Page 9 of A Fury Of Shadows

The answer came to her at 4 a.m. and had her jerking upright with enough force to send Brimstone and Hellreaver tumbling onto the floor.

Tarang woke up with a startled jerk where he’d crept onto her legs.

“That’s it!” she shouted.

Brimstone picked himself up from the ground and Hellreaver woke with a snort.

Vlad burst into her room. “What’s wrong?!”

His diamond swords gleamed in his hands and his crimson eyes glowed with demonic energy.

“I—” Mae stopped and swallowed as she met his tense gaze, her mouth dry. “I think I’ve figured out a way to foil Anya’s magic!”

CHAPTER4

Nikolai’s footstepsechoed somberly in his ears as he negotiated the halls of the Dark Council. Flaming torches crackled on bare stone walls, etching his shadow on the marble floor. Despite their brilliance, the light they cast was swallowed by