Page 115 of Dark Fate

I'm moving again before its pal can react, slipping through the cracks between seconds. The tempo changes on my cue—slow, then fast, then slow again—leaving the Shades stumbling like two left-footed partners trying to match my flawless choreography.

There are so many!

Rhyland's gaze burns into me, alight with pride and something far more primal, as I swiftly dismantle a Shade on the verge of blind-siding Lucian.

We're enveloped in the heady scent of the earth—the rich, moist musk of upturned soil and decaying leaves caught in the throes of nature's death grip. Abruptly, Lucian collapses, his body wracked with convulsions, as the Shade releases a cloud of toxic gas.

I choke and twist the other way, retching on the soil. I hold my breath, dive back to Lucian, and pull him out of the way. The Shade sprayed some hallucinogenic as Lucian began mumbling incoherent nonsense. I gaze up as I see Rhyland flexing his fingers, and another Shade is hoisted into the air as if gripped by an invisible hand. Its limbs flail helplessly before he slams it down onto the forest floor, shattering it into pieces.

Yet the Shade begins to reconstruct itself, the wooden shards melding back together as if drawn by a dark and twisted spell of enchantment.

Shit!

"Lucian—" The smack of my hand on his cheek could've kickstarted a dead engine, all to jolt him out of his narcotic stupor. His eyes lock on me, clarity striking like a lightning bolt's comeback tour and bam! He's a vampire blur, hurling himself back with the grace of a caffeinated ballerina into the fray.

"You're welcome, jerk!" I toss over my shoulder, not pausing to see if his ego's bruised. Time is ticking, and I've got more Shade goons to introduce to my daggers. "Eyes peeled for their gas!" I yell into the bedlam, tossing a lifeline of a warning into the sea of madness to keep us from going under.

Axilya battles with ferocious determination, her form a blur of motion perfectly attuned to the rhythms of combat. She slices through limbs that regenerate as swiftly as they are severed, but she is relentless, a tireless warrior who refuses to abandon the deadly dance.

"The heart core!" I yell out to the others. "It’s on their back!"

I can't help but wonder how these tree-hugging pricks would feel about a taste of my angel fire.

My pulse becomes a war drum in my ears as I dance between the Shades—slow, twisted things groping to snare me in their gnarled claws. I drop and slide beneath one, driving my blade up to the hilt in its wooden hide. It unleashes an otherworldly shriek—my very bones seem to quake in protest. Channeling my power as I've practiced, I concentrate on setting this bastard ablaze. Sparks dance from my fingertips, erupting into a searing white inferno that engulfs the Shade, reducing it to charred remains.

A flash to my left shows Faderyn trapped in the coiled embrace of a Thicket Shade. Its twisted limbs bind him, crushing his breath.

"Faderyn!" Already rushing forward, fear grips my heart. In desperation, I focus my power, willing time to slow. The world around me syrups. I dart forward, a blur of motion.

Faderyn's face contorts in agony, each breath a ragged gasp as the Shade constricts without mercy. I pour on the speed, blades glinting, ready to hack through woody flesh to free him. But I can see the desperation in Faderyn's eyes—he knows help will come too late. Still, I race closer, refusing to abandon hope, just as Faderyn's body slows in resignation.

No! I howl inside. I will not lose him like this!

I angrily throw myself at the Shade, screaming, and my daggers carve furrows in its gnarled hide. I hack at the appendage holding Faderyn, but it's like striking oak—unyielding. I restrain my flames, afraid of scorching Faderyn in the process.

"Let him go, you bastard!" I scream. The creature regards me with glowing eyes, indifferent to my pleas. I reach over and stab in the back—hoping I hit my mark. It shrieks in rage, whipping a branch to swat me aside before it falls to the ground and withers away.

The impact is thunder—knocking the wind out of me—I hit the ground hard, breathless. Twice, seriously? That's two helpings of face-planting gourmet with a side of 'oomph' sucked right from my lungs. Faderyn drops to the ground, coughing and gasping. His eyes meet mine, filled with torment but also resolute trust.

Before I can react, I'm snared, woody limbs coiling around to pin my arms. My feet leave the ground, suspended helplessly in its clutches as they tighten like a vise, crushing breath from my lungs.

Erik's cry, "Dani—!" ends in a guttural grunt as a Shade punts him across the clearing like a rag doll. He hits the ground and rolls bonelessly, silver hair falling across his face.

Across the clearing, Rhyland's face contorts in torment. He surges forth but is battered back by two more Shades.

"Danica!" Rhyland howls across the clearing.

I gasp for air, stars bursting across my vision as the creature's grip grows ever tighter. Each breath now requires a Herculean effort, hard-won and fleeting.

Rhyland fights with savage determination to reach me, and he tries to blur, but a Thicket Shade impales his stomach, and Rhyland crumples to the ground. Though mute, I try to cry out at his anguish, feeling the phantom agony lance through my own body.

Wood—it's like kryptonite for Vampires.

My pulse pounds relentlessly, the rapid thunder of my heart desperate to sustain me. Struggling to summon my fire, my hands flicker with feeble sparks, but it's futile when air refuses to fill my lungs.

Everyone is in battle, fighting them off as they continue to close in.

His eyes, azure—wells of torment and love, beg me to hold on just a little longer as he scrambles to get up off the ground. But the darkness crowds the edges of my vision, smothering light and sound.

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