Page 51 of The Cursed and the Broken
Beside me, András grunted as he kept his enemy at bay, shredding her piece by piece with precise slices. Blood splattered around us in arcs of black and red, converging in glittering puddles upon the leaf-strewn ground.
A guard fell, his screams piercing the clearing as a lidérc slammed all ten talons deep into his chest, twisting those blades, piercing his organs. Blood bubbled from his lips and the last breath hushed from his body a moment later.
Rage coursed through me and I turned my attention back to my own foe. Baring my teeth, I swivelled my blade so the tip shifted between my fingers. Breathing deep, I let it fly, needing only a second to take aim. It flipped through the air, sinking home into her heart.
She was dead before she hit the ground, black eyes unseeing as her body crumpled.
Sighing in relief, I looked to the guards. It was chaos. Shouts echoed as they battled, claws soaked in scarlet, blades blackened with the ooze of blood. Two of our men were down, but the odds tipped in our favour.
Through the throng, I saw Dante, his movements elegant, his swordsmanship precise. The shouts and rings of steel must have roused him from sleep and his hair was still swept in messy waves, his doublet left forgotten. Not that he needed it. Dante moved as if born for battle. Sleek and swift, a deadly assassin wrought from muscle and the nectar of the gods.
His eyes locked on mine as he moved and the breath left my lungs. Seeing him like this had my heart surging in my chest, fearful of seeing him hurt. My power swelled, fingers curling into claws. It took all my willpower not to unleash the dark magic, to watch them allburn. But I couldn’t risk hurting him or any of the others. I dropped my left hand to my side, suppressing the emotions roiling through me.
I shouldn’t have worried. In the next sweep he decapitated a lidérc, immediately moving on to his next victim.
Drums pounded against my skull again as Fate demanded my attention. Right. Growling in frustration, I turned on my feet, ducking into the darkness and away from the battle still raging behind me.
Someone called my name and, vaguely, I noted the worry in that tone—the fear.
But Fate was calling, and one did not make the mistress of destiny wait.
Picking my way through the undergrowth, I cursed the dark and gods forsaken place. Without my fire I would be blind, but even the crackling flames of my fireball did little to light the way. The darkness swallowed me and the branches clawed at my hair, tangling within the knots.
Sighing, I stumbled on, the drums pounding harder and harder until I feared my head might split open. Pain exploded behind my eyes and I swallowed the rising sickness in my throat. When the sounds of steel and shouting faded, I at last stepped into another clearing.
The grey trunks of dead trees encircled me and even the grass beneath my feet was blackened. The whole place was lifeless. The hairs on my neck rose as I approached a pool in the middle of the clearing, its depths sending no reflection back at me.
Curious, I bent over, studying the ripples of its surface. Black smoke erupted and, yelping, I jumped backwards, raising my fireball higher in defence. I’d left my dagger in the dead lidérc, leaving only a small handful of knives at my belt.
Something appeared behind the smoke and I craned my neck, trying to spy the source. I needn’t have bothered. My instincts screamed to turn and run and my blood went cold, the familiar prickling of the supernatural crawling over my skin.
The smoke dissipated and, at last, I saw her.
Slender ankles and legs standing on the body of water. An hourglass figure wreathed in black satin, the cut of the dress leaving little to the imagination as it clung to her curves and revealed much of her glowing flesh.
Her light skin was golden, her lips painted red and piercing blue eyes lined with kohl. Golden hair in an angled slice framed her face and smoke clung to her body like a second skin.
Her lips cut a sharp grin as she gazed upon me, stepping over the water’s surface to stop mere inches from my face. “Darling,” she purred. “I’ve waited so long to meet you. My, you are beautiful.”
She glided around me, lifting a hand to clench my hair, to sniff my neck, to run a bejewelled finger clad in gold and black gems along the exposed flesh of my throat and the dip between my decolletage. With a sharp press she extracted a perfect gem of my blood, lifting it to her lips and curling a tongue around it.
I said nothing, did nothing as she did so. My body recoiled from her, every cell inside me protesting her presence. Death was an ass, but at least he had manners and wit. He had little business with the living, only collecting that which is already dead. But Fate …
I’d never been so terrified of anything in my life. Her aura screamed nightmares and ruin, the end of all things. Power oozed from her in pulsating waves. Every careful sweep of her eyes sent invisible spiders skittering across my skin. But I would not let her see my terror, would not shiver or shrink before her.
Could she kill me if she desired? Was she allowed to intervene in middling affairs? As the weaver of time, I supposed not, otherwise she wouldn’t need me in the first place.
She closed her eyes, relishing the taste of me upon her tongue,moaning. It sickened me to my core.
“You, my dear, taste delicious. The power running through your veins, well, I haven’t felt that since …” Fate drifted off, lips pursed in thought. Still I said nothing, waiting for a question, a command, anything that would get me away from her as soon as possible.
When I could stand it no longer, the words burst from behind gritted teeth. “What do you want?”
Her lips twisted in a cruel sneer. “Everything.” A tremor racked through my body. “You are a child born of blood magic. It runs through your veins, filling you with purpose. You’ve felt its call, yes? The song of violence?”
Begrudgingly, I nodded. I’d felt it keenly. The need to hurt someone. To destroy. It worsened when anger struck hard and fast and lately I wasalwaysangry. I’d almost loosed it upon the lidércek, but I didn’t understand my limits yet, didn’t know if such power could be tamed so as not to hurt others in the crossfire.
Fate’s eyes were sapphires. Hard and cold and empty of warmth. “I have need of that power.”
