Page 169 of Devoted

And I was ready to melt any Ashbound into piles of smoldering bone.

All our boxes checked.

Until things went to shit, in which case we’d regroup, like we always did.

A dark chill shivered over my skin, rubber-soled boots grinding against granite as I shifted position on the stone column, my demon recoiling from the runes covering every inch of these ruins. Since none of us could read the language, I’d just have to tolerate the prickling discomfort.

We waited patiently while our enemies tied up the boats, only a handful of guards disembarking, milling around the edge of the water.

Like they were waiting.

Then guards materialized onto the shoreline in neat, organized rows. Fifty. A hundred. More. The waterline clogging up with lines of black-uniformed forces until the numbers began to swing the enemies’ way.

“Too many for a simple retrieval mission,” Emberline murmured. “And what the fuck is in those covered boats?”

Gabriel climbed up beside us, crouching low. “Two hundred so far, at least,” he pointed out needlessly. “Over twice what we anticipated. Giovanni is expecting a trap and hoping to overwhelm us through sheer numbers.”

“More coming.” Emberline’s weight fell back on her heels, breath whistling between her teeth.

The next wave came all at once, as if they’d been transported here by a magic far more powerful than any vampires. These opponents moved wrong, their skin fractured with the familiar orange glow of fire leaking from every crack and crevice in their too-smooth skin.

Ashbound.

Fifty of them, at least, rushing past the guards, some of whom subtly moved aside to give them room.

“You wiped out the Ashbound already on the island,” Gabriel said in a low, careful voice. “There were only eight. And now…” My brother’s eyes flicked to me.

“Doesn’t matter. I can handle them.” I rolled my shoulders, heat kindling like a forge low in my belly. “Piece of cake.”

Three figures materialized in front of the lines of black-uniformed guards, the first wearing a long brown robe barely covering his sandals, soft hands hidden inside his sleeves as he stared up at the ruins of the abbey with the satisfaction of a male who believed he was close to winning.

“Fucking asshole,” Emberline hissed. “I swear, why doesn’t he just give up the act?”

The second was the cloaked mage we’d seen last night, his bearded face half visible as he took his time scanning the tumbled piles of stone, pausing on the runes etched over everything, the clear path leading deeper into the abbey.

That’s right.

You know it’s a trap, but you sense the presence of magic, don’t you?

And you’re only useful so long as you make Giovanni happy.

The third figure… was so heavily cloaked I couldn’t get a feel for his form or see his face, but he moved hesitantly, as though unsure of his purpose. Tall enough he could be Blackwood, but… Cesare was in Rome.

We had confirmation on that.

And there was no throb of power in my belly, no blood hierarchy forcing me to obey.

An apprentice to the mage, I decided, watching him toil awkwardly up the shoreline over the rocks. Backup or reinforcements to access the Basin’s magic.

The mage threw back his hood and turned in a slow circle, gold rings glinting on his hands as he raised them above his head, every guard falling silent as he spun up a summoning spell. When he stopped, his face was aimed directly at the rectory entrance tucked into the back of the ruins, hidden beneath a thicket of poisoned vines.

Emilia’s enchanted decoy had passed the first test.

The mage said something to Giovanni, gesturing, then the entire group threaded through the ruins. The majority of the soldiers spread out to form a perimeter, a select few funneling into the abbey itself, their tight formations forced into a single-file line, Ashbound flitting in and out between the stones.

“Positions,” Gabriel said quietly, and vanished.

We let them get deep into the maze—all the way inside before any of us moved.