“You think you’re so clever,” Roanac roars at me. He looks barely human, more like a…thingthan any actualperson. “Don’t you remember? Anything you can do… so can I!”
Ah, fuck, I had forgotten about that. With my blood inside of him, Roanac has the same powers I do. It’s why he’s been able to send those psychic waves of pain through all of the fae.
Roanac brings his hands up, roaring to the sky, and more lightning cracks. Great, just great.
I grit my teeth against whatever’s coming, but I don’t think I could’ve expected this. Holes appear in the ground, big gaping black ones, and out of them crawl the most hideous monsters I’ve ever laid eyes on.
These monsters can’t possibly be real. They defy comprehension. I can’t even properly describe them. They look like the sort of creatures you read about in books, not the supernatural creatures that I know to actually exist. Claws, horrible decaying bodies that defy logic and physics, tentacles and glowing evil eyes, nasty teeth, mouths where there should be none.
They’re the monsters out of my worst nightmares, out of everyone’s worst nightmares, and that’s when it hits me: of course, that’s exactly what they are.
Roanac’s ability is the same as mine. He can now use his powerful glamour ability to not just give the impression of altered reality, but to actually, well, alter reality. And so he’s taking the monsters that we fear and he’s making them actual creatures that are real in this world.
Fuck. That’s going to make this so much harder. Unless, well, I presume that whatever reality he’s created will be undone if he dies. That means it’s become that much more important that we defeat him.
From the three different armies I can hear ripples of confusion and frustration, maybe even a little fear. I project my thoughts out to the fae. They have to remain strong. Nothing that Roanac’s doing is going to defeat us.
Okay. I just have to figure out how to deal with Roanac now that he can use the same power that I can.
The nightmare monsters are attacking our armies with a horrible viciousness, and the sight of all the blood has me nauseated. These are clearly more powerful than just the shades, and have a sadism the shades, who are pretty much mindless drones, lack. It’s the latter that’s so disturbing. An enemy is an enemy, full stop, but an enemy that enjoys hurting you and is looking forward to your fear is far worse.
I’ve got to think of something! I conjure up some traps for the monsters to fall into, full of spikes at the bottom that pierce them through and hold them in place so that the others can kill them. But not all of the monsters fall for it and Roanac catches on quickly.
I look over at Willow and her men. They’re fighting amazingly well as a team, and it’s clear they’ve had to do so before, and trained for this kind of thing. They all have their own fighting style. Sol, I notice, seems to be favoring projectiles, throwing daggers that he can then retrieve from bodies and hurl at the next shade or monster. He acts as the front line fighting, taking out some enemies before Malcom or Jerrett rush in to attack hand-to-hand.
“Kiara, look out!” North yells, and a monster streaks right toward me.
I should’ve known Roanac would want to take me out right away. I’m his biggest threat.
North launches himself at the monster, catching it right in the chest, and they go sprawling.Take over!I tell Raven mentally. I need North available. I have a plan.
Raven transforms and launches himself at the monster instead, his gargoyle teeth tearing right into its throat. Awful black blood spurts out everywhere, and I gag at the stench.
North backs off, and I telepathically tell him,Get the other shifters!
This telepathy is coming in handy. Now Roanac won’t be able to hear our plans and counteract them.
North takes off, dodging through the shades and the monsters to get to the shifters. They’re working according to packs, acting in small groups that will dogpile—no pun intended—on an enemy so that the enemy’s overwhelmed. It reminds me of those nature shows where a pack of wolves would all take down a massive elk, and I shiver. I’m glad that these guys are on our side. There’s something kind of majestic about it.
Everyone!I project out to the fae.Focus on Roanac. Get his back to one of those stone pillars and keep him distracted.
If I can get his back to a wall, literally, then there won’t be anywhere for him to run. I look over at Willow, and jerk my head toward Roanac. She nods and directs her three men.
The fae immediately switch tactics from concentrating on defeating the army to throwing everything at Roanac. Raven and Cain keep me protected as I focus on delivering instructions to the fae. It’s not so much that I’m even giving verbal orders at this point as it is I’m imagining in my head where I want them to go and how I want them to move, and the fae can all see that image that I’m projecting into their minds, so they move accordingly, only a split-second after I think it.
It’s kind of amazing, actually.
Roanac roars in anger and frustration and continues to throw magic at the fae. The vampires, thank fuck, have figured out that they’re better able to handle the nightmares that Roanac’s conjured than the fae themselves are, and are taking on the task of killing those creatures while the fae focus on Roanac.
I give North a specific order.Get the shifters to pin him down!
Roanac’s back is now facing one of the tall stone pillars that dot the island, and there’s nowhere for him to turn or run to when this goes south for him, which is what’s about to happen.
The shifters all transform into their wolf forms and leap on him, digging their teeth into him. I can’t see any blood, but the force of their bites and their combined weight is enough to send him crashing to the ground. The fae have done their job—they’ve distracted him.
I look at Willow and jerk my head again.
Willow looks at Sol, and Sol does just what I was hoping he would do.