Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove #3) by Shelby Mahurin

“Oh, I remember you, Burke. You made me look a fool in front of the entire coven.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” her sister said, either Elaina or Elodie.

“We’ve been looking for you both all night,” the other finished. “Thank you for making this easy.”

Though all three crooked their fingers at once, nothing happened. No patterns reared to strike. Beau waggled his Balisarda at them, grinning anew. “Something wrong?”

Elinor bared her teeth. “Ask your sister.”

“What does that—”

They attacked before he could finish, slipping knives from their sleeves and launching toward us. Elaina and Elodie at me. Elinor at him. Though quick—though furious—the sisters clearly hadn’t trained for physical combat sans magic. With a sense of dread at those chilling last words, I dispatched the first of them swiftly while Beau battled Elinor strike for strike. Her sister’s blood still dripped from my blade when I turned to face Elodie.

The earth beneath us rolled.

I staggered at the movement, glancing down incredulously. Cobblestones broke to pieces. All around, foundations cracked. Tiles littered the street. And Zenna—from somewhere above, she let out a mighty roar. The witches ahead tensed, renewing their efforts with haste. Half had climbed the drainpipes, stringing the chain taut between rooftops, like a wire. Magic coated everything.

I couldn’t make sense of it. Couldn’t think. The ground kept shaking. Sensing my distraction, the sister slashed her blade down in a mighty strike. Though I recoiled, though I lifted my own blade to parry, another knife whizzed past my face—close enough to feel its heat on my cheek—and lodged in the sister’s chest.

With a squeak of surprise, she sank to her knees, slipped sideways, and moved no more.

Behind us, Beau stood triumphant. Elinor stilled at his feet. “Did you see that?” Though he waved his Balisarda at the vengeful witch’s body, he glanced away quickly. He swallowed hard. “I saved your life.”

I blocked his view of their corpses. Knocked his shoulder with my own. Forced him to turn. “You also set me on fire.”

“Perhaps you could conjure some up for the rest of these—”

With another thunderous roar, Zenna swept into view. The sight of her wings against the sky, of her white-hot flame, stole the breath from my throat. And I remembered. A torch-lit stage. A starry cloak. And Zenna—Zenna weaving a heart-wrenching tale of dragon and maiden.

A magic chain, her kin doth wield to stay him on an even keel.

And when Tarasque did spiral down, her father felled him to the ground.

With Seraphine atop her back, Zenna dove low—too low—scouring the streets for persons unknown. When she saw us, she swooped even lower. She didn’t see the chain until it was too late.

“Wait! No, STOP!”

At the desperate wave of my arms, she banked, but her foot still caught the links. The chain moved of its own volition, slinging rapidly around her leg, up her haunch. With a bellow of rage, she began to fall, and as she did, her leg—it transformed into that of a human. Gruesomely. The witches descended like ants when she crashed to the ground. The impact threw Seraphine through the air with frightening speed. She collided with the trash cans nearest us.

“Oh my god,” Beau said. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Zenna’s roars transitioned to screams as Seraphine struggled to move. I bolted toward her, kicking the trash cans aside. “Seraphine—”

She pushed my hands away with surprising strength. “Go.” Though Beau attempted to drag her upright, she shook him off too, unsheathing another sword from down her back. She swung both equally with surprising dexterity. “Find Claud and the others. Find Lou. He intervened.”

“What?” Beau asked, perplexed.

My gaze darted toward Zenna, who the witches had lashed and beaten with the chain. She’d fully transformed now. Human once more. Vulnerable. “Let us help—”

“I am no damsel.” Springing to her feet, she knocked us aside and streaked toward her mate. “Find Claud. Leave Zenna to me.”

The ground gave a mighty lurch in response, and we had no choice.

We sprinted up the street.

“Where are we going?” Though Beau’s shout tore through my senses, I ignored him, pressing harder. Faster. Blood roared in my ears as we followed the fissure, tracking its path through West End, past the Tremblays’ townhouse, and skidding to a halt outside Brindelle Park. Buildings crumbled now. Witches and melusines alike scattered.

Claud stood in the middle of the street, completely and carefully still. He faced the spindly Brindelle trees.

He faced Coco and Lou.

The fissure ran directly between them, cracking wide, forcing them to leap apart. “LOU!” Her name shredded my throat, but I shouted it louder. I shouted it crazed. When her face jerked up—her eyes meeting mine—a cold fist of fear gripped my heart. Though I cast for a golden pattern, none could’ve prevented this. None could’ve stopped it. She tried anyway, flinging both hands toward the ground. Her entire body strained. Trembled. The sharp scent of magic exploded over the grass, the rocks, the trees—stronger than ever before—but this fissure was stronger, deeper, older, than even La Dame des Sorcières.

Together, helpless, we watched as the earth broke open completely.