Page 104 of Stroke of Shadows

Two separate feet caught him in the stomach with the strength much higher than normal humans. It forced the air from his lungs, followed by an audible crunch. Ignoring the pain, Sythe twisted, catching the left Skull and using the fucker as a shield to block the hit of the other.

A flare of awareness, quick enough for him to throw himself out of the way as Bishop tossed another ball of arcane in his direction. It knocked into the Skull on the right, sending him careening into the wall hard enough he became lodged.

Sythe grinned at the sight, laughter bumbling up his throat before he noticed the cracks that formed. They spread from the struggling Skull, still stuck within the concrete wall.

The entire building creaked, crumbling.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Sythe reached for the first Skull, using his knife to slash across his chest. The blade sunk deep, but there was no reaction. Not even a grunt as the Skull turned to elbow Sythe in the jaw, the momentum wedging the knife beneath one of his ribs.

“What the fuck?” Sythe yanked his arm back, having to use more force than expected to dislodge the weapon.

The Skull’s rib broke, and still there was no reaction.

“Sorry about this, but you’re on the wrong team.” Using the same knife, he slit the Skull’s throat. Blood splattered, hotter than normal. Hot enough to scald, yet the Skull stood calm. As if he hadn’t just had his carotid artery disconnected.

Not much gave Sythe the creeps, but maintaining eye contact with the guy you just slit the throat of was uncomfortable, even for him.

Bishop disappeared, only to appear towering behind the Skull. “Tell me again about the Guardians. How you’ve been designed to kill my kind.”

A pain in Sythe’s chest, Bishop’s nails digging in as his other hand wrapped once more around his throat. He’d punched through the Skull’s torso.

“You’re weak.”

The Skull gargled, looking down at the protruding arm. Arcane erupted in a burst of red, eating away at the surrounding flesh.

“Pathetic.”

His nails dig deeper, and Sythe let out a curse. The pain radiated in waves, more powerful than anything he’d ever felt before.

“A disappointment.” Bishop tutted, his arcane consuming the Skull until he was nothing but dust at their feet. “Did you honestly believe you could ever take on someone like me?”

Sythe’s lungs burned, every breath a struggle. “No,” he hissed. “Not alone, anyway.”

Chapter 36

Sythe

Avicious snarl, one loud enough to draw Bishop’s attention. His red eyes widened, the first sign of hesitation, and before he could react Sythe struck the knife into the side of his neck.

Bishop jerked back, releasing his grip, and Sythe crashed to his knees. Familiar blue-black fur streaked with silver appeared, Jax’s scar prominent even in his beast form. He was the second largest out of the Guardians after Riley, his beast’s shoulders the height of a small car.

Sythe was man enough to admit that the beast looked absolutely terrifying.

Jax showed his teeth in threat, distorting the scar that started above his eye, finishing on his upper lip of his wolfish snout. His markings pulsed with white light, a perfect echo of the tattoos from the man repeated in coarse fur.

He stalked closer to Bishop, who retreated against the back wall.

‘You really were going to wait until the last minute to call us, weren’t you?’ Axel’s disgruntled voice echoed in his head.

Sythe tried to laugh, but all he managed was a strangled sound as he sucked in a lungful of air. ‘You know me,’ he replied the same way. ‘Always trying to be the hero.’

Hands under his arms, pulling him to his feet.

“Fucking idiot,” Axel muttered before handing Sythe a sword.

Lucifer appeared beside them with a static pop. “Fuck yes, Jax is in beast mode!”

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