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SELENE! STAY WITH ME.Memnon forces his magic into me, and I reach for it, letting it slip through me and fight off the curse that’s flaying me open.

DO YOU SEE YOUR ENEMIES? MARK THEM,EST AMAGE, THEY ARE NOW MY OWN.

“She’s hit,” one of the witches says.

“Does it look like I care? That fucking cunt nearly ripped off my leg.”

“Enough,” a third one says.

Memnon’s power must be working because the pain from the curse is dying down, and I’m able to move my eyes.

So I can see one of the witches prowling over, her toenails painted a soft pink color. For some reason, that strikes me as ridiculous, given the situation.

She crouches next to me, her straight black hair brushing my cheek. “When the others get to you, you’re going to wish you hadn’t done shit tonight,” she whispers, looking down on me.

She lifts her hand, and I’m not sure if it’s to slap me or strike me with another spell, but I want to scream because I can’t do anything but lie here, prone.

The witch flashes me a nasty smile. “Payback’s a bit—” A black shadow collides with her, and I hear her scream. It cuts out, replaced by the meaty sound of ripping flesh.

There are more screams and more meaty sounds. Now I’m able to tilt my head just a little. A massive shadow is pinning one of the witches, and it jerks its head, tearing out a section of flesh. The creature pauses to glance over at me, its eyes glinting eerily in the darkness.

Irecognizethose eyes.

Nero!

I want to cry because he’s here, defending me. He roars, then lunges toward another witch.

I see a flash of cobalt-blue magic whoosh toward him.

In an instant I’m in his mind.Get down!

His body lowers, pressing flush against the ground, and the spell whizzes harmlessly past him.

I’m out of his head in an instant, dragging as much of Memnon’s magic into me as I can, until it’s flushing out the last of the spells that cling to my body.

I thought I was panicked before, but now knowing that my familiar is taking on a group of bloodthirsty witches all on his own—I’m petrified for him.

My fingers and toes twitch, then my hands and wrists, feet and ankles. I want to scream at how painfully slow it’s going.

Before I get full motor function back, I sense one of the witches grabbing the shifter girl behind me.

No!

I fling my magic out without a spell, letting the cords of it find the witch. As soon as they do, my power wraps around the witch’s ankles and yanks her off her feet.

She grunts as she hits the ground hard. Before she can get up, my familiar is on her—

I cringe at the wet sound of him biting into her. I slip into his mind, coaxing my familiar to let the witch go. Reluctantly, he does so.

From his eyes, I peer around us. The witches all appear to be accounted for. Several of them lie on the ground, moaning. Two more are limping away together. Nero’s nostrils flare at the smell of so much blood.

I move back from his mind to my own. I’ve regained enough control of my body to turn on my side and retch, my body wanting to purge the pain and the spells and all the gruesome sights of the evening.

Nero prowls over to me and nudges me onto my back again. I groan as I flop onto my injured shoulder.

My familiar puts a paw on my chest, and he gives me an intense and—I swear to the goddess—irritated look. Normally, I have to guess at Nero’s more complex thoughts, but for some reason, this one is clear:Call on me for help.

I swallow and nod. “Thank you,” I murmur.