Christian | Issac | Elia
Elia could watch the other witch's defenses come apart; the talisman shattered, and the flavor of his magic changed on the back of her tongue, a strong wash of pain and distress coming through in sharp, bitter flavors. A flicker of her power saw the shadows pull closer to him, cool and soothing, supportive. She couldn't offer him the same healing that she was able to manifest for herself; it was too tied in to her immortality.
At the same time, Elia drew more heavily on the dark energy that the area was alive with. Kennet had said he wanted it used up; she could do that, at least to a point. It would tire her to channel so much, but clearly they needed something. It rolled out from her like cool waves of dark water, spreading further over the area, reaching for the source of the disturbance. This was more than spirits, there was something more, something greater playing with them.
And she had the impression that this was just a piece of its game. Her power reached, stretching past its normal limits, fueled by the vast amount of dark energy that the area contained. She could feel Naamah's familiar, lusty power. And then Caleb's, dark and violent. Callum's, barely restrained. Catherine's was different, much lighter in nature than the others, and difficult for her to read... but she had no trouble at all sensing the distress in the werewolf and the Hellhound. Their flavors bloomed on her tongue, acrid with fear.
"The Seer," she snapped at Christian. "Go to her. Go now. We'll be just behind you."