The Hexblight was fast—too damned fast, given its size—and thrust a meaty hand forward, summoning a shimmering dome of arcane light, which easily absorbed my enchanted round.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Annelli snarled in defiance, a vicious smile spreading across her beautiful lips.

“No shit, Sherlock. Cal, now!” I bellowed.

My spectral partner in crime materialized from the mouth of a connecting alleyway and consumed the Transformation Token in his hand. His formed shimmered and morphed, multi-segmented legs sprouting from a rocky, bulbous body covered in eyes.

A Stone Spider the size of a mountain lion blazed across the square. He brought one can of whupass, I brought the other. Together we were going to slay some bodies. Cal slammed into the Hexblight like a freight train, knocking her sideways as colossal, barbed claws snapped at her exposed flesh. Renholm appeared a moment later, bobbing and weaving like a cobra attack helicopter. He launched a dizzying array of light based magics, meant to blind and disorient.

I activated Mantle of Scales. A rippling iridescent cape appeared behind me and power ebbed out from me in a circle, spreading over the buildings behind me and bleeding down into the town square in front of me. I consumed a Stoneform Affinity Scale siphoning its power into my body, then redirecting it outward into my aura. The cape transformed, becoming steely gray as the effect from the scale took hold. Instead of buffing my friends, I triggered Reckoning Form.

Annelli howled in pain as Internal Petrification took hold, calcifying her joints. Cal struck while the iron was hot, easily dodging her now clumsy blows as he stabbed her over and over again with his spindly, razor-sharp legs.

I chambered round after round in lightning-fast succession, firing off a three-shot volley.

With the increase to my Finesse, my aim was deadly accurate and the rounds slammed into Annelli’s exposed ribs. She was built like an M1A1but the slugs ploughed through her tough hide and blood splattered through the air. A hit like that would’ve dropped most enemies flat. Hell, a hit like that would’ve leveled an angry rhino. She just grunted and kept right on brawling. Even without the mask, it was clear the Hexblight wasn’t going to be put down with a simple one-two combination of brute force and hot lead.

She raised her hands overhead, interlacing her fingers, then brought them down onto Cal’s chitinous head with a thunderous crack!

Cal stumbled away on his too many legs, reeling from the devastating blow. Renholm was still buzzing about, blasting her in the face with Fae magic, but his attacks were about as effective as bottle rockets. Annelli’s ignored him, her gaze darting about, searching for an easy way out. She fought hard and was willing to go to the mat, but she was also smart and wasn’t above retreating if it meant living to fight another day. I couldn’t let that happen.

This ended tonight with one of us dead.

I tucked the buttstock of my shottie tightly into my shoulder pocket, and fired twice more, this time aiming for Annelli’s beautiful face. The creature blurred left with unnatural speed and grace. The first shot went wide but the second punched into her shoulder. Blood bloomed and the Hexblight faltered as curls of putrid gray smoke rose from its flesh. A wild and half-crazed look invaded Annelli’s eyes. Fear. No. More than fear. This was abject terror.

The effects of the Fear Affinity Scales grabbing her by the throat. I had no idea what she saw when she looked at me, but hopefully it was enough to put the fear of God into her heart.

I expected her to make a break for it, then, driven away by Horrific Vision, but instead her lips pulled back in a rictus and she fixed me with a murderous gaze. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead ten times over. She threw her head back and howled, the sound simultaneously melodic and inhuman.

I fired again, but this time she was ready for my boom stick. Annelli thrust a hand up and conjured a bloody barrier of light. My round hit with flashes of golden light and ricocheted into the night. The dome vanished an eyeblink later as Annelli charged, not even slowing down despite the bullet holes littering her torso. With a great heave she bounded into the air, flying up to an impossible height. Time to put the Kibosh on that bullshit. I dismissed my shottie and thrust both hands forward, letting a torrent of Arcana race out from my core.

The cobblestones below cracked and thorn-studded vines erupted from the earth, reaching up like skeletal fingers and wrapping around one of her ankles. Annelli’s eyes flared in surprise as her jump ended abruptly and the vines yanked her back down to the ground. She landed on her side with a meaty thud and the vines quickly twinned themselves around her arms and legs, pinning her in place while inch long thorns stabbed and sliced, slicking the pavers below with blood. Annelli howled and snarled, ripping at the vines in manic frenzy.

This was the same spell she’d used on me during our first bout, and it felt good to be playing that Uno reverse card.

