Page 27 of Immortal Sins
It cocks its head, more insect than human.
I refrain from blinking not to miss a movement, desperately pushing my magic forward.
A blade slices the night, and the monster screeches and skitters out of view. Its clicks become quick and impatient.
Two for one. How interesting.
A Seelie and his lover, perhaps?
Flynn’s Obscurion finds nothing but shadows. The blue-tinged knife gleams in the darkness.
“Unseelie scum. I’ll gut you myself.” Flynn scours the pitch-black space for his enemy, his knees bent, and his arms spread out, ready to strike.
Yes. You were meant to die together. Your fears are so deliciously similar.
Screwing my lids shut, I concentrate on my breathing and summon Beth’s advice from my memory. Inhale. Exhale. Slice the creature in two like the apple and the banana. I’d practiced my infernal orbs again a handful of times since that night with Onyx and cut down quite a few trees. It should be easy, but fear almost consumes me as the Unseelie sinks its long nails into Flynn’s back and sends him flying head-first into the hay bales.
He howls in pain. The Unseelie latches onto him and licks the fresh wound. A hum of unadulterated pleasure gurgles through the hayloft as it chews on a piece of Flynn’s flesh.
My blood stills.
I’ll peel you slowly, Seelie boy. One strip at a time.
The monster munches on Flynn like he’s nothing more than a bag of chips, and I explode into a fury of purple sparks. My magic claws its way across the wood planks. I ram the creature with it, praying to the Dark Gods that it doesn’t kill Flynn in the process.
With a sickening crunch, the Unseelie falls over the edge of our hideout to the ground below, split down the middle.
The wave of paralysis lifts instantly. Our horse friend below neighs and stomps, suddenly agitated, and I sigh in relief—I thought it might be dead.
“Where did it go?” Flynn wobbles to his feet and examines the walls and ceiling like he expects the Unseelie to dart out of the cracks at any moment.
I light the barn with a fresh ball of fire and check the corpse again. “It’s dead.”
“Dead?” He throws his knife from one hand to the other.
I point to the floor below us. “Yes. What was it?”
With a heavy breath, Flynn sheathes his weapon. “A peeling hag.” He reaches helplessly for his back.
Drenched with blood and ripped to shreds, his shirt does little to hide the extent of his injuries, but none of them are life-threatening—not for an immortal Fae. A whip would have left a cleaner mess, though. I grip the black nails embedded deep in his flesh and pull them out.
Fists balled at his sides, Flynn sinks to his knees in the hay. “Ow. Careful. I feel like my nerves have been dunked in acid.”
“Fire didn’t work, so I used infernal magic. It sort of got away from me.”
The intensity of his stare sparks goosebumps on my skin. “Let’s be real, your fire magic could barely cook a meal. I thought you’d just juiced up on infernal magic, appealed to some dark patron for a fix to beat Cole and attract attention. I didn’t know you had itinsideyou.”
Shit.Flynn doesn’t know I’m half-demon, and while I’m relieved that Cole hasn’t spilled the beans, I want to keep my secret. “It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a fucking big deal. You killed an Unseeliewith your powers.”
I roll my eyes, trying to make light of it. “And you think I’m weak, I get it.”
He shows off his knife. “This metal is theonlyweapon that works against them. They are incredibly resistant to magic. If you’ve got enough infernal magic in you to kill an Unseelie…”
I scoff. “I’m sure someone used infernal magic on them many times before.”
“It’s not an incredibly popular strain of magic.” He checks his arm and winces at a nasty cut in his left bicep. “You almost ripped my arm off.”
