Page 50 of The Cursed and the Broken
I heard the call evenin my dreams. A strange beating of drums, pulsing in tune with the rapid thumping of my heart. Snapping my eyes open, it took a few seconds for my vision to adjust. The room was pitch black and, for a moment, my heart raced from the unfamiliar.
Dante’s arm flexed against my stomach and I relaxed, smiling softly as his weight pressed against my back, his arm curled protectively around me. He must have shifted over in his sleep. It felt so natural. I wanted nothing more than to lay there, swaddled in his warmth, lulled to a sense of safety by the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back.
His heart pumped solidly.Thump. Thump. Thump.Then the drums of Fate’s siren song picked up their frenzy, the sound drowning out my momentary peace. She was waiting. I knew only I could hear the sound. She wouldn’t want an audience, after all. No chaperones for me.
Easing my way out of Dante’s arms, I slid quietly from the bed, putting on my pants and making my way to the lounge to don my boots and cloak. Hastily braiding my hair, I took a deep breath, then ventured out into the night.
I had the sense I’d only been asleep a few hours, but without the moon or stars to map the sky above, I couldn’t be sure. The guards slept in a small huddle a few paces from the cabin, most of them snoring softly, all of them lying close to the fire crackling at the centre. I supposed it was the only source of comfort they had, though perhaps not the wisest. Still, the guards on watch needed light to see by if they had any chance of protecting us against threats.
We all knew there were creatures in this place who moved with careful claws and could see us in the pitch black, even if we couldn’t see them. Taking a leaf out of their book, I crept on silent feet past the group of sleeping men, tiptoeing behind the guard on watch.
I thought I’d made it, too, until a hand snaked out, gripping my boot heel. Jumping, I turned to see András’s face peering up at me, sleepy dust crusting his eyes. “Where are you going?” he demanded sternly.
Suppressing my irritation, I offered him a sheepish smile.Nothing to see here, just a girl about to meet a mistress of hell.“I need to relieve myself. I’ll only be just outside the light.”
Frowning, he darted up from his rucksack, immediately on alert. “I’ll accompany you.”
“András,” I sighed, feeling my annoyance rising. “Unless you want to hold my hand while I piss I—”
A low keening drowned out my words, sending shivers shooting up my neck. The sound was accompanied by another, and another, until it seemed we were surrounded by the low drone of something supernatural.
The guards roused from their sleep, eyes widening as they rose, unsheathing swords and bows and arrows. “Cultists?” one mouthed, but I shook my head.
András was by my side in an instant, green eyes focused, stance lowered and sword ready. “Do you know how to fight, Kitarni?” he asked in a low voice.
Sliding the dagger from the holster at my thigh, I smiled grimly, conjuring a floating ball of fire in my other palm. “I know a thing or two.”
Nodding, he grabbed my elbow, tugging me closer as we stood with our backs together, weapons raised. My fire blazed brighter and, from its flicker, I saw a glimpse of hooves. Two fawn legs that morphed into the soft flesh of a woman. The hooves were crusted in a black substance and I swore under my breath.
“Lidércek,” I hissed to András.Succubi. Sexual creatures who roamed the province, taking humans as their lovers. Many of the more wicked lidércek fed on the human’s blood, sometimes taking on the form of dead wives or husbands. The worst were said to prey on the lonely and drown their victim in nightmares until they wasted away.
They were seldom aggressive, usually seeking amorous pleasure in the arms of lovers, but given the forest’s afflictions—the mark of corruption visible on their hooves—I was inclined to believe they were looking for more than a lustful romp among tree trunks.
The first lidérc approached slowly and I sucked in a breath as she stepped into the light. She was one of the most beautiful creatures I’d ever seen. Long black hair flowed over her shoulders, covering a bare torso and a body of sleek curves. She had bow lips and a bone structure so rigid it might well have been carved, but somehow, the sharpness added to her allure. Her eyes, though, they were black as voids, utterly engulfed by the sickness of the woods.
No, these creatures were anything but friendly.
My skin puckered as she spoke, but her words were foreign, said with a honeyed tongue as they slipped into the guards’ ears. “What is she saying?” I asked András, but when I turned, his face was blank, eyes dreamy as he gazed upon her.
The others stepped closer to our circle and they, too, whispered sweet nothings to the men. Tugging at András’s sleeve, elbowing him in the ribs, even slapping him across the cheek did nothing to break his trance.
Sighing, I stepped around him to face the lidérc. She hissed as I approached, razor-sharp talons unfurling as her nails lengthened into daggers.
Smirking, I raised my dagger, calling the darkness inside me to the surface. Red misted around us, shrouding me in a cloud of magic, the sharp copper tang climbing my nostrils. Through the fog, her eyes narrowed into slits and she stepped back, fangs bared, clawed hands raised aggressively.
“Not today, bitch.”
I unleashed my power, sending a tunnel of fire barrelling to her stomach. Her screams reverberated through me, causing my blood to frost over as the discordant tone rang through the forest. Dread filled the cup of my stomach as the others hissed in rage, their attention turning to me.
András stumbled into my back, finally freed from whatever sex-filled fantasies the lidérc had inflicted him with. Death by sex wouldn’t have been so bad a way to go, but I gritted my teeth as my enemy approached. Not tonight.
The other men snapped from their stupor, swords now raised and their stances ready. The creatures advanced and the dance began.
I dodged a swipe of deadly claws, spinning on my feet to kick her legs out from beneath her. She tumbled to her back, only to arch her spine and kick off from the ground—right into my stomach.
The air whooshed from my lungs, nausea roiling as I doubled over, winded. I’d be lucky if my ribs were all intact and there’d be a nasty bruise from that hoofmark tomorrow—if there was a tomorrow.
Snarling, I refocused on the lidérc, sending a blast of fire hurtling toward her head. Gracefully, she bent a shoulder backwards, allowing the flames to hurdle past harmlessly. She grinned, fangs cutting a sneer, black pools glittering with malice.
