Page 10 of Broken Shadows

They will pay for this.

The growl continues to emit from me, and I distantly recognize that my brother has joined mine. A deep, menacing hum rumbles with our combined sound of discontent, echoing off the beams holding back the stone above. I jump to my feet. My witch is so godsdamn close, yet I can’t help her.

“Fuck!” I sink my claws into the tattered leather of the gurney and launch it across the room. A metal tray on wheels I hadn’t noticed earlier crashes onto its side, and blood-stained surgical tools clatter to the ground.

“Oh, shit,” Ezra says, the wheels of the blasted bed clipping his man bun as he barely ducks in time to avoid the projectile. “Unholy fuck,” he hisses. “That was a little too close for comfort.” He pats down his chest and eyes me. “Feel better?”

I stalk toward him, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and snap my teeth in his face. “There will be one less demon if you don't shut your mouth right the fuck now.”

“Truce, remember,” Ezra states, peeling my fingers away from his hoodie and gingerly plucking each one of my claws free so I don't tear the fabric. “Seriously, calm your tits. Instead of raging,” he holds up his hands, “let’s…” His gaze zeros in on something over my shoulder. Ezra jogs past me, then crouches and holds a long shard of mirrored glass aloft, his teeth glowing in an eerie grin. I bolt over to him and snatch the bit of mirror.

I twist around, noting the scratches and absence of dust on the stone floor where we stand. My lips twitch as I glare into the mirror, gripping the sharp edges so tightly it slices into my fingers and palm, and stare at a pair of men. I lean closer and note the upside-down crosses hanging from their breakable necks as they chat and sweep up bits of wood and broken mirror.

“Why are we always the ones left cleaning up after that bitch?” the taller of the two questions, tilting his head toward where I feel Evie’s signature the strongest.

“First, you know she can hear you, right? And second, ’cause we’d rather be the ones cleaning up the destruction than the poor bastards he brings for her to slaughter.” The man wielding the dustpan and gesturing wildly explains, his eyes lingering nervously on the center of the room.

The tall, destined to die slowly and painfully, man snorts. “She’s too drugged up to understand you. Anyway, do you mind?” He nods at the pile of debris. “After this, we have to go attend our other duties in the North Wing of the abbey.”

“Ugggh. Seriously, Edward needs to stop taking on captives.”

I lower the shard, then share a look with Ezra. “To the North Wing.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Lorcan

Ezra jogs toward a wooden door I must have overlooked earlier. “Let’s go this way. It’s got to be better than caving in my chest again.”

I fling open the hatch of identical design to the one in the church and climb out. Ezra leaps onto the even, clean stone floor to my right. My brows furrow at our new surroundings. Everything gleams with cleanliness in the dozens of candles’ dim lilac glow, as if we passed some sort of line of demarcation.

Ezra stares at me, his dark brows raised. “What now?” he asks, his baritone voice rumbling.

“Now, we shift. It will be much easier to sense any signatures in our demonic forms.”

“Good call,” he replies.

I close my eyes and will the shift to take hold. For a moment, it’s as if the skin of my human-like appearance stretches too taut, like a rubber band about to snap. With a relieved sigh, I embrace the dark magic swirling around and through me. My eyes flash open and I bare my sharp mouthful of needle-like teeth. Somehow, Ezra’s toothy grin is even more annoying without the human-like disguise.

“Oh c’mon, Lorcan. This could be fun if you let it. You’ve had fun before, right?” He winks, then his smile falls. “Actually, don’t answer that. Anyway, we might as well use this as a scouting opportunity, too.”

He’s right, but I’ll never admit it out loud. We need to plan every aspect, down to the most minuscule of details, in order to find and liberate Evie from this shithole. I move closer to the vast stone staircase looming before us, elaborate wrought iron designed like crawling ivy making up the banister. My shoulders draw up to my ears as Ezra steps too close behind me. Groaning, I spear my fingers into my hair. “You’re like a godsdamn gnat, always infiltrating my personal space and begging to be smacked.” He just laughs and blows on the back of my ear.

“Fucking heathen,” I hiss, elbowing him in the ribs.

Evie’s best friend must be one of the captives those fuckers mentioned. Ezra cranes his neck left and right like an owl. “Let's go,” I urge. “Stop fucking gawking and move.” Irritation coalesces around the mace of anxiety growing within me, adding a whole new level of unnecessary emotions to this cluster fuck of a day. I growl before sprinting up the vast stone staircase leading to the North Wing, taking two steps at a time.

“Jesus fuck. Slow down, jackass,” Ezra shouts from somewhere behind me.

He will never understand the desperation rendering my mind to shredded pulp or the strength it had taken to leave Evie's signature in that fucking torture chamber and go hunt these so-called captives down. A muscle in my jaw ticks as I clench my teeth, silently fuming, my shadows skating along the plethora of stained-glass windows like a cape fanning out in my wake.

My brother's obnoxious footsteps tread after me as I come upon a series of double wooden doors with iron bracing.

I walk forward, sliding my hands into my pockets, my fingers brushing the carton of cigarettes and lighter held there, then draw them out. The cherry glows violet as I inhale and narrow my eyes at Ezra, then speak, the cigarette jerking slightly with each word my lips form. “I’m not giving you one.”

His nose crinkles. “Uh, no. I don’t smoke. Nasty fucking habit.”

I smile around the death stick, careful not to let my sharp demon teeth puncture the fragile paper. “Suit yourself.” I inhale deeply, letting the soothing, warm smoke curl into my lungs. Fuck, I am so glad to be a demon. It would be a shame if these things actually killed me. The cloying, delicious nicotine laced smoke burns as I hold the breath and focus on my senses. I know I won’t smell anything in the Human Realm unless one of my bonded is near, but my demonic senses don’t rely on the classic see, feel, touch, taste, and smell. There, around the bend of the corridor, something calls to me.

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