Even though I’d jacked my Arcana up to 22, my gauge was dropping at an alarming rate. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer and I wouldn’t get a better chance than now to bring out the big guns.

“Everyone back!” I thundered, cutting off the flows of magic powering the vines.

The conjured vines immediately began to wither and curl in on themselves, but that didn’t matter. I just needed a second for what I had in mind. I thrust one hand out, palm up. Power surged along my limbs as a lance of fire as thick as a telephone pole washed over her. I didn’t hold back. Every ounce of Arcana I had left went into the spell. This was my chance to end the fight without ever even getting my hands dirty. But damn was it a lot of power.

Sweat streamed down my face, my arms shook, and my knees trembled beneath me.

Still, I held on anyway as my Arcana gauge approached empty. Held on like a cowboy trying to saddle and ride a goddamned tornado.

The vines wrapped around Annelli’s body—now dying and dried—went up in an instance, engulfing the Hexblight in a choking blaze. Burning her alive just as the people of Ironmoor had burned her mother so many years ago. Pretty jacked up, in retrospect, but if you need something good and dead, there really is no better solution than bathtub of homemade napalm and a match. Finally the javelin guttered and died.

Panting as though I’d just sprinted a marathon, I pulled another Stoneform Affinity Scale from a pouch at my hip. The pent-up Essence would replenish my diminished Arcana Pool. As fresh energy filled my body, I switched my aura from Reckoning Form to Charity Form, using it to buff me and my friends. Every inch of my skin began to itch like crazy as a thin layer of calcified stone spread across my body like a rash. Stoneform acted as natural armor, granting additional resistances to piercing and slashing damage—at hit to my movement rate.

I glanced down into the flames, brow furrowed. Something was moving in there…

No fucking way. Nothing could’ve survived that.

But before I could even piece together what in the holy hell was going on, a hulking shape erupted from the flames, cannonballing through the air straight at me.

“Duck!” Arturo hollered from bellow.

Yeah, no shit. Except it was too late for that. The Hexblight, completely engulfed in flames, hit me like a linebacker and bowled me onto the slate tiles. Before I could regain my bearing, a molten hot hand wrapped around my ankle and pitched me unceremoniously off the roof and toward the town square below. I flipped ass over teakettle and landed on my back in a racket that sounded like a load of kitchen pans being tossed down a flight of stairs.

I couldn’t breathe—the air in my lungs had skipped town—but I was alive, and I could feel my legs which was a helluva lot better than how things had ended the last time Annelli had tossed my sorry ass through the air.

I blinked away the hazy white spots swimming in my vision just in time to see the monstrous Hexblight leaping off the roof, her fists raised in a killing blow. Prepared to turn my skull into a pinata.

I summoned the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The recoil should’ve been enough to kick the weapon right out of my grip, but I wasn’t a normal man—not anymore. The barrel bucked and the round blazed into the Hexblight’s unprotected midsection, blowing her backward. She flipped and landed in a crouch. The flames had died down to smoldering embers, leaving charbroiled skin and fur behind. But already she was healing. Chunks of burnt black skin flaked away to reveal shiny new pink flesh beneath. Screw me, but she was tough.

I scrambled to my feet, swapping out the shottie for my flame-enhanced battle-axe.

“You’re stronger than the last time we faced off,” she purred, maneuvering slowly to my left.

“And you’re stalling,” I said, circling right. “Time for talking is done. We’re dancing now.” I darted in, and brought the axe around in a wicked arc, looking to bury the blade in her neck. She sidestepped the blow and countered with a wild haymaker. It flew in the face of every natural instinct I had, but I didn’t even try to dodge. I’d planned for this. I had my heavy armor in place, Stoneform offering an additional layer of protection, and a tanky combo of Matchless Endurance and Spiked Shell. Honestly though, there was some part of me that secretly believed this was a real dumb idea.

Like that time Cal had swan dived on the second story floor of the barrack into a kiddie pool filled with Bud Lite.

Her fist slammed into my face…

There was a thunderclap of snapping bone.

My nose crumpled and a gush of blood wash over my chin, but I barely felt it. Right hand to god, it was like getting smacked with a stiff pillow.

Annelli on the other hand stumbled back, clutching a mangled wrist to her chest. Steely gray spikes of Arcana had erupted from my skin the moment she decked me, shredding her hand in the process. She struck again—a merciless hook to my ribs. The blow landed like a sledgehammer, but my Stone Spider armor absorbed the brunt of the damage while Spiked Shell retaliated once again, slicing through skin and chewing into bone. But she didn’t stop. White hot fury drove her and she rained down blow after blow, pummeling me with fists and slashing at me with claws.

