“No!” His voice was harsh. “You can’t. You know that.”
“But…” I looked up at him through the rain, desperation making me frantic. “I can’t just let them die.”
“You must. We can’t change history.”
Disappointment carved a hole in my chest. I tried to tug my arm away from him, but didn’t let go.
Because he was right. Changing history would be catastrophic. We knew that. Anyone who’d ever watched a TV show or read a book about changing the past knew that it ended poorly.
I turned back to the boat, which was nearly under now, sinking beneath the cold waves. I made myself watch, penance for my failure. I hadn’t been able to close the wall between the past and the present, and this was the result. Witnessing this. Making it happen all over again. Making those men die all over again.
Without warning, magic swelled on the air. What the heck?
The ship and its occupants were human, so it wasn’t coming from them. And the magical signature was nothing like Roarke’s. His smelled of sandalwood and tasted of wine. This felt so cold it burned my skin and smelled of smog.
“Someone is here!” I whirled around to search the shore.
Two demons stood at the far edge of the pebble beach, near the trees. The shock of seeing them broke my connection with the past, as abruptly as if it had never been. It was annoying, frankly, how easily it happened when I wasn’t trying to make it happen.
The rain halted, the storm returning to 1902, and present-day sunlight replaced the dark night. I didn’t turn to look, but I’d guess that the boat and the crew were gone as well.
In the newly-returned sunlight, I caught a look of surprise on the demon’s faces. One had the pale gray skin of what might be an ice demon species. The other was dark red. Fire demon?
“Where the hell did they come from?” Roarke asked.
Oh, this was just fabulous. First, my magic had failed. Now freaking demons were appearing out of nowhere.
Four more appeared at their sides, different species that I’d never seen before. Two with large horns, the others wiry as twigs. The horned demons held massive, curved swords that should have belonged to giants, while the skinny ones must have some kind of weaponized magic, otherwise they’d be armed, too.
One of the skinny ones wound up as if he were going to throw a baseball, then hurled a glowing green orb.
I ducked, the scent of sulphur burning my nose as it passed overhead.
“Acid blast,” Roarke said.
Cold raced over my skin. I didn’t want to get hit by one of those. They could eat through your flesh in seconds.
I glanced at Roarke briefly before calling upon my Phantom magic. It was still weird to shift around him—he’d only learned I was half-Phantom three days ago—but if I didn’t want to lose a limb to the demon’s acid blasts, it was a necessity. As a Phantom, I was faster, stronger, and most importantly, impervious to harm.
Shivery cold raced across my skin as the Phantom magic took hold, turning my limbs a transparent blue. Beside me, Roarke’s magic filled the air. The taste of wine and the smell of sandalwood were followed by a mini tornado of black mist that obscured him as he shifted.
A second later, he burst into the air, his demon form a shimmering dark gray and his wings massive. In his shifted form, he was terrifying and beautiful. Against the pale blue sky, he looked like an angel of destruction. I grinned and pulled my sword free.
I, too, could be destruction.
Roarke swooped down on two of the acid blasting demons while I charged the rest. When the red demon threw a fireball at me, I ducked instinctively, even though it couldn’t harm me in this form.
I leapt at one of the massive horned demons, not bothering to block his blow. His sword sailed through my middle, unable to make contact while I was in Phantom form. It was a creepy but handy talent. Unfortunately, I couldn’t land a blow while in Phantom form. My ghostly sword would sail right through him.
Before the demon could recover his blow, I turned corporeal long enough to slice my blade across his neck. Warm blood spurted onto the rocky beach as I landed on the other side of him.
Blazing pain flared up my arm right before I could adopt my Phantom form again.
The fire demon! My knees weakened as the arm of my leather jacket melted. I sucked in a ragged breath, trying to ignore the pain, and turned into a Phantom. Once I’d shifted, my gaze darted across the beach, searching for the demon who had landed a blow while I was in solid form.
He stood about twenty yards away, winding up with another blast, his palm glowing red hot. Behind him stood the gray demon.
“You,” the fire demon growled as he pointed at me.
Behind him, the other demon nodded.
“What the hell do you mean, me?” I demanded.
He growled again. I was going to have to be fast if I wanted to kill him without letting the fireball land while I was corporeal.
Wasn’t gonna be easy.
I raced forward, sprinting across the pebble beach. Right before I reached the fire demon, Roarke swept out of the sky and yanked him up. He swooped away, taking him out to the lake and leaving just the pale gray demon behind. I grinned. Fighting with Roarke was efficient.
As the demon raised a hand to throw his magic, I charged. When I was about ten yards away, the demon hurtled a massive icicle. It was a glittering white spear that would pierce my belly like iron. I leapt out of the way, the ice missing me by inches, and nearly lost my footing on the pebble beach. I wobbled and righted myself, then raced toward him again, reaching the ice demon before he could charge up with another blast.
Instead of striking with my sword, I leapt upon the demon, taking him to the ground. I straddled him while in Phantom form, pinning him to the rocks. Though my sword couldn’t cut while in Phantom form, I could manipulate things with my hands in my ghostly state. I thought it was because the sword was an object and didn’t have the same magic that I did. Phantom magic was weird. And scary. Just by touching, I could make people relive their worst fears, sending them straight into nightmare and pain.
“Why did he say you?” I demanded. “Why are you here?”
The demon’s face twisted as he thrashed underneath me. I didn’t know how to control my power over his fears, but his eyes rolled in his head and he shrieked. Whatever he was reliving sucked.
“I’ll let go if you tell me!” Actually, I’d kill him. But all that would do was send him back to his Underworld, a fate he likely wouldn’t mind at this point.
“You’re no Ubilaz demon,” he rasped. “But you called us here.”
My breath caught. I’d killed an Ubilaz demon four days ago by tearing out its soul, a power I hadn’t realized I possessed. Ubilaz demons were horrible beasts that attracted other demons to them.
“What does that mean?”
He shuddered and his eyes rolled again, pain twisting his face at my touch.
“Tell me!”
“Must…kill abomination.” He spat at me. It sailed right through me, but I still shuddered.
Gross. I scrubbed it off with my uninjured arm.