“Don’t you dare hurt my students,” Professor Briggs said.

  He threw his walking stick at the Demon Prince. Chutka batted it away. His attention was distracted only for a split second, but it was long enough. Vicken darted forward with his vampire speed and sunk his teeth into the Demon Prince’s huge shoulder. Chutka let out a roar of rage and slapped the vampire away.

  Vicken flew into one of the walls. He hit it so hard massive bricks toppled from the top of the wall. When the vampire fell to the ground, the bricks piled on top of him.

  “Vicken!” I shouted.

  Chutka lunged toward the vampire. It was then that I saw the reason he had been hanging at the back of the long room. His chest had originally been pale and smooth except for the scar where he had taken pieces of his own heart in an attempt to open the gate; but now that smoothness had been eaten away by pockets of sunken, pitted holes. The holes originated over his heart.

  Their pattern was familiar. I realized with a start that it was because the pockets and raised ridges were an exact replica of the moon. Somehow, the sphere that revealed the truth of the mythics had also marked itself on the Demon Prince’s body. It was as though even the moon wanted to remind Chutka that he didn’t belong in our realm.

  “Stop the dragons!” Chutka commanded.

  The demons leaped into action, but it was too late. The little sylph dragons flapped their wings and lifted Dara well past the reach of the baying, yowling creatures. I could only hope as they carried her through the hole in the doorway that we weren’t too late.

  Green fire spilled from between the Demon Prince’s needle-like teeth and onto the floor. It snaked through the bricks towards Vicken. Vampires had no immunity to the fire. Vicken would burn to death where he lay.

  The professor stood in Chutka’s path. Hunched over with one hand clutching his bleeding chest and the other a scarred mess from battling the Demon Prince’s subordinate, the warlock looked small and pathetic compared to the towering, massive, hooved prince. Yet when Briggs straightened, the haughtiness in his eyes and the anger on his face made him appear ten times bigger than Chutka.

  “Don’t you dare hurt him!” Professor Briggs growled.

  “You can’t stop me,” Chutka replied.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Briggs said.

  The professor began to chant. Though I didn’t know the words, I recognized them immediately. But instead of setting a shield around Vicken, Briggs enveloped himself and the Demon Prince. The green flames that surrounded Chutka surged past the professor’s feet, but they couldn’t break the barrier of the shield. Trapped, the green flames doubled and raced up the professor’s dark robes. His face twisted in pain, but he continued to chant.

  “No!” I shouted.

  “You’ll destroy yourself to save him,” Chutka said with a derisive laugh. “But the shield won’t hold when your bones are burning. I’ll kill them all!”

  “Leave him alone!” I shouted.

  Demons barred my path. Their gleaming teeth and reaching claws would shred me to pieces if their flames didn’t overwhelm me first. As it was, I had to concentrate to remind myself that the flames at my feet had no power over me. If I gave in to the fear, I would lose the battle.

  My head jerked up. That was the key. That was how I could stop him.

  “Chutka, you already lost.”

  The Demon Prince threw me a scornful look. “Your beloved professor is dying. You’re the one who lost.”

  I shook my head. “Your heart is damaged; the Demon Knight, the Darkest Warlock, and the Wiccan Enforcer are gone. That must have hurt your pride a bit, not to mention the fact that your hold on my world is slipping.” I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “This is the end of everything you started, Chutka. You’ve failed.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re wrong.”

  But I heard it in his words, the tiny slip, the smallest hint of a weakness. It was fear, and fear was something I could control.

  I held up my hands and pushed at Chutka. I might have had no shot before, but my blood flowed through the Demon Prince. A part of him, albeit a small one, was werewolf, and I was the Alpha.

  “You lost,” I said. I pushed the thought at him with all my might. One side of me heard Professor Briggs cry out in pain he could no longer stifle. The fire was taking over. I didn’t have much time. “You set out to take over my world and you failed. You will never, ever succeed.”

