Page 99 of A Blackened Bond

I crouch down low, clutching the spiked whip and taking a steady stance as the blowback from the explosion whips around me and through the room, destroying all the crates and posters in the process.

Smoke encases the room, making it hard to see or even breathe properly. I heighten my senses, listening for movement, and hear three sets of heavy footsteps entering the room and heading toward Erving’s direction.

“Grab him quickly, and let’s move,” one of the gruff voices calls.

I guess they didn’t realise I was here yet.

I let the metal unravel in my hands, still crouched low and hidden by the smoke billowing around the room.

As soon as it unravels, sharp-scale like spikes open up down its spine, looking like they would cause more damage than any blade.

I flick it outward, getting a quick feel for the new weapon before I gradually stand up and roll my shoulders out, a grin lacing my lips as my eyes narrow toward the three large men.

Erving is still lying on the ground, his hand covering his head and eyes closed tight as he winces. A trickle of blood drips down his forehead as the first figure reaches for him.

I twirl the whip above me once before unleashing it toward him. Its spikes instantly lash out and latch onto its first victim, catching his neck and wrapping around him instantly.

I pull it back toward me, adding a bit more strength for the larger figure, as a loud grunt falls from his lips. The sound of gurgling soon follows, and then a heavy thump to the floor.

I drop the whip to the floor, the spine tangled around its victim’s neck as I slink over toward the weapons wall and grab the two ornate daggers.

“What the fuck?” the most prominent figure of the three barks, his head whipping back and forth before he reaches down and drags Erving from the ground with a hard pull.

A pained grunt leaves his lips as he dangles two feet off the ground by his shirt, the brute roughly holding him while glaring around the room, trying to see through the smoke. I can see his golden pupils flickering as he tries to catch me.A shifter, then.

“Clear it. We need to find the one who did that to Beta Five.”

The smaller man beside him nods before waving his hand and chanting—the warlock of the group.

The smoke begins to disappear slowly, but before I’m fully visible again, I dart behind them, striking the warlock just as the smoke fades completely.

He's caught off guard, twisting around too late as I stab the two daggers in my hands into each side of his neck.

A pained cry leaves his lips, blood pouring from the wounds as I pull the daggers back out.

The giant shifter jumps back with Erving still in his grasp as the warlock falls to the ground in front of me.

“A tiny girl?” the shifter yells, gripping Erving tighter as he glares down at me. “Youtook out my group?” He scoffs. “I won’t be so easy.”

Erving takes that moment to begin to thrash in his grip, struggling to break free. I throw one of my blades while he’s distracted, aiming for the spot between his eyes, but he twists around, dodging it with ease while still dragging a thrashing Erving with him.

Erving extends sharp nails from his fingertips and digs them into the shifter, who growls down at him before flinging him into the bundle of broken monitors behind them.

Erving lets out a pained howl as I lunge forward, gripping the last blade in my hands as I attack the overgrown brute.

He twists around, expecting my attack, and whips out his own Bowie. The blades clash as we move back and forth, his attacks strong but much slower than Gadriel’s.

He whips out another blade as I jump back from his last attack and throws it at me. I stop it with the blade in my hand, but its force knocks the weapon from my grip.

A dark chuckle rolls from his lips.

“Playtime is over.” He dashes toward me as I leap for the metal whip handle on the floor, its spine still twisted around the first figure’s neck.

I grab it, tumbling to the ground as I dodge the shifters Bowie aimed at me. I use my full strength, unravelling the spikes embedding in the corpse, and thrust the body toward the shifter.

I manage to push him back slightly, and Erving makes his own move. While he's distracted, he summons some sort of magic to wrap around the shifter’s feet, which has him stumbling backward.

I spin the whip around before letting it loose toward the shifter. He raises his hand to stop it unconsciously, but it wraps around him, pulling his hand into his face as the spikes embed themselves in his skin.

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