The witches stumbled backward, their ritual unraveling into jagged shrieks of Latin. The sight before them was something they hadn’t prepared for, hadn’t even considered: a hunter shackled in their blood-bindings, smiling as a hellhound brushed against her hand like a faithful dog.
Eden’s laugh cut through the silence like a blade. “You made two mistakes tonight. One: thinking you could trap me. Two…” She glanced at the massive hound, whose glowing eyes reflected the flicker of blood-flames from the sigils. “…forgetting she doesn’t hunt me. She hunts for me.”
Eve raised her head, lips curling back into a snarl that exposed rows of teeth like polished knives. The low growl that rolled from her throat rattled the rafters and sent dust pouring from the ceiling.
The witches finally broke.
“Kill it!” their leader screamed. “Bind it! Before it devours us all!”
They hurled curses, crimson bolts of fire and writhing tendrils of shadow — but Eve moved like smoke. One moment she was at Eden’s side, the next she was across the nave, tearing into a witch’s chest. There was no scream — just a wet crack and the sound of ribs shattering like kindling. The woman was yanked into the air, vanishing into the darkness of Eve’s maw, her body dissolving as though she’d never existed.
The others shrieked and scattered.
Eden felt the chains binding her begin to weaken, Eve’s presence unraveling the spell itself. She flexed her hands, forcing her unnatural strength against the bindings until they snapped like brittle twine. She rolled to her feet, shotgun sliding back into her grip as though it had been waiting.
The witches tried to regroup. Three of them formed a circle, chanting faster, louder, their hands weaving blood-magic that crackled like red lightning.
Eve answered with a howl.
It wasn’t just a sound — it was a force. The howl reverberated in every bone, shattered stained glass into razors, blew out candles in an instant. The witches staggered, clutching their ears as blood poured from their noses.
Eden strode forward, her boots echoing against the stone. “You wanted souls for your little ritual?” she spat, loading fresh shells into her shotgun. “Guess what. You just offered yours.”
She fired. The blast of salt and iron tore through the nearest witch’s chest, slamming her back into the altar. The runes carved there flared, cracked, and bled light.
Eve lunged again, a blur of darkness, her claws gouging the stone floor as she leapt. She landed atop another witch, crushing her spine with the weight of her body. The woman’s scream ended abruptly as Eve clamped her jaws down and ripped her soul free, the essence trailing like smoke into the hound’s throat.
The coven leader howled, raising both hands, summoning every ounce of magic into a single curse. A spear of blood-fire erupted from her palms, streaking across the nave straight at Eden.
Eden didn’t move.
Eve appeared in front of her, jaws snapping shut around the spell itself. The flames shrieked as though alive, then vanished into smoke between the hellhound’s teeth.
The leader’s eyes went wide with terror.
Eden smirked. “Yeah. She eats magic too.”
The leader turned to flee, but Eve was faster. She slammed into the woman with the force of a wrecking ball, hurling her into the altar. The stone cracked, the runes splintered, and the banshee’s chains flickered violently.
The banshee’s silent scream built to a crescendo. Her bindings began to fray, her body thrashing with renewed force.
Eden reloaded calmly, eyes blazing, half-angel and half-demon. She took in the carnage around her: witches torn apart, the church awash in blood and shadow, Eve prowling through the wreckage with glowing eyes fixed on her mistress for orders.
Only two witches remained. They crawled toward the ruined pews, sobbing, broken, their magic spent.
“Mercy,” one whimpered, blood staining her teeth. “Please… we only… we only served her…”
Eden tilted her head. “Mercy isn’t in my vocabulary tonight.”
Eve lunged, and their screams were swallowed whole.
The church went quiet.
Eden stood in the center of the nave, smoke rising around her, the floor cracked and scorched. The hunters still hung suspended above, barely alive. The banshee shuddered, her chains nearly broken, her eyes locked on Eden’s glowing ones.
Eve padded back to her side, muzzle slick with blood and shadows, her chest rising with steady, eager breaths.
Eden reached down, brushing her fingers along the hound’s smoky fur. “Good girl,” she whispered.
The last of the coven’s blood-circle cracked, the altar splitting in two. The banshee’s wail finally tore free, a scream of anguish, fury, and release that shattered what glass still clung to the windows.
The battle was over.
But Eden knew this was just the beginning.
End of Chapter Five
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.