They were too strong and agile for a fae. And they didn't cast any magic, nor did they have wings.
But there was no time to think. I ducked behind a fallen log, clutching a stick like it would save me. The witch let out a shriek and vanished in a puff of black smoke, only to reappear behind Rhydian.
I shouted his name, and he spun just in time, blocking her clawed hand with his glowing arm.
It was a mess. A storm of movement and blood and heat.
The clash of bodies and magic roared through the woods.
Alaric slammed a rogue werewolf against a tree trunk, his forearm pressing down hard on its neck. Blood splattered across the bark.
Mr. Four Eyes moved with sharp, precise steps, ducking beneath a vampire's swipe and jabbing his blade into its ribs. The creature shrieked and fell backward, but another took its place almost instantly.
I could barely breathe.
