Shadow demons. An icicle of fear pierced my heart, sending cold streaking through me. They had found us.
I drew my copper-hilt knives and burst into the shop.
There were at least five demons fighting Nix, Claire, and Connor. Even Del was there, wielding her short sword like a master against the same man from the tomb in Norway. He was the only non-demon assailant, but he was strong. He threw blasts of flame at Del that she repelled with her enchanted sword. Blade and shield in one, it was her first choice of weapon.
How had he found us? Fear sunk its claws into my back. My magic surged within me, a tidal wave of power that threatened to overwhelm my control and burst out of me in a horrifying show of force. I could blast them all away, but I couldn’t keep my magic from hurting my deirfiúr as well. Or Connor and Claire, who fought two huge demons in the back corner.
Nix grappled with two in front of the counter. Behind her, a demon ransacked the shelves. In quick succession, I threw both of my copper-hilt daggers. They plunged into his back, near where I hoped his heart would be.
The demon turned and growled. Damn. Despite the blades in his back, he was still standing. He was at least as strong as the demon at the temple of Murreagh. Not all shadow demons seemed to be that strong, but perhaps he was old.
He raised a huge gray hand and threw a blast of smoky magic at me. I dove left as the searing streak of smoke plowed into the window behind me. It shattered, throwing glass everywhere. Pain pierced my back in a hundred little places.
Damn! I climbed to my feet, my back burning, as Aidan launched himself past me at the demon who’d attacked me. He was in his human form because the shop was too small for him to fight as a griffon, but he was fierce. His fists were a blur, which was lucky, because his brand of magic was so destructive that he’d have to fight with fists if he didn’t want to destroy the building he was in.
I leapt over debris in the middle of the shop, my heart aching at the sight of all the broken replicas, and joined Nix in fighting the two demons that attacked her. She’d been fine when I’d first burst into the store, fighting the demons off with her usual skill, but one had gotten in a solid hit to her middle that had her wheezing.
We each took one demon—like a double date, but way more violent. The punch I threw at my demon glanced off his face. My knuckles burned. This was why I hated hand-to-hand.
I ducked down and grabbed a jagged piece of shattered pottery. It was shaped roughly like a dagger, and I plunged it into the demon’s chest and then kneed him between the legs, hoping I was getting a ball shot. As he collapsed, I caught sight of Aidan charging the man who’d fought Del.
She was sprawled on the ground, her dark hair spread out in a crimson wave. The attacking Magica flung out his hand and sent a jet of ice at Aidan. The jagged blue wave of ice plowed him to the ground.
Oh, man, I wished I could use my power to blast him back. The bastard so deserved it. None of us wanted to destroy Ancient Magic, so we didn’t use our powers. But this guy didn’t care.
The man jumped over the counter. I ran for him. Before I got there, he reached under the counter and grabbed a box, then threw something to the ground. A silvery cloud burst up around him and he disappeared.
I stumbled to a halt.
What the hell? I thought he’d been after us. I spun around to check my deirfiúr. The demon that Nix had fought was on the ground. She knelt over Del.
Aidan slipped up behind the demon who’d fought Claire and broke its neck. It was the last demon in the shop. The rest were unconscious or had already disappeared.
“Check to see if they’re all dead,” I said. “I want to know why they were here.”
“Robbery,” Nix said. “The first real one we’ve had in a while.”
She was right—we didn’t often get thieves she couldn’t take care of. But these weren’t ordinary thieves. There was a lot more at play here that I didn’t understand.
I knelt over the demon that Nix had knocked out and shook him. Nothing. He was just dead weight. Literally. He wasn’t breathing.
He’d disappear soon, back to his hell.
“I killed this one,” Aidan said. “Sorry about that.”
“Mine’s dead too,” Connor said.
“Damn.” With the promise of information gone, I sank to my knees. The pain of my wounds finally hit me. My back hurt like hell.
“Are you all right?” Aidan knelt beside me, gently touching my shoulder with one big hand.
“Yeah.” I bit out the words. “Just a flesh wound.”
“Not funny,” he said. “How wounded are you?”