Tempted by Elisabeth Naughton Read Free Book Online

fighter.
    Blade met sword. The witch was small but strong, and Demetrius felt the dark magick clinging to her as she fought against him. The third witch disappeared and reappeared at the edge of his vision, an exact replica of the one he was fighting. As he swung again and again and advanced, he realized she was casting illusions, trying to confuse him.
    Fucking witches…
    He pushed her closer to the gun battery. She growled, shifted the sword in her hands. Venom shone in her eyes. Her back hit the stone wall with a thwack. Knowing she was cornered, she stared at him, and a slow smile spread across her twisted face. “Come to me. Join me. You know you can’t resist for long.”
    “I don’t think so.” He swung up and over, catching her arm with the flat of his blade, knocking the sword from her grasp. It clattered against the hard ground.
    Her eyes flew wide, and her irises turned neon yellow…which was just freakin’ wrong . She shifted forward, raised her arms, and pointed her fingers at his chest. “Mother goddess of the—”
    “I’m not wild about that one either.” He placed the heel of his boot against her chest and pushed just hard enough to get her attention. Her back hit the wall again. “Surrender.”
    He spent his life killing. Daemons weren’t a problem, and if a random human got in the way of his goal, it was an acceptable loss as far as he was concerned. But he had a mental hang-up when it came to fighting a female, even a witch. He didn’t want to gut her, but he also knew the depth of her powers and he wasn’t about to let her cast a spell over him.
    “I’d rather die first.” The witch lifted her hands again.
    Before she could hex him, he pushed with the sole of his boot. A cracking resounded just before the stones gave way and her body tipped over the edge of the wall. He reached out to grab her, but she slipped out of his grip. Her scream echoed up as she dropped into the clouds below.
    “Demetrius!”
    Damn it. At the sound of his name, Demetrius tore to the other side of the wall walk and looked across the ward to the inner wall, where Gryphon had flashed and was now fighting a handful of witches. Only these didn’t look like illusions. They looked real and pissed and abundant.
    “ Skata .” Demetrius closed his eyes and flashed to the next wall, behind the horde of witches. He kicked out at one, knocked her off balance. She leaped to her feet, twisted around, and hissed. When she charged with her sword high, he arced out and slashed through her abdomen. Lights flickered around her like a halo as blood spurted from the wound. But it wasn’t red, it was neon yellow, and when a drop hit the skin of his hand, it sizzled and burned.
    Holy motherfucking…
    Her shriek yanked his attention. In a daze he watched her beauty stutter and fade, leaving behind a wrinkled, gnarled, and warped being with razor-sharp teeth and snakes shooting out all over her head.
    No way. Delia hadn’t lied when she said these things weren’t Medean anymore. They were like Furies, without the fucking wings. Any apprehension he had at mowing them down evaporated. He used his blade to take down one, then another. Each time he struck, that acid spurted from their wounds, charred any bits of his flesh left exposed.
    They were relentless, coming again and again. By the time he reached Gryphon’s side, he was bloody and bruised, his hands charred and aching, and he was breathing heavily, a trail of dead witches behind him on the wall walk.
    Gryphon didn’t look much better. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I prefer fighting daemons. These witches are fucking brutal. At least the damn daemons go down easy.”
    Demetrius wasn’t about to compare the two. His gaze shot to the courtyard below. “We have to get inside that keep before they bar the doors.”
    They each flashed to one side of the gatehouse entrance, where two witches were working to roll the massive wood doors closed. Demetrius nodded