head.

Yeah, but it won’t kill me, right? And whatever doesn’t kill you … I expect her to finish the adage for me, and when she doesn’t, it occurs to me that dragons who’ve lived in another realm for over a thousand years probably aren’t up to date on the latest human sayings.

With my arms outstretched as far as possible, I rest both my palms flat on her snout and close my eyes, blocking out the noise around us, confident Anikêtos will protect us both while I heal her. Channeling my earth line, I pull energy from as deep as I can burrow—from the mountain behind us, the trees in the surrounding forest, and the core of the earth itself. Every drop of healing energy I can muster, I feed into the magnificent creature before me. And I keep going until my fingers are numb and my knees are buckling and there is nothing left for me to give. I have no idea how much time has passed when I stagger back and fall flat on my ass. I blink up at her and hope I gave enough.

Did it work, Ani? Please, please tell me it worked.

It worked, Dragon Healer. And I am now forever in your debt.

A strangled cry comes from behind me, and I scramble to my feet just in time to come face-to-face with a vampire wielding a dagger. Anikêtos scorches him to ash.

“That was close.” I suck in a breath, then drop to my knees as pain burns along my side. When I press my hand to my ribs, I replace them sticky.

I know what I’ll see when I move my hand, but I do it anyway. My fingers are stained red with my blood.

“Looks like he got a little closer than we thought, huh?” I force out a laugh as my head spins.

“Between us, we should have enough energy to at least stem the flow.” Nazeel crawls up beside me, the deep wound in her thigh weeping with her own blood.

“Who did that?”

“One of the undead. It will be fine. My soldiers took care of him.”

I glance behind her to see four heavily armored—and heavily armed—soldiers battling a group of warlocks. “When did they get here?”

“A few moments ago. Kameen sent them to bring me back, but they have too much honor to walk away from a battle.” She takes my hand, places it over my wound, and rests hers on top. “Let us patch this up the best we can, shall we?”

I nod, grateful to her. Grateful she is alive and hopelessly anguished that Enora didn’t make it.