Page 5 of Cursed Shadows

His clean-shaven face is pale and his hair, thick, dark and cut short to his scalp, reveals dark gray streaks along his temples. A narrow white scar bisects his thick eyebrows, ending just above his left eye. His eyes are the most unique shade of blue I’ve ever seen—almost violet. He’s unarguably stunning. Beautiful, even. Handsome is almost too masculine a word for his features, yet there’s something so fierce and dangerous about him that kills any inkling of sensitivity anyone might otherwise imagine him possessing.

When our eyes met over the sounds of Dragan and Ferchad’s harsh exchange, I sensed something. A desire, deep within him. Not the same desire I recognize when others look at me; this wasn’t sexual or physical in nature. It was more like he was searching for something, and thought I knew where to find it.

His eyes, when they first met mine, communicated a longing, a desire so profound it briefly blocked the chaos around me. The world settled, temporarily, as we continued to look ateach other, until the moment was broken when Dragan stood and shook the table. But there was something there, no doubt.

My revenant.

It isn’t my thought. Not my words. I can’t make heads or tails of what the words mean, especially when my still-clouded mind is overcome with fear.

Seeing Baron now, my mind hums and for a moment, I think I recognize him. But I don’t understand how that could be; I’ve never seen him before. At least, I don’t think I have, though my memory is unreliable at best. I feel close to him all the same, something which baffles me.

The feelings of closeness I felt and continue to feel towards Baron aren’t my own. I’m fairly convinced they belong to the woman whose voice is inside my head. Whoever she is and whatever she wants, she’s clearly roused by Baron’s presence. Whether for good or bad, I can’t tell. All I know is that his appearance here has created a reaction I haven’t yet experienced from the disembodied voice.

In my head, I feel an anxious excitement. It makes my palms sweat and makes focusing on the drama unfolding before me almost impossible.

***

DRAGAN

Baron looks at us curiously, but there’s no sense of recognition in his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asks, eyeing me cautiously.

“Who are we?” I repeat, but Cambion interrupts.

“You were dead!” he says, shaking his head. “We watched—”

“You’re speaking too loudly,” interjects the vampire in a hushed tone. “It’s not safe for you here, so this discussion will have to wait.”

But he’s not looking at Cambion and he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at Eilish, and something about the intensity of his gaze unsettles me even more than his presence in the first place.

“Fuck speaking too loud,” I growl.

Baron turns on me and gives me the same expression of pure impatience he’s given me hundreds of times… well, before he died, that is. “Your bravado will not serve you here.”

“You have explaining to do,” I inform him.

He simply nods, but I doubt it’s because he’s agreeing with me. Instead, he looks over each shoulder. “We need to get out of here, and fast. Ferchad is merely an insect and you’re in the realm of monsters.”

I feel Eilish move closer to me once more and I reach out, draping her with my arm, pulling her into me. I don’t miss the expression of surprise that flashes across Cambion’s face before it is quickly eclipsed with shock and disbelief when he looks back at our former friend.

I, too, am still completely shocked, but Baron is right. Coming here was a mistake.

“There’s an inn close by called “The Lion’s Claw”. I know the owner; you’ll be safe there,” Baron suggests.

“What about Ferchad?” I ask. “He may be an insect among monsters, but he likely knows some of them.”

“Exactly,” says Baron. “Which is why we must move. Now.”

We file out of the tavern through a back door that leads into a dark alley, fast on Baron’s tail. But as we exit the low stooped door, I see Ferchad waiting for us—this time, with company. Standing behind him is a troll, ten feet tall. Its egg-shaped head is covered with sun spots and the creature is naked except for a too-small loin cloth. In its hand is a club covered with rusted nails.

“I told you you was makin’ a mistake, Revenant,” says Ferchad triumphantly.

Baron looks from him to the troll and then back to us. Even on a good day, we’d have a difficult time beating a fully-grown troll, but our group is bone tired.

I crouch low, my wings extending behind me as I prepare for a fight. I won’t let Ferchad touch a hair on Eilish’s head. And I’m more than sure she’s the first thing on his mind, owing to the way he keeps looking at her.

I’m surprised when Baron suddenly vanishes into a puff of shadow. He’s there one second and the next, he’s not.

---