I reeled and stumbled from the assault, but my body was wrapped in a blissful blanket of numbness, which was dangerous in its own way. Although Matchless Endurance allowed me to ignore the effects of pain, that didn’t mean my body wasn’t sustaining serious injury. It would just let me fight until I dropped dead from blood loss or devastating internal hemorrhaging.

Even though I knew I was playing with metaphorical fire, I still had to admit it was pretty badass. The more she wailed on me, the more damage she took.

“Stop hitting yourself,” I taunted with a shit eating grin as she staggered, her body a tapestry of bloody wounds and battered limbs.

“I will crush you like a flee,” she hissed, though I could see genuine concern on her face for the first time. I’d changed the rules of the game and now she knew it. That didn’t stop her from taking another swipe at me, her claws flashing in the firelight.

So far, I’d pretty much stood there and taken my licks. Which is why I caught her completely off guard when I ducked below the clumsy strike and dove right, rolling up to a knee.

“Now!” I bellowed while using my momentum to bury my axe in her exposed thigh. Bone cracked and fissures of molten fire snaked across her skin.

There was an ear-splitting screech as Cal charged in on from her other side, pinchers slicing at skin, razor sharp legs jabbing into her like spears.

And Cal wasn’t alone.

Renholm had come to play, and he’d brought reinforcements.

A flood of feral cats leapt from alleys and rooftops, charging the creature from every side. At the head of the fury calvary charge was the pixie, riding astride his tabby, Sir Jacob-Francis. The Hexblight was wounded and breathing hard and wasn’t even remotely quick enough to hit any of the cats. They struck like lightning, claws and teeth sinking into ankles, while others scrambled along the creature’s back. Renholm took flight and touched down on Annelli’s neck. He withdrew a tiny makeshift rapier I’d crafted for him using Grasshound Quills. He drew blood with every poke—a constant irritant nipping at her heels.

I jerked the axe free and drove the blade all the way to the bone, cutting her leg damn near in two. Somehow, she was still up and moving around on the limb, which shouldn’t have been possible. I gave a hard yank at the weapon, but I’d lodge it in good and deep and wiggle it as I might, I couldn’t pull the thing free. Instead, I dismissed it, momentarily banishing it back to the Soul Vault in exchange for my shot gun. As the axe disappeared from her leg, the wound let out a great woosh of blood, spraying me right in the eyes like a Super Soaker.

Dammit.

Suddenly, the world was stained with crimson, partially blinding me. A hoofed foot lashed out, catching me in the jaw and dropping me to the deck. Annelli whirled, summoning a spear of rock and vine. She charged Cal—still in his Stone Spider form—and slashed the tip of the spear through the air, severing one of his legs then another, and another still. He shrieked and retreated, but with the missing legs, he couldn’t go far, and he couldn’t go fast. She whipped her left hand out and roots erupted from the earth, lifting Cal into the air—exposing his belly.

She lunged in and drove the conjured spear through his chest. He let out another squeal, legs curling in on themselves while his body spasmed and twitched. He exploded apart a second later, his corporal form banished from the Material Plane.

An annoyed look flashed across Annelli’s face and she reached for Renholm, trying to snatch the Pixie from her back. I’d finally managed to wipe most of the blood from my eyes, though it still felt as though someone had hit me full on in the face with bear mace.

I needed her focused on me. With a snarl, I unleashed a blinding lance of flame, which slammed into her like a battering ram. She left the pixie be and wheeled toward me. I darted toward her, closing the distance, reloading my shottie as I moved.

I’d run dry of Fear Rounds, but I still had a full compliment of Plague Scale Shot. I blasted seven rounds into her belly at point blank range, inflicting her with painful Blackblood Itch. I could see the disease working in real time—spidery black veins racing across her skin like jagged bolts of lightning.

Annelli retreated in the face of my onslaught, her sausage fingers grabbing at her bloodied gut, her eyes dazed from pain. This night had not gone as she’d expected. I had her on the ropes and now was the time to put her down for good. I thrust the gun up under her chin and pulled the trigger one final time, expending the shotgun’s last round. And holy shit did I make it count. The muzzle vomited flame and half of Annelli’s beautiful jaw vanished in an instant—her cheek blown away to reveal teeth and sinew.

