Page 171 of Devoted

Coated in fire, I wrapped my hand around one of those spindly legs and yanked, joints snapping like sticks. The fucker screeched, then I whipped it around and slammed it against the nearest rock. That hardened shell didn’t so much as crack, but the foul beast limped away, dragging one broken leg.

More of them boiled up from the dock, hundreds and hundreds, shiny and segmented and so fucking fast—too fast for the priests, too fast for Gabriel and Emberline.

Too fast for even my fire.

And still, I hit them with blast after blast, trying to slow them down, to melt the stone around them, to… something. But the fire just slid off those gleaming exoskeletons like water, the spiders turning toward me in a swarm of black.

“Dante… watch out!” Emberline’s scream echoed across the ruins, and I poured more and more fire over the Drax until they looked like they were swimming upstream in a river of lava.

Die, little motherfuckers, die.

“I see them,” I muttered. “Where the fuck are you, Nico?”

Then one was right there.

Sharpened mandibles sliced through my fire, deep into my shin. A long, relentless drawing sensation filled me as my soul started leaching out of my body. Inside me, the ifrit roared, realizing, perhaps for the first time in his long existence, that he wasn’t as indestructible as he’d imagined.

The air changed—the tang of ozone stinging my nose, the hair on my body rising as up in the belltower, Nico’s form expanded and expanded, filling the turret with something monstrous, magnificent, and utterly terrifying. Talons gleamed at the ends of his fingers as he raised his hands, black-as-night eyes peered out over the fighting, and a long, majestic cape blew out behind him as if lifted by an invisible wind, the ends tattered and torn.

He was fucking awe-inspiring, and if he didn’t kill these little fuckers before they sucked my soul out, I was going to kick his ass in the afterlife.

Shadows spun out from him, undulating ribbons of black that danced across the air, stretching out over my head, across the ruins, covering the entire island. The Drax paused, bobbing up and down on their legs, and then they fled, skittering in all directions, away from that river of darkness.

I tucked into a ball when those shadows settled over us, shivering as that deathly shroud touched my skin, my fire dampening as if I’d been doused in ice water. All around me, the Drax were simply… unmade. They collapsed inward, shriveling down and down… into nothing. Nothing but a smear of slime and the reek of rot dissipating on the night air.

Hundreds of spiders. Less than ten seconds.

Gone.

The only thing left was the handful of Ashbound that fell beneath my fire, weaker now than the magic should be, but I didn’t let myself think about what happened when my flames ran out. The only ones left standing were the Draconi soldiers, Emilia’s priests, and Gabriel and Emberline.

And Nico—standing like a god, looking down over us like Death himself.

I spooled my remaining flames back into my body, intending to conserve them for whatever was coming. Because this wasn’t over.

Obviously, Giovanni remained, along with the mage and his apprentice, plus a handful of guards.

By now, he would have tested the Basin’s magic, but depending on the mage’s skill, he might not yet know it wasn’t the real thing. No matter. Soon he’d be dead, and we’d take back our Dynasty, and then…

Giovanni stepped out of the catacomb entrance.

Alone.

No sign of the mage or the guards.

My stomach turned over, flames reigniting all over me. Giovanni was too fucking clever to waste time gloating and too much of a coward to face us alone.

The fucker raised a hand, and two guards—Summoners, no less—escorted someone from inside the rectory. The apprentice.

I frowned, trying to decide what his game was. What was he trying to…

Giovanni flipped the heavy hood back, and acid ate away at my veins. Across the ruins, Emberline made a small, helpless sound, Gabriel catching her around the waist before she darted forward.

Luca.

Who was supposed to be in Rome. Who Romulus had promised would be safe in Rome. Stood between two Summoners with nothing on his face but those slithering black veins and an empty blankness.

I was too far away to help the poor kid.