  I glanced down at the demons surrounding me. Channeling my Alpha strength, I lowered a hand to the demons. “Don’t touch me,” I commanded.

  The demons backed away, their expressions confused as they looked from their prince back to me, but they lowered their claws. I stepped through the fire. It took all of my strength to keep the pain at bay while pushing at Chutka. If I lost concentration on either front, my feet would burn the way my palm had done, and the Demon Prince would destroy Briggs and Vicken without mercy. My hands shook with the effort as I took careful steps through the demon horde.

  “You lost, Chutka. You’re done.”

  “You’re wrong,” the Demon Prince protested. But his voice was weak. His clawed hands opened and closed in uncertainty. Though the fire roared around him, he no longer seemed in control of it.

  Keeping up the intensity of the push was taking its toll on me and not working fast enough. I switched tactics. I grabbed the memory I wanted and shoved it at Chutka. The memory became our shared reality. I tailored it carefully to avoid giving the Demon Prince any other loved ones he could torment. The darkness swept over me with the memory.

  There was a split second between laughter and the sound of the car striking the cement bridge barrier. The car pivoted upward and over the railing. The force of the airbags deploying along with the crash of the car into the water struck so hard I blacked out. I came to at the sensation of icy water flowing past my knees. It took all of my strength to push the door open and force my way out.

  The water was so cold it stole my breath and made my muscles seize. Ice floes battered against me. I could barely make out the hood of the car against the dark water. I tried to swim for the shore, but my arms stopped responding to my commands in the icy liquid and my paddling was no longer enough to keep me afloat. I tried to hold onto the car, but my frozen fingers couldn’t find a purchase. Exhaustion stole through my sluggish mind. I knew in that moment that I was going to drowned.

  Hopelessness swarmed through my mind as black dots danced in my vision. My head sank beneath the water.

  My shoes touched the bottom of the river. My body gave a jerk of protest at the air I wasn’t able to draw in. Panic filled me, but despite my flailing arms, I couldn’t force my way up. My eyes closed against my will and my arms hung suspended in the water. The last bubble of air escaped from my mouth. Darkness filled my mind.

  My head jerked up at the realization that I was on my knees in the middle of the demon-filled building. Professor Briggs somehow still kept the shield barrier up despite the fire eating at him. Chutka the Shambler towered over the professor trapped in the shield as well, but in the place of the Demon Prince’s usual hungry, merciless expression I read loss and hopelessness. Something glimmered in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat at the realization that I was seeing true fear. The memory had worked.

  I grasped onto it with all of my might. I pushed as I shouted, “The fire will devour you, Chutka. The pain is real. It’s hungry. It wants you. It will destroy you.”

  Chutka blinked, then turned his head to look at me. The green flames in the depths of the Demon Prince’s gaze flickered and then wavered between the flames and the gold of a werewolf’s reflective irises. When his eyes met mine, they widened. His nostrils flared, and the fire around him turned from Briggs and raced up his hooves and massive legs to the darkness that shrouded him.

  The Demon Prince let out a howl of such pain the demons that filled the room yelped and cowered away from him. When another yell tore from Chutka, the demons scurried from the room in droves. Their fires faded away and left me kneeling in the darkness lit only by the Demon Prince’s flame.

  “No!” Chutka yelled.

  Finding mortal weakness in the Demon Prince’s flesh, the flames devoured everything in their path. Chutka ducked and twisted, but he couldn’t evade the fire that came from himself. The green flames multiplied with the fuel of his fear until they were so bright I had to shield my gaze with my hand. His shouts rose into shrieks and then stopped entirely. He became a roaring pillar that battered me with its heat. A single pinnacle of white light glowed where the moonstone had taken up residence in his heart. The green and white light warred until every inch of the room was lit up. Then, with a hissing pop, the light vanished completely.

