Page 80 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

Without realizing it, I had held back with Bellamy and his Trusted, scared to hurt them while practicing. Now, I had no such qualms. I wanted to hurt this demon. He was the perfect image of everything and everyone who had beat me down. This would be my chance to show myself just how strong I could be. To remind myself that in the end, I needed no one.

That I was no one’s but my own.

None of the others moved, opting to watch as we struck at one another, swords slashing through air and steel colliding. Each time he thought he had me, I adjusted just in time. He became sloppy with fury at my ability to hold him off, his pride becoming his downfall.

I simply laughed, enjoying the way my arms burned and my power hummed. Never before had I unleashed myself this way, controlled but free, like a waterfall. For the first time, I was flowing as I had always been meant to, and it was addictive.

Moods spiked at the sight of my growing advantage, and I felt the exact moment that O’Malley’s group decided they might need to intervene. Which sadly meant my fun had ended.

I turned in a circle, whipping my foot around to catch the back of the demon’s calf just as he had stepped back. He stumbled, crashing to the snow. As quickly as I could, I took my sword and stabbed it through his stomach, pushing until I felt it stick into the dirt below the snow. His scream was horrific, and also somewhat pleasing, sending birds flying from nearby trees. I threw my power out, grabbing hold of the minds of all sixty-three of O’Malley’s group.

Stay, I told them. Watch.

None of them moved, though their eyes bore into me as I unsheathed my dagger from my thigh. I pressed the tip lightly against O’Malley’s cheek, running it down his skin softly in time with a falling tear.

Did his victims cry as well? Did the slaves he bought, sold, and transported beg for a mercy he would not give?

His mind seemed to suggest he enjoyed their pain, relished in the way they grew weaker. He had taken many professional contracts, but when he transported goods and defended territories, he also committed atrocious crimes. His death would be a justice.

I leaned into his face, smelling heavy tobacco and nearly gagging. “Do remember my face as you burn, demon.”

With speed I had not known I possessed, I took my dagger, cut a hole in his trousers, and sliced off his pitiful penis. He howled, vomiting from the pain and choking on it. But I was not done. I took the severed member and shoved it into his mouth until I heard him gag. The runes on my weapons seemed to glow, as if feeding on his terror.

Then I gripped my sword and yanked with all my strength, ripping it from his gut in one smooth motion. O’Malley sobbed in the snow, one hand freeing his mouth and the other holding his upper wound. Just to make sure I followed through with Bellamy’s promise, I shoved both of my thumbs into his eyes, digging until a loud pop sounded.

He screamed until his voice became rough, cracking and breaking. I looked up, staring down his lackeys. As I released them, I pointed my bloody sword their way, eyes wild with wrath and eagerness.

“Think twice about your choice, now,” I warned.

Some part of me deep inside begged them to lay down their weapons.

Of course, they did not. Instead, they charged me, screaming. I rolled my eyes, though I would not pretend like I was not eager for more. Behind me, Bellamy and his Trusted snapped out of their stunned daze. They too pushed forward, all eight of us rushing to meet the far larger group ahead. My well of power was nowhere near depleted, but it had lost a significant amount after holding them all still and forcing them to watch.

Still, I was ready when two males raised their swords to me. I swung, and then I was dancing, channeling everything I had learned these last two months. I cut through two, five, then six of them, blood soaking my white blouse. Each life I took made the runes on my sword glow brighter, until it was nearly as captivating as the demon light being wielded against me.

When someone landed a blow with shadows as sharp as steel, slicing a narrow cut to my side, I roared. I was not weak. I would never be weak again.

Sterling, Mia, Xavier, the two demons who had attacked me in Haven, even Bellamy flashed through my mind. Never. Again.

I ducked out of the way of a stream of light, rearing back and swinging to behead the demon. Her blood splashed across my face, momentarily blinding me. Wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve, I steadied myself.

Behind, another demon came for me. This time, I allowed the fight to last, eagerly slicing him throughout our battle. When I heard Winona howl in pain, I shoved my sword through his face, kicking his body off with the heel of my boot.

Then, with little care for whatever morals I might still possess, I grabbed onto every enemy mind and slowly squeezed. One by one they fell to the ground, similar to the way the afriktors had. I watched with glee as they screamed, begging for help. Suffering was the least they deserved.

Inside, I felt that part of me, the one that had wanted to be better, tell me to stop. End them quickly and be done with it, the voice seemed to say. I wanted to argue, to resist and rain fire down upon the crying demons. I wanted them to feel every ounce of pain I had in my life, to know that, in the end, it was a foolish princess who bested them.

A hand on my shoulder brought my mind back into focus. I looked back to find Bellamy there, face unreadable and palm warm. I shuddered at the contact, at the way it grounded me.

“I see you, Asher. All of you. And I am not afraid,” he whispered to me.

Just like that, I was reminded of who I was. Who I wished to be.

I shattered their minds.

All but O’Malley, who Bellamy then urged Ranbir to go to.

“Heal him only enough to speak,” he ordered. Ranbir nodded, rushing over and bending to place his hands on the demon’s stomach, eyes raking over his mutilated genitals and shivering.

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