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

On my right, Anastasia had been given the same treatment. Her shackles were wrapped around her wrists and secured to the pole behind her back. Somebody had taken her boots off, the silver making the bare skin of her ankles swell and singe. Unlike Noah, she was conscious, though the thing snapping its teeth at me could hardly be considered alert. Her eyes were a mottle of red and yellow. Her teeth had bitten into her tongue and her bottom lip, making blood coat the inside of her mouth.

Around the base of where they stood, a patch of blue-flowered shrubs pushed from the sand. Wolfsbane. The scent of the plant sent Anastasia into a frenzy. She clawed at her bindings. When she was unable to get free, she instinctively raised her head to the open ceiling and howled at the moon. The mournful quality of it had my chest locking. She was calling for aid.

Over in the far corner of the arena, the portal to the Hell dimension completed itself. At the same time, another figure appeared strapped to the pole. As Celeste’s body touched the pole, it changed from silver to iron. She cried out as the sting of poisoned metal touched her cheek. Unlike the others, she was strapped facing the pole. Her burgundy wings snapped out in distress, her blonde hair clinging to her scalp where blood was also seeping out. Screaming, she tried to pull herself from the iron shackles.

Celeste came from a long line of Fae royalty. The roots of her ancestry dated back to the Wild Hunt in the old dimension. She never shut up about how she was distantly related to Angus and something to do with Oberon, their fallen king. Thanks to her pedigree lineage, Celeste was predominantly an earth Fae, but she also dabbled in the other elements as well.

Her lips formed a spell in the old Fae language, but as soon as she tried to speak them, a swarm of magenta light engulfed her body, pressing it flat against the iron pole. Her scream was silent behind the cloud of Agatha’s magic. Celeste’s face contorted into such agony that I couldn’t watch. Instead, I dragged my attention to the remaining pole in time to see James’s wings being snapped out of shape as phantom hands curled themselves around him. The joint of his left wing was hanging by a thread.

Sweat poured from his brow as he sank to the sand in an effort to relieve the pressure on his wing. He gave a hideous groan and passed out when the wing touched the sand and was pushed into an unnatural angle.

“Stop it!” I screamed at Agatha.

“What’s the matter?” she said. “Surely you don’t feel sympathy for these people. Have they not tormented you? Why not use them the way you should?”

She pointed to the portals. Desperate and uncertain, I found myself looking to the mirror for hope. All I got in return was the disbelieving but riveted faces of some random supernaturals I didn’t know.

Something stomped in the mouth of the portal. My time was up. Turning, I dropped down into the sand again and drew another four circles. Each one denoted a blood circle to protect the supernaturals.

Anastasia snapped her teeth at the sight of the circle. Foam bubbled at her mouth. Making my decision, I flipped the knife in my hands and rammed the handle into the side of her temple. On a good day, I wouldn’t be close to strong enough to knock out a wolf. But she was so weakened by the silver against her skin and the wolfsbane invading her senses that she passed out cold.

A spear appeared through the portal first. For a second, my brows drew together at the odd sight of a weapon. Demons didn’t usually carry them. They had no need for it. The reason for the spear became apparent when the long-limbed demon pushed itself into this dimension. It must have been involved in the skirmish at the border of the dwarf hills. The spear itself was actually attached to the hand of a solid-looking dwarf with reddish-brown hair and a moustache that trailed almost to his knees. The demon clutched the dwarf like a toy in its clawed hands. The dwarf was unconscious, with arrows sticking from his back.

As the demon came into full view, the crowd rose to its feet and stomped. Magic swept through the arena, scraping its ill intent over my skin that was already so raw. The demon raised its head in the air. Its grey skin looked like bumpy sandpaper. Its forearms were longer than its legs, the powerful muscles dwarfing even its head. A flat brow plate sat on its forehead, and to the side, a pair of blackened horns protruded. At the base where they connected to the demon’s head, the horns were a light grey. It made me think that their original colour had been drenched in blood and blackened over time. The demon’s tail was serpentine. It curled around the thing in a protective circle. The same protective plating that was on its head also adorned its tail and back. Those too were covered in dried blood.

Raising its head to the sky, the demon let forth a bellow that sounded nothing like anything I had ever heard before. It was both deep and high-pitched at the same time. The sound reminded me of the noise the elephants made, only this was followed by a stampede of rustling. As the noise sank into my mind, I was hit with a needle of fear that burrowed into my brain. Through it, I saw my own body lying crumpled in a pool of blood on the sand. I saw my dead eyes staring out at nothing, as the demon tore Noah from the pole beside me. It was projecting its thoughts on me.

Gripping onto reality, I used the same trick I’d done to stop