Page 68 of A Spark in the Ash

And now, whatever happens from here on out, it's my fault. Every bit of it is on me.

I let out a demonic, darkling scream as I push my bike even harder.

It’s lucky that we’re out in the middle of nowhere. This would get so much messier if there were others around.

My stomach drops. The car that passed me earlier had to be the Kindred. Which is lucky, I guess, because I know for certain when I see taillights up ahead, it’s them that I’m looking for.

The distance between us closes. Fifty yards. Thirty. Twenty yards.

My heart is racing so fast I feel like it’s going to explode and take out the entire planet with it.

When I’m ten yards behind the car, I see a motorcycle coming toward us.

“No,” I breathe. “No, no, no!”

When I’m three yards behind the vehicle, I shift, and fly through the air.

My claws rip free from my skin. My form loses its shape, turning into shadows and smoke. I’m armed with dozens of pincers and spikes and teeth.

I roil as I sail through the air.

And then I land on the roof of the car.

I don’t waste one second of my element of surprise.

I jut out two deadly legs through both windows, grab hold of the first thing I feel, and yank them out, throwing us to the ground.

My bike loses balance, crashing as it flips side over side.

The car rockets forward, staying centered for just a few seconds before it veers off the road.

A roar unlike anything this verse has ever heard before rips from my maw as I strike and billow my shadows out.

They’re both dressed in all white, head to toe. So there isn’t an ounce of doubt that they are the ones I’m after.

I roll with the momentum we have as they both cry out. Instantly, the air is filled with brilliant white light. But I don’t slow. I’ve gotten used to the burn of an ultralight. It will take a lot more than a single touch to take me out now.

I grab the woman by the front of her shirt, roll, and launch her as hard and far as I can manage.

I don’t have time to see where she lands. I round, my eyes fixing on the man as he scrambles to his feet.

As he gathers his light, I pounce forward.

Every one of my claws faces his direction, poised and deadly.

We collide, and with satisfaction, I feel three points of contact as they sink into his flesh.

“Darkling whore,” he grinds out, our faces just an inch from each other.

The light gathers and his flames glow brighter. And he pulses, the burn searing through me as I am thrown back, rolling across the sandstone.

“Serena!”

Jaxon’s yell billows out, loud and sharp and clear.

I look over for just a moment to see him cut across the median and shift as his bike goes down to the ground.

No, no, no!

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