Page 42 of Consume Me
It rises. Slowly, impossibly, it lifts from the shelf, point first, turning in the air. Shadows peel off its surface, spilling like ink across the walls, crawling over the floor. The shape swells, twists—until it’s no longer a dagger at all.
The shadows knit themselves into the shape of a man. Atall, broad-shouldered man with skin the color of old ash and eyes like molten lava. The edges of him blur, more smoke than flesh, but the grin stretching across his face is far too real.
Emanating from him is the same cold hunger I’ve felt in my head since the day I took up the blades—now standing in front of me, corporeal and breathing.
Noctan’s body goes taut, and his scent changes to that of a wolf.
I tense, feeling caught between two threats.
The dagger—no, thethingthat was the dagger—tilts its head, studying me. “We had an agreement, Kendall.”
“How is this possible?” I breathe.
“I’ve collected more than enough power to cleave to a body, should I choose. All it took was the right spell.”
“The grimoire,” I choke out.
He smiles, blood dripping from his teeth. “I gave you ample opportunity before taking such extreme measures. Our bargain was binding, even for me, but if you won’t honor it…” His smile widens, sharp and terrible. “…I’ll just take what I want from you both.”
Chapter 13
Noctan
Kendall’s resistance to my wolf is agony, but it’s not wrong. My wolf would destroy the demon—and I can’t allow it until I know doing so won’t harm my mate. It takes every ounce of control I have to pull back the beast and shove him down rather than let him out to defend.
My inner battle costs me.
The dagger-wearing-a-man’s-shape moves first. One second, he’s standing there, grinning like this is all some kind of twisted reunion. The next, he’s on me, faster than anything made of flesh has a right to be. Muscle and shadow slam into my ribs, and I hit the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster. The impact barely registers before he’s swinging again, nails like blades aimed at my throat.
I duck, feel the air shear past my ear, and come up swinging. My fist connects with something solid, and the demon stumbles back with a snarl. Not much damage, but enough to make him pause.
It’s all I can do.
If I kill him now—if the dagger dies before we break its hold—it’ll take Kendall with it.
He knows it, too. I can see the realization in the way he fights, reckless and grinning, the arrogance of something convinced it’s untouchable.
Behind me, Kendall’s breathing quickens. “Noctan?—”
“Run,” I snap, eyes never leaving my opponent.
She doesn’t move. Of course she doesn’t.
The demon lunges again. I sidestep, grab his arm, and use his momentum to slam him into the cabinet. The wood splinters, jars rattling to the floor.
He laughs, a disgusting sound, and I snarl.
“You’re not going to win,” he hisses, voice low and dark enough to crawl under the skin.
I bare my teeth. “Neither are you.”
His gaze flicks past me to Kendall. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
He yanks free of my grip and straightens. I plant myself between them, my pulse a steady roar in my ears. “I saidrun.”
Still, she stays put.
Her stubbornness is going to get her killed.
