CHAPTER NINE
CeCe hacked through thicket as we journeyed deep into a cluster of trees.
Bo and I followed behind her, careful to avoid her rose-gold sword. That thing could cleave the head off damn near anything. When she cleared an unruly branch, sparks flew. Every strike released warmth and the smell of fresh-cut wood into the air.
Several times, my gabardine snagged on rogue branches. It was a miracle that CeCe didn’t snag her red dress—it must have been her magic. Not even these trees wanted to pick a fight with her today.
The woman’s head dangled as CeCe gripped it tightly by the hair. Maggots dropped off here and there, and I did my damnedest not to step on the fat, grubby things. They stunk like rotting trash.
“You will regret this,” the demon woman said. A trickle of dried bloo
