Bloodline Alchemy: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Novel (Bloodline Academy Book 6), Lan Chan [free ebook reader for android TXT] 📗

their arms around my back as I slumped. Cheyenne’s soothing voice spoke in my ear. “Hold on,” she whispered. “We’ve got you.”

For how long remained to be seen. Less than a quarter of the malachim had broached the barrier and already the blood circles were running out of steam.

“I’m not strong enough,” I lamented. “Never strong enough.”

My chin dipped. Cheyenne’s hand clasped mine. On my other side, Edward’s head appeared. He burrowed under my elbow and set up shop with his head resting against my chest.

“Don’t worry, Sophie,” he said. “We’ll save you.”

Laila crouched down in front of me. She picked up the knife and cut a line into her hand. “Take it,” she said, dripping blood onto the circle. “Stop them.”

“No,” I breathed.

But one by one, they stepped up to me and hurt themselves to furnish me with blood. “I can’t!” I cried, the tears streaming down my cheeks. There was no way to make them understand. They would kill themselves and bleed until they dried up inside to help each other. The pool of blood in front of me was enough to fill a crucible. If I were a high-magic sorceress, there would be no telling what I could do with that much blood. But I didn’t have high magic. All I had was this stupid alchemy that would destroy my soul as soon as I tried to transmute Lex’s blood into something that could be used as a weapon.

“Sophie.” Cheyenne turned my head to look at her. Through the blurry vision, I saw her smile. “It’s okay. We understand.”

I didn’t. Was my soul really worth this?

Turning my head, I looked to where Max was tearing his way through the oncoming malachim. He charged at it full pelt, took it down to the ground, and severed its neck with a single, ferocious bite. Black blood spurted into his mouth, but it was impossible to distinguish against his already-soaked mane.

Not stopping to survey the result of his kill, Max pivoted and grabbed another demon where it was choking the life out of Gwen. He snapped its spine in two before tossing it at a wave of other oncoming demons.

The basilisk changed tactics. Where it had once breathed water, it now puffed fire out of its lungs. It swarmed around the malachim coming through the barrier and shot fire at them so that they were already half dead before they hit the ground.

I felt it the moment my blood barriers ran out of juice. The magic cut out at the same time all of the strength in me collapsed.

It was only Cheyenne’s arms around me that held me upright. The first incorporeal malachim snatched one of the leopard soldiers by his neck. I stared, dumbstruck as the malachim shoved its hand right through the leopard’s chest. Once inside, the malachim’s arm became corporeal. The distressed cry the leopard gave before its heart was ripped out would forever haunt me.

The shifters around him cried out, their anguish a solid thing that was reflected in the sorrow in the conference room. I couldn’t breathe. The thought of sitting up here while they died was so abhorrent, I tried to get up.

Around me, the shifters did the same. We were looking at each other as though making a decision, when somebody hissed. I turned around in time to see a malachim snatch Ari by his flank. He howled. My head became filled with rushing wind as the malachim shoved its ethereal hand into Ari’s chest. He screamed with such agony I felt it curving over my spine.

I braced for the moment when the malachim would rip Ari’s heart from his chest, when a rainbow slash of metal sliced down on the malachim’s arm. Charles roared with both rage and pain as he kicked Ari out of the way and beheaded the malachim with a swipe of the demon blade. His eyes had turned a burnished gold that was ringed in red. The smoke that wafted from where his hands were touching the demon blade was beginning to become unbearable. He could hardly see in front of him.

Cutting his losses, Charles finally sheathed the sword. Another malachim came at him. Lowering his body into a predatory crouch, Charles launched himself at the malachim. His intention was to shift mid-air and meet the malachim side on in his lion form. Unfortunately, only half of his body would comply. Prolonged exposure to the demon blade had corrupted the cells in his arms. The thing that he shifted into was an awful creature with a lion’s head, legs, and torso but a human’s weedy little arms. He lost balance and went tumbling into the ground.

Shifting back quickly, he only just managed to evade the malachim before it tried to sink its mouth into his neck. His arm whipped out, thinking he would clock the malachim in the head. Where his fist had always hit solid flesh before, Charles’s hand went straight through the malachim.

Half the room screamed when two malachim surrounded him. Their claws lashed out. Charles roared, trying to leap away from their aim. An inch away from his face, the malachim was ripped backwards. Max caught hold of the first one by its leg. He grabbed the other as it flailed, and with a swift jerk of his muscled arms, he tore the malachim in two.

“What did I say about that stupid stick?” I heard him shout at his brother.

“Shut up!” Charles shouted back as he fly-kicked the oncoming malachim in the head.

Though his voice was laced with rage, it wasn’t directed at his brother. There were simply too many malachim. Too many other demons. Too much magic getting in their way.

Above it all, Agatha’s head tipped down. Her eyes searched until her attention landed on the conference room. I knew without doubt that her smile was directed at me. Raising her arms in the air, she shot a purple beam of light that went straight for where Charles was standing. It turned the ground