Page 1 of Strength of Desire

1

NOAH

Terror gripped my heart.

I didn’t think. I just grabbed the sword Sean held and sprinted across the gym. The moragh had a hand on Cory’s wrist, the other lifted to his face, caressing his cheek with a rot-covered claw. I’d never seen a moragh do anything like that.

Moraghin were mindless, soulless killers. They craved magic, and the bodies of those who could make magic. The bodies of witches, which the moraghin had once been, though you’d be hard pressed to see that in a moragh’s rotting, green-fleshed form.

As an incubus, Cory should have been safe. Or as safe as one could ever be in the general vicinity of even one moragh. But to be singled out like this, and for the creature not to attack immediately? It made no sense.

Cory was frozen, his face white, his right hand clenched around—was that a feather? The jacket I’d given him lay at his feet, but he’d drawn the feather out of its pocket. He stared up at the moragh, his eyes wide, mouth parted in silent horror. Some part of him must have been thinking, though, because his fist rose, and in a sudden move, he jabbed the sharp point of the feather into the creature’s left eye.

The moragh shrieked. It sounded like metal scraping against stone. The hand that had been holding Cory’s wrist went to its eye, but the one on Cory’s face clutched him tighter. The creature bent down, baring its teeth and roaring in Cory’s face.

It all happened in seconds. I was only halfway across the gym, but I could see the creature leaning in for a bite. Flames of fear licked inside my chest, crawled up my throat, desperate to get out. I was out of time. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, I raised my hand overhead and launched the sword at the moragh.

It caught the creature in the back, and its roar turned into a howl. It stumbled backwards, reaching blindly for the huge blade lodged in its midsection, still clutching at the feather in its eye. I closed the distance between us and drew my last remaining knife from where it dangled between my shoulderblades. I had to make this count.

A second scream filled the gym. I refused to look up, focused on the moragh, but a moment later something black flew through the air and attacked the moragh’s face. Was that a bird? It screeched and cawed as it went for the moragh with beak and claw.

Whatever it was, it was distracting the moragh, so I wasn’t going to complain. As the creature struggled to push the bird away, it stumbled to its knees. The sword was still lodged in its back, pulling it down, and it released its hold on Cory.

Taking the opening, I darted in and sank my knife deep into the other, non-feathered eye as hard as I could. The knife went in with a sickening crunch. I’d reached the brain.

I sighed as the thing swayed and toppled to the floor. The raven—that was what it had to be—flapped over to the pile of mats in the corner and watched the creature bleed out.

I shook my head, chest heaving. My heart was racing, my breath still coming in short, shallow gulps. My clothes and skin were soaked with blood, but none of that mattered. Right now, what mattered was Cory.

I turned to him, placing myself between him and the moragh’s oozing corpse. His eyes were down, staring at nothing. He looked dazed and a little green. I wondered if he was going to be sick.

“Did it cut you?” I asked. “Did it break your skin?”

His gaze moved up to meet mine, his gray eyes wide and scared. But he didn’t respond. He just stared at me, mouth open, nostrils flared.

“Did it break your skin?” I barked. I didn’t have time to coddle him. If Cory had been cut anywhere, had been contaminated by any of the moragh’s blood, he didn’t have much time left regardless. And if he was fine, I really needed to go find Isaac.

But urgent as that need was, I couldn’t tear myself away from Cory. Here in front of me, his body radiated a heat and energy that held me as tightly as any spell of binding. I ached to touch him.

He still didn’t respond. I growled low in my throat. If he wouldn’t use his voice, I’d just have to check for myself.

How convenient, that you suddenly have an excuse to touch him anywhere you want, observed a dry voice in the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside. I truly did need to make sure he was safe.

I stepped forward and took his face in my hands, turning his head left, then right, to inspect it. There were droplets of blood on his cheek and neck, where blood from the moragh’s eye had splattered him, but it didn’t seem to have gotten intoCory’seyes, which was the important thing. I didn’t see any puncture wounds either, no blood coming from his own body.

My hands worked down his chest, arms, and legs, covering every inch of him until I was satisfied he’d escaped unharmed. He was redder than he had been, when I was done with him, since my own hands were stained with blood. But he hadn’t been infected. Of that, I was sure.

“I think you’re good,” I said, flicking a glance back at his face. He was biting his lip.

If anything, the kid looked more scared of me now than he had before the attack. As if I were as much of a monster as the thing I’d killed. Sure, I was covered in blood, and I probably didn’t smell great, but I had saved him. A little gratitude wouldn’t have hurt.

In slow motion, his eyes slipped down to my hands, holding his own. I sucked in a sharp breath of air. I shouldn’t still be touching him, but I couldn’t make myself stop.

Cory’s very essence tugged at me. He felt sweet, and warm, and even though he was terrified, I was drawn to him. I wanted to wrap him up and promise to keep him safe. I wanted to press my lips to his, to steal his breath the way he stole mine.

I stepped back and dropped his hands, then forced myself to look away. That was the only way I could say what I needed to.

“Go to the infirmary. Get checked out.”

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