Page 58 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

Right now, Max and our gal pals, they got Pendragon’s back.

That butch blond Racetrack is hell on wheels, using fists and feet and wicked teleportation skills to keep Cleo’s cronies off Ronin’s ass.

What Max lacks in finesse, he makes up for in vicious, no-holds-barred butchery, aided by a couple of good-sized knives that are already bloody.

Little Dez mainly stays on the sidelines, but she’s stealthily creeping closer than anyone else to the stairs.

Clearly, that little witch has a plan.

Even as I watch, the gal dips a hand in her backpack, then hurls a fistful of what looks like silver glitter right at the clique of Aquarius witches in schoolgirl unis guarding the crypt stairs.

Dez yells a casting word, the glitter pops and flashes pink and lavender. When the sparkles settle, three witches are slumped on the floor.

Huh.

That’s a common magic sleep spell, used to good effect.

The remaining witches converge on Dez, who suddenly looks nervous. I dive into a spiral to lend her a hand. Abruptly Racetrack winks into view beside her, throws her arms around her gal, then whisks them both outta sight.

Right about now, teleportation’s a nifty trick to have up our collective sleeve.

With a snarled curse, Max goes down under the weight of a big alpha hyena, wiry arms straining to keep those gnashing jaws away from his throat.

Xhevith banks and soars right over the melee, plucks the hyena off Max with his outstretched forelegs, and wings off with the snapping shifter dangling in his claws.

While Max struggles to reorient himself and scramble back to his feet, Pendragon’s temporarily isolated.

Exposed.

His psi fire’s burned out or something, guess he needs a tick to recharge.

Meanwhile, he’s fighting hand to hand, snapping an impressive sidekick into a rival warlock’s diaphragm that hammers his target into next week.

The next guy who comes at him goes down and stays down under a punishing back kick that definitely cracks a few ribs.

Uh-oh.

Pendragon’s got incoming.

A hail of flying spellbooks whizzes at him, wielded by some telekinetic witch who’s attacking from the cover of a study carrel. Under the bombardment of this airborne library, Pendragon ducks and blocks and curses.

Meanwhile, three hyenas are converging on his thoroughly distracted ass.

Xhevith hurls the hyena he snatched right at a wall, which looks ouchy. Then the big green guy twists into a turn, weaving and tilting to keep clear of pillars and walls—tight squeeze in here for a full-grown dragon. Wending his way back to Pendragon’s gonna eat up precious seconds.

Seconds that warlock who’s been the bane of Sparrow’s life and mine just doesn’t have.

I got maybe a breath to decide.

I don’t ponder my options. I just act.

As the lead hyena crouches and springs, I swoop down behind Ronin, wrap my arms around his waist, and sweep my bane and nemesis into the air.

He stiffens up, natch, and whips out a serious knife from a hidden sheath. “Bloody fucking hell—”

“Appreciate if you’ll take it easy on my hide, Pendragon,” I drawl in his ear. “Considering I just saved your ass.”

“Blimey,” he grouses. But at least he doesn’t knife me. “ Ash. Warn a bloke next time, there’s a love.”

“You’re welcome.” For some damn reason, don’t ask me why, I’m grinning.

He’s a bulkier guy than Sparrow, with wider shoulders and a lot more height—but I’m bigger. I can handle him. I can even appreciate all that Leo body heat he’s radiating and the dark spice of ambergris rising from his skin and the silky mass of his long hair trapped between us.

Well, hell. I hate to admit it.

But I’m starting to maybe get why Sparrow’s gone apeshit crazy and lost his Dark Fae mind over Ronin Pendragon.

I get my butt in gear and beeline our flight for the stairs and the crypt.

Dez made us a hole with that sleep spell.

Ronin’s done a lotta damage with his psi fire.

Now, with Sparrow calling the shots from above, Xhev is spraying the remaining hyenas with gouts of his acid breath.

The critters yelp and hoot and scatter in all directions.

Racetrack is already urging Dez down the stairs. Max is pelting in that direction, dragon eyes flaming and Slavic face all savage with intent—because the crypt is where we’re supposed to hook up with Zara—with all the single-minded fixation of a rutting dragon.

As I swoop toward them, the warlock in my arms voices a whoop, then lets loose with a riff of maniacal laughter, like he always does on dragonback.

Clearly, Ronin Pendragon loves to fly.

Guess that’s something else we got in common.

Along with loving the same guy and worshipping the same gal and sharing the same darn polycule.

I deposit Ronin gently near the stairs and land a few feet past, running a few steps to bleed off momentum. Wings still flared and mantling, I lean over the dark stairs to get a gander.

Halfway down, Dez leads the way with a flicker of pink light dancing in her open palm. Racetrack and Ronin and Max power down the steps on her heels.

“Hey, guys and gals,” I call down after them. “Do we even know for sure if Zara—?”

“She is,” Sparrow’s gray silk voice murmurs in my ear. “With any luck, our queen has already entered the Vault, along with that moon-cursed kraken.”

My wings snap shut and melt into the tat inked into my back. Heady relief flooding through me, I turn toward my consort with a grin. “Howdy, Sparrowhawk.”

He gives me a fierce smile that shows off his tiny fangs, throws a forceful arm around my neck, and pulls me down for a short savage kiss that makes my bones melt. Xhevith swings his big head over us and chuffs out a snort to say howdy.

That dragon’ll stay put up here, guarding our backs like we planned. No one—and I do mean no one— gets past Xhevith.

Through the haze of yielding warmth that always seeps through me under my guy’s commanding hands, a clamor of excited cries floats up the stairs.

That’s Neo’s eager voice greeting the new arrivals, then my kid sis Mal calmly taking charge like the future Seelie Queen she is, punctuated with what sounds like an urgent yip from Lucius’ wolf.

I’m so relieved to hear my sister’s voice, I’m wrecked.

Now we just gotta get to Zara.

ASAP.

I surface from Sparrow’s kiss and run an affectionate hand over my guy’s windblown hair. “Our princess is already in the Vault, huh?” When he jerks his chin in a tight nod, I nod back. “Guess that’s where we gotta get—pretty darn quick. C’mon.”