The street, the warehouse, the buildings, everything fell away. The pure white of the sea of the source replaced everything except herself and Zagan.
Reality reasserted itself a second later. She and the bull reappeared out in the center of the street, far from the warehouse headquarters. It would stay that way if Lynn had anything to say about it.
The bull snorted out another spew of green flames. The front of her habit caught fire.
Lynn released the bull and staggered backwards. She replaced the green fire with her own white flames before extinguishing the spell.
It wasn’t fast enough. The entire front of her habit had burned away. Her skin started to blister and crack. Lynn shunted the pain off to the source and cursed her momentary distraction.
Distractions could kill.
As she looked back at the bull, the vague sense of fright from an attack while distracted vanished and was replaced by confusion.
The bull had collapsed on the ground. It lay on its side, shaking and convulsing. Snorts of green flame spewed from its nostrils.
Lynn felt the source analyzing everything. It ran through possibilities, trying to discern what happened. Hopefully, it would draw conclusions that would keep Lynn alive.
It had something to do with teleporting. The bull reacted poorly to the sea of the source, or perhaps Lynn’s own problem with the teleport. She had been distracted, upset, and in pain when she initiated the teleport.
And she had almost failed. Her concentration had wavered as the world fell apart. She was nearly stuck, trapped forever between realities with only Zagan for company.
The horror of the thought gave Lynn a small shudder.
Lynn pushed the thoughts aside. The source would work it out. Now, her opponent was down, though she doubted it would stay there.
Not that she wouldn’t try to keep it down.
Lynn gathered magic in her core. As much as she could. Electricity crackled at the tips of her fingers.
The Elysium Order’s lightning disrupted magic. Skeletons would fall apart just being grazed by it. The lightning would keep them from reforming. Its disruption lasted long enough to allow any lingering magic to dissipate.
With hope that the disruption effect would keep the demon from recovering or healing, Lynn attacked.
Lightning thundered from her fingertips.
It crashed into the bull’s side with all the force of a wrecking ball. The bull slid halfway up the street before skidding to a stop.
Lynn wasn’t about to give it time to rest. Bolt after bolt coursed over its body. None were as powerful as the first, but the speed made up for it.
She did not stop until the bull was crackling with white lightning on its own. Arcs of electricity ran up and down its body even without her casting.
The source was telling her to run. To teleport while she had the chance.
Lynn stayed where she was. There was no chance the Charon Chapter nuns had managed to get away with all the important artifacts in the short amount of time she had been outside. She would stay until the flare went up.
Wiping the sweat and blood from her face with her sleeve, Lynn took just a few seconds to catch her breath. She hadn’t thrown around that much magic since her days at the abbey. The Eye of God embedded in her chest needed a moment to recover from her magic expenditure as much as she did.
As she rested, the bull let out several, irregular snorts. Green flames accompanied each one.
Lightning lanced towards the bull.
It struck and struck.
The demon did not seem to care. It picked itself up to its feet with only small shudders as each bolt hit. Snort after snort of green fire accompanied its rise.
And it clicked in Lynn’s head. She took half a step backwards.
It was laughing.
It laughed at her. At the damage she was, or was not, doing.
It laughed and laughed.
And it continued to its hind legs.
Lynn watched as the body of the bull folded in on itself. The great wings unfurled to their full wingspan. Parts of them were still lit with holy fire. They shrank in as a more humanoid torso was molded from the meat of the bull.
The final part to change was his head. It pressed in on itself until a brown-haired, human head with sharp features emerged from the molten flesh.
A half-man, half-beast stood in front of Lynn. The legs hadn’t changed much and he retained his wings and horns, though they shrank to more proportional sizes. His bare chest held no injuries from flame or lightning.
He stood, brazen in a lax stance, in front of Lynn.
With a glare and a grin, Zagan raised his head. Golden eyes glinted against the flames and streetlights.
“You can’t win, nun,” he said with a silver voice. “You know this. Your powers are ineffectual against me.”
Lynn remained silent. She didn’t need to win. She needed to delay.
“I find myself fond you. You’re putting up a fiendish fight in the face of futility.” He took a few steps forward, still leaving columns of green flame where he touched the asphalt. “I like you, so I will make this offer once. Kneel before me. Kiss my hooves and beg to become my slave.”