  I rose shakily to my feet, but I couldn’t see anything even with my werewolf eyesight. Silence filled the air, but it was thick and muffled as though the entire building had been filled with cotton. A sulfurous, burned-flesh smell hung heavy in the room. I had no sense of direction and no way of knowing if I was about to be attacked by Chutka’s demons. A moan sounded in the darkness. I couldn’t tell in the strange silence if it came from Vicken, Professor Briggs, or Chutka the Shambler. With tense muscles and gritted teeth, I made my way toward it.

  My fingers brushed rubble. I fell to my knees and scrambled at the massive bricks. Something stirred beneath them.

  “Hang on,” I said, hoping Vicken could hear me. “I’ll get you out.”

  I reached for a brick and pulled. Something grabbed my hand. I jerked back in surprise.

  “Finn?” came Vicken’s weak voice.

  I grabbed his hand. “It’s me. Hold on.”

  I shoved my shoulder against the top brick. It fell with a muted thud to the side. Straining, I shoved two more away. Reaching down, I searched for Vicken in the darkness. My hand brushed the cloth of his shirt. One hand grabbed mine, then another.

  “I’m going to pull,” I told him.

  “Do it,” he replied, his voice tight.

  I channeled the weak remains of my werewolf strength that had been sapped in my mental assault against Chutka and pulled backwards. Vicken struggled with me. Small gasps of pain sounded from the vampire, but he didn’t let go. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I felt as though at any moment a horde of angry demons was about to attack me. I kept working until, inch by inch, we freed Vicken from the rubble.

  “Help me stand,” my friend said.

  I could smell blood. I didn’t know if it was coming from him or if it was from him biting me. I ducked under his arm and eased him carefully to his feet. A slight intake of breath was the only the sign he gave of his pain. I felt him waver when I stepped back. Without a word, I pulled his arm over my shoulder again. We stood side by side staring into the impenetrable darkness.

  “Where’s Briggs?” Vicken asked. “Is Chutka still out there?”

  “I don’t know,” I said in answer to both questions. “I think—”

  I stopped speaking at the sight of a light in the darkness. It was faint and blue, barely bright enough to penetrate the depths.

  “What is that?” Vicken whispered.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied. “I’ll go check it out.”

  I stepped away from him with the intention of leaving him there in case the light signified more danger, but Vicken grabbed my shoulder.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Step by careful step, we cleared the rubble of the bricks and made our way toward the faint blue light. When we drew closer, I watched the blue separate into three lines. After a few more steps, my werewolf eyesight made out scrolled letters.

  Trace Nathaniel Briggs.

  “No,” I said before I realized I had even spoken.

  “What is it?” Vicken asked.

  One more step was all it took to change my fears into reality.

  Alden knelt next to a motionless form. His head was bowed and tears showed on his cheeks. The name that glowed on his arm lit up Professor Briggs’ pale face. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows were pulled together as though he was in intense pain. The scar down his cheek appeared harsh in the faint light.

  I lowered slowly to the ground on Briggs’ other side. Vicken used my shoulder to help ease himself down next to me.

  Briggs’ labored breathing came harshly to my ears. I couldn’t see his legs or arms in the darkness, but I knew by the charred smell that the demon fire had taken a lethal toll.

  “Is he…,” Vicken began.

  Alden shook his head. “Not yet,” the Grim said quietly. He wiped his eyes and looked at me. “But your uncle….”

  Pain overwhelmed my heart. I couldn’t stop the tears that overflowed my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “Did he…did he suffer?” I asked past the knot that had tightened in my throat.

  “Not in the end,” Alden replied. “I stopped it.” He sniffed, then said, “Your mother was waiting for him. She said she was proud of him. He couldn’t stop smiling.”

  I nodded and lowered my gaze to the professor. Hundreds of moments we had shared together in my short time at Haunted High flooded my mind. His hatred, his indifference, his kindness, and eventually, his friendship had shaped my ability to cope with being a werewolf. The thought of losing him was nearly unbearable. Yet, after all he had gone through, he deserved to be free.

  Professor Briggs’ eyes opened. He looked past us to a place in the darkness.

  “Zanie?”

