But her time was up, as Malahidael attacked with blinding speed. He cut low, sideways, somehow angling the blade upward just before contact with her spear, the glowing blade slashing her left hand where it clutched her weapon.

Taking a page from the witch, she flung her wounded hand out, flicking her black blood toward his eyes, then using her own innate power to pull the horseshoe-bent Vespa at his head from the side.

He did nothing, just stood there, immovable, as the scooter broke apart into two pieces against his armor. He didn’t even waver, as if he could lock himself to the the very Earth. Fear stole into her blackened heart. It was as if he had the powers of a vampire, in addition to the weapons and armor of an angel and the vicious battle instincts of a demon legionnaire. She had miscalculated—badly. About the boy witch, about the fallen angel, about the allies they surrounded themselves with. Not only was the mission in jeopardy but now her unholy existence itself was in danger.

It was time to leave. It was time for one more surprise. In an instant, she crouched, folding her steel spring legs, then exploded upward, leaping forty feet straight up. At the top of her jump, just as she peaked out, right at the moment where she floated for a split second before this world’s gravity would lay claim to her physical self, she unfurled her wings.

Bat-shaped, very like that of the mini dragon, they spanned eighteen feet and appeared from her back as if by magic. And just like that, she removed herself from almost all of her opponents, leaving the ground-bound behind. She thought she’d left them all behind with just the exception of the small dragon, but a quiet humming surrounded her and she looked up to find herself surrounded by hovering silver orbs—six or eight of them. And they all began to fire on her at once.

Chapter 35

Coruscating beams of coherent light converged on her scaled skin, instantly burning holes deep into her tissues. She roared her anger before flapping mighty wings and swooping back toward the ground below.

Dropping down, she passed the little dragon on its way up, the beast immediately spitting an abortive burst of flame at her, but she zipped right through it, pulling up almost immediately and flapping to regain altitude. Now she was in an aerial dogfight with the weapons of the machine and the dragon that was bound to the witch, but she had reduced her overall enemies by over three quarters, leaving them on the ground. And it wasn’t a fight she needed to win; she just needed to buy herself time to open up her escape route.