Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Series #3)

As they climbed higher above the treetops, one of the machine-gun turrets locked onto the pair. His heart skipped a beat, and the gun unleashed a hail of bullets.

They grazed his back, piercing his flesh. He was old enough that death shouldn’t scare him, but the thought of obliteration was still terrifying. Maybe what he feared most was what he’d have to face when he died—the whispers of those he’d slaughtered throughout the centuries.

Up into the night sky—Fiona’s night sky—wind rushed over his skin, and the sound of gunfire faded. Please, gods, don’t let them murder Fiona.

As he wrapped his arm tighter around Munroe, he could feel her heart beating beneath her ribs, could smell the jasmine in her hair. She could amuse him, at the very least. Tightening his grip around her, he savored the frantic thrum of her pulse, and was struck by the certainty that if he could enjoy his time on earth, he wouldn’t have to live in terror.





54





Tobias





He was standing between Fiona and the two remaining Guardians when the bullets rang out. All around them, humans transformed into wolves, desperate to flee. He watched in horror as a bullet pierced an old woman’s leg and she crumpled to the ground.

The fires burned within him. His body vibrating with heat, he threw back his head, calling forth the flames to blast the armored vehicles. He could feel Fiona’s presence at his side, stealthy and cool. She sucked in a deep breath, exhaling a furious storm that knocked the machine-guns off target.

He glanced at the Picaroons, who raised their arms, chanting a shielding spell. As they spoke, a shimmering dome appeared, rippling like a wake in a pond. Tobias let the fires recede, watching as Purgator soldiers fell from their burning vehicles.

The bell clanged out across the common—their signal to meet at the belfry.

The green-eyed one turned to them, his jaw clenched. “You need to get out of here. Get everyone out. There are more Purgators coming, and this shield won’t hold forever.”

A driving gale whipped Fiona’s hair into her face. “We’re going to Maremount, and you’re coming with us. The Throcknell army is in disarray, and they’ll be locked out of the city.”

The dark-skinned Picaroon nodded. “I’m going with my Dogtown family.”

The green-eyed Picaroon grimaced. “Maremount?”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go,” said Fiona. “And you obviously can’t stay here.”

Something clouded the sea demon’s eyes, and Tobias felt a flicker of sympathy.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Fiona and the Picaroons took off, darting through the rocky grasses. Before he left, Tobias shot a quick glance up to the sky, watching as Rawhed shot into the darkness. He’d had every chance to kill him just moments ago.

“Tobias!” Fiona shouted, and he broke into a sprint, powering up the hill to the belfry.

An enormous crowd had gathered, swarming around the meeting point. Estelle was screaming at everyone to hurry up, and Oswald stood on her throne, gripping the crumpled spell. Just below him stood Celia, Alan, and Mariana.

As the werewolves poured in, the shield began to fade.

“Oswald!” shouted Estelle. “Read the spell!”

Oswald launched into the Angelic spell, calling it out in a clear and loud tone. As he spoke, bullets began to penetrate the crowd. When Tobias heard the words “King Balthazar,” he felt a mixture of relief and dread.

Oswald was taking them to the King. Tobias closed his eyes, jumping at the lurch in his chest. When he opened them again, he stood with the same crowd of werewolves. Only now, they were just outside the castle gates.

They stood in Lullaby Square, and the only sounds were the whimpers of the injured.

He looked around at the crooked timber-frame buildings and the fortress that towered over the cobbled square in the darkness. It felt surreal being here, a bizarre sense of trespassing in his own home.

Panicked shouts echoed through the square. Already, werewolves laid into the guards at the castle gates. Estelle stood atop the Lilitu Fountain, joining hands with three other women to raise the veil around Maremount.

The King’s army wouldn’t be here to protect their sovereign.

Tobias felt a cool hand on his arm, and he turned to see Fiona. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and nestling into his neck. His pulse raced, and he ran a hand through her hair.

“Did you swallow it?” she asked. “The relic?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.” He glanced over to the open portcullis. Thomas was leading the swarming werewolves inside. And somewhere among them, a Tatter hellbent on vengeance and two lethal Picaroons. The King didn’t stand a chance.

She pulled away, frowning. “What are you waiting for?”

He glanced down at the sad fragment of bone—this broken ivory nub that had once belonged to a goddess. They stood here, beneath the Lilitu Fountain, where Eden’s broken body had swung. Where Fiona had nearly lost her life to Jack’s brutal instinct of self-preservation.