She wasn’t quite so tough without her stupid mask.

I expected her to drop like a stone, but instead she smiled at me. I have a few tricks left to show you, that look said.

Her devastated jaw unhinged, stretching wide like a human-snake; a thick, green fog billowed out in waves, rolling across the ground and swelling up into the air, obscuring the torches and devouring the town square. Casting the world into a perpetual green twilight.

Cats mewled and hissed as they fled from the toxic cloud. They were smarter than me.

Half-seen tendrils of cancerous jade wrapped around me. Thin wisps of poison bored into my nose and mouth and eyes.

[Poisoned! You have been afflicted by Corpse Gas. Corpse Gas infects the lungs, lowering your Stamina Regeneration. Corpse Gas can cause spontaneous and violent bouts of nausea, visual and auditory hallucinations, or render those with weak Verve unconscious. Suffer under the effects of Corpse Gas until the gas disperses or you leave the Area of Influence.]

I clawed at my face, trying to clear the strands away, but it was a fruitless task. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Every noise was oddly distorted—either too close or too far. But I wasn’t dying. This cloud sucked ass, but it wasn’t immediately lethal. Just disorienting. That I could handle. I’d lived through the gas chamber more times than I could count, and I’d also aced the Marine Corps non-lethal weapons course. This was terrible, but no worse than that.

I steeled myself and let my mind settle.

My preternatural Combat Sense flashed and time seemed to momentarily lurch and slow as a silvery form took shape in the mist. A ghostly shape drifted through the fog. Annelli was coming for me, on the right. Reality sputtered back to real time and I sidestepped left, avoiding her first attack. But I wasn’t quick enough to avoid the gorilla arm that slammed into my neck and clotheslined me, sending me to the deck. Spiked Shell exacted vengeance on my behalf, but if a shotgun blast didn’t stop her, a couple more Arcana Spikes weren’t going to do it either.

“I’ll finish with you later,” a feminine voice whispered, “but first the priest. I finally see now. You aren’t the real threat. He is…”

Then the voice was gone. I heard the clop of hooves depart. Arturo bellowed a second later.

This was bad. Real bad. The ritual weakened the Hexblight, but unfortunately it required both continued concentration and close proximity. If she killed Arturo, the Spirit Mask would reform, and then we’d be back to square one. I still couldn’t see jack shit, however. I unleased a Fire Javelin, hoping to burn the mist away, but it simply swirled and ebbed, more of the green toxin rushing into the vacated space.

A lonely meow pierced the mist and a moment later Renholm and his cat trotted into view.

“Quickly!” The pixie yelled, wheeling the cat around in a circle. “The fat, slovenly priest requires immediate assistance.” He stuck a little hand out and a thin tether of light jumped from his fingers, snaking off to the left. With a groan, I gained my feet then took off after Renholm and Sir Jacob-Francis, following the wispy trail of light into the mist while reloading my shottie.

The green mist began to clear as we moved. It didn’t vanish entirely, but it had dissipated enough to let me see a few feet at least. What I saw stopped me cold.

Arturo was down on the street, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving. There was a pool of blood growing out beneath him. Towering above him was Annelli. She held a twisted vine-like spear—the same weapon she’d used to take Cal out—and she’d driven it right through the Padre’s stomach. Had him pinned to the floor like a frog on the dissecting board. He was alive but wouldn’t stay that way for long. Not unless we did something.

“Renholm,” I whispered. “I’m going to distract the Hexblight. You take care of Arturo. Your one job is to make sure he doesn’t die.”

“That sounds boring,” the pixie grumbled, fingering the hilt of his Grass Hound rapier. “I suppose, however, that some sacrifices must be made for the good of my kingdom. Consider it done, my Count.” He laid tiny heels into the cat’s sides and it took off, threading toward the downed priest.

I quickly ran through my list of available options. Flame Javelin didn’t have enough giddy up to put the creature down for keeps and Matchless Endurance and Spiked Shell were both passive. Mantle of Scales was already active, and I didn’t have anything that would heal the priest. Spectral Roots could momentarily pin the Hexblight in place, but that was a terrible idea. I needed to get her away from Arturo, not glue her next to him. Peerless Warrior could give me a temporary edge, but if I didn’t kill her in the next three minutes, then I’d pass out from exhaustion, and then we’d all be royally boned.

There was one option that I hadn’t tried yet. It was a gamble, but honestly there seemed like no better time to roll the dice. What else did we have to lose?