Beatrice's POV.

Witch's bullets pepper my back. The electricity sizzles through me and I feel the knots of my magic fray. My magic lurches out in pain; black spiders leak out of my fingers like spilled ink.

Lydia's red lightning doesn't lose its' form; she doesn't lose her control. She strikes behind us where Silas certainly must be. But then her knees give out beneath her and I realize I'm falling too.

"I've gotcha," Lucas grunts. He wraps an arm ...