Page 60 of Poison Sun

We’re in a secluded glade, surrounded by ancient trees that watch us with unseen eyes. Nothing nearby is moving—at least, not yet—which hopefully means the shadow souls still haven’t tracked me down.

With no time to waste, the group spreads out, forming a protective circle around me and Damien. Cassandra and Yannick position themselves with their backs to us, eyes scanning the darkness.

We stay like that for about fifteen minutes.

“I don’t like this,” Abigail whispers. “It’s too quiet.”

As if on cue, the shadows around us surge to life.

They emerge from the darkness in numbers that make my heart sink, their forms shifting and twisting in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible.

Damien’s at my side, his sword drawn and ready.

“Stay close,” he tells me, a steady beacon in the approaching chaos.

Our vampires are trained with both weapons and air magic, and they defend themselves with supernatural swiftness, running their blades through the chests of the shadow souls and melting them into puddles of goo on the grass.

As instructed, I don’t move away from Damien. And much to my relief, when I reach for my magic, its warmth pulses at my fingertips. It’s weaker than before I drank the potion, but it’s there—my light in this sea of darkness.

But there are so many of them. And it’s not long until they break through the vampires standing protectively around me and Damien and launch themselves toward me, their spindly fingers ready to wrap themselves around my neck and hold me down so they can suck my soul dry.

And then, without a second to spare, I push my magic outward in a bright light that slices through the shadows to hold off as many of them as possible.

Amber

I don’t let the blast of light go too far—I don’t want it to accidentally hit the vampires who are continuing to fight around us—but I get it far enough to hold back the shadow souls long enough to grab the daggers in my boots.

With a battle cry, Damien launches himself toward a shadow soul that’s getting too close, the wind at his heels and his sword a blur of silver.

He takes down not just that shadow soul, but another one near it, faster than I can blink.

I prepare myself for at least one of them to launch at me, but they don’t.

Weird.

Maybe they’re scared of my sun magic?

That’s the only thing that makes sense.

Looks like I’ll be going on the offensive instead of the defensive.

Without a second thought, I throw myself at one nearby, dagger poised to sink into its chest.

It darts away, escaping the blow. But it doesn’t charge at me as expected.

Instead, I watch as Cassandra gets it from behind, a knowing smirk on her face as the shadow soul disintegrates between us.

“Nice try,” she says to me. “But it looks like we still have a lot of work to do when we get back.”

I have no time to reply before she’s back in the fray, fighting off two shadow souls at once with her magic and her sword.

A quick glance around shows that the others are doing a good job holding their own. The shadow souls are good fighters, but they’re victims to their base instincts—the need to feed on souls, no matter what.

The vampires are swift, cunning, and calculating, many of them with decades or centuries of training under their belts. We might be outnumbered, but we have precision and experience on our side.

“Amber, behind you!” Damien’s warning cuts through my thoughts as he takes on multiple shadow souls at once.

I spin, releasing my magic toward the approaching figure.

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