Page 98 of Crimson Shadows
Trust him? Is he fucking joking? “You abducted me and chained me to a pentagram!” I shriek at him, my voice high and hysterical. I’m driven purely by panic and fear, unable to process the situation rationally.
“Get away from her, Luke!”
I know that voice. I recognise it instantly, even though it’s new to me.
My dad. Randall Black.
He’s walking towards us, his footsteps heavy on the forest floor. He’s holding something that glints in the low light. A knife? The sight of the weapon sends a fresh wave of fear through me.
Blackthorn turns to face him, his body tensing as if preparing for a fight. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Randall.”
“Get away from her, Luke,” my father growls again. “I’m not telling you again.” His voice is filled with deadly aggression, a tone I’ve never heard before. Despite the situation, my stomach untwists slightly at the protective note in his voice.
“Not a fucking chance, Randall,” Blackthorn retorts. Suddenly, fire erupts from Blackthorn’s hands, the flames casting flickering shadows across the clearing. At the same time, shadows seem to bend and twist around my father, the darkness itself responding to his will. The air snaps with a magick so dark and powerful, I nearly vomit from the pressure of it bearing down on my soul.
I watch, frozen in shock and fear, unable to do anything but observe as these two men prepare to battle over me.
They clash. Trees splinter and fall as blasts of energy miss their targets, the sound of breaking wood echoing through the forest. The ground shakes beneath me with each impact, the vibrations travelling through the stone I’m lying on. The atmosphere is heavy, static, thick like soup. I can barely breathe, the air pressing down on my chest.
My mind races, trying to make sense of what’s happening. None of this makes sense. Why are they fighting? What do they want with me? I pull at the chains again, ignoring the pain as they cut into my wrists. They won’t budge, the metal asunyielding as ever. I’m trapped, forced to watch as these two powerful beings fight over me.
You’re in for it now, little bitch.
“Oh, you can shut the fuck up, massive cunt,” I growl at Crimson’s voice in my head. Even in this terrifying situation, her presence is an unwelcome intrusion.
She laughs, the sound full of amusement while I’m chained to the ground in some kind of satanic ritual.
Don’t be silly, girl. This is full-on witch powers. Pagan. The Satanists stole it.
“Gee, thanks for the fucking religious lesson, cunt. Got any ideas to get me out of here?”
She goes quiet, offering no help or advice.
“Of course,” I mutter, not surprised by her lack of assistance.
The fight intensifies, drawing my attention back to the battle raging around me. Blackthorn hurls bolts of energy that light up the clearing like lightning, the flashes momentarily blinding me. My father counters with waves of darkness that seem to swallow the light, plunging the area into brief moments of total blackness. I can’t tell who’s winning. They seem evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.
Light and dark.
Légère and Black.
I don’t know what to think. My eyes dart between the two men, trying to find some clue on how to get out of here. But I’m helpless, unable to do anything but watch and hope.
As I watch them clash again, a terrifying thought hits me. No matter who wins this fight, I’m in danger. I will always be in danger because of what I am. This realisation settles over me like a heavy blanket, smothering any hope I had of things ever going back to normal.
A stray bolt of energy from the fight strikes the ground near me, showering me with dirt and small stones. I scream, thedebris stinging my skin. I try to curl into myself for protection, but the chains hold me spread-eagled out on the ground, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
“Stop!” I yell, my voice is hoarse from screaming. “Please, just stop!”
But they don’t seem to hear me. Or if they do, they don’t care. They’re too focused on each other, on their battle over me. My pleas fall on deaf ears as the fight continues to rage around me.
I strain my ears, trying to catch snippets of what they’re saying to each other as they fight. Their words are mostly lost in the chaos of the battle, but I manage to catch a few fragments.
“This is—” Blackthorn is cut off as a bolt of magick hits him square in the chest. The impact sends him flying backwards, his body slamming into one of the standing stones with a sickening thud.
I breathe a sigh of relief as he goes down. Maybe now this will all be over.
Glancing up at Randall as he stands over me, I smile. A spark of hope ignites in my chest. “Thanks for the rescue?—”
“I’m sorry, Adelaide,” Randall interrupts me and then slams the knife into my chest, straight into my heart.