  His voice was a croak of both pain and wonder. A smile touched his lips. The tears that trailed down his scarred cheek fell to the ground with little, muffled patters.

  “She’s here,” Alden said, following the professor’s gaze.

  I looked into the darkness with the hope of seeing the ghost who had helped us, but there was nothing. I lifted a trembling hand to my face and wiped my tears.

  “P-please take care of him, Mezania,” I said in a voice that refused to be steady.

  Vicken’s hand tightened on my shoulder and I heard the vampire choke back a sob. “Yes,” he said. “Take care of him.”

  Professor Briggs’ gaze sharpened and for a brief moment, his eyes shifted from the darkness to us.

  “My boys,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

  He held out a burned hand. Vicken and I both took it.

  “We’re here,” I told him.

  He gave us a warm smile. “You did good.”

  I sniffed. “But we couldn’t save you.”

  A single tear followed the others down his cheek. “I made my choice.”

  I took a shuddering breath. “But what will we do without you?”

  The professor’s brow furrowed. “Create more trouble, I suppose.” He chuckled and then winced at the pain. His eyes closed.

  I tightened my grip on his hand and closed my eyes against more tears. I wished I could share his pain the way Dara was able to. I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the Academy without the professor. It would feel empty and strange without his presence.

  “Finn?”

  I opened my eyes and met the professor’s gaze once more. He gave me a knowing smile. “You don’t stink.” His eyes shifted to Vicken. “Neither of you do. You’re good boys. Live….” His voice caught and he winced before he concluded, “Live good lives.”

  “We will,” Vicken said, his voice broken.

  “We will,” I echoed.

  Professor Briggs’ gaze clouded. He looked past me to the darkness again. “I’m coming, Zanie,” he whispered. “I’m finally coming home.”

  He sighed. The breath that rattled in his throat left to never return. The professor’s head lolled gently on the floor. Alden put a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. As we watched, the pair brightened with a brilliant blue glow, and then Alden disappeared, leaving us in darkness once more.

  It took Vicken and I several minutes to collect ourselves. We leaned against each other there on the stone floor with the professor’s broken body until scratching sounds in the darkness brought us to the present.

  “We need to go,” Vicken said.

  “How do we know which way?” I asked.

  As if in answer, another light appeared. This one was purple-hued and further away, but it moved back and forth as if searching for something.

  A slight, pained smile touched my mouth when I recognized what it was.

  “Sparrow,” I called thickly.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The light turned and sped straight toward us. As soon as Sparrow reached me, she darted around me from top to bottom as though searching for injury. On finding only minor wounds, the dragon landed on my shoulder and pushed her head gently against my face.

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” I forced out past my tight throat. “Do you know where the gate is?”

  The dragon leaped from my shoulder and flew in front of me. I knelt to gather the professor’s body in my arms. With Vicken leaning against my shoulder for support, I made my way carefully after Sparrow. She flew on ahead and then retreated back to us, covering the distance at least a dozen times before we were ready to move on. Our progress was slow in the darkness, but with the dragon’s light, at least it was a bit easier. The scratching sound in the distance stayed at bay, but my instincts warned that if we didn’t get out of there soon, we would be prey to whatever watched us from the deep shadows.

  More lights heralded the dragons waiting near Dara’s unconscious form. They had carried her to a haze and waited around her body in a protective circle. As we drew closer, the haze behind them solidified to form an iridescent wall. A jagged line down the middle showed where the crack had been, but it was sealed tight. Brack’s warning that they wouldn’t be able to open it again surfaced in my mind.

  I laid the professor’s body carefully on the floor and then knelt by Dara. The dragons parted to let me close to her. Their small forms crowded anxiously around me.

  “Thank you,” I told them.

  I touched Dara’s cheek gently. She didn’t respond.

  “Is she alright?” Vicken asked.

  I glanced back at where the vampire leaned against the haze wall. With the light of the other dragons, I could see the blood that streaked the side of his face and the dull sheen to his eyes. He looked as though he was barely standing.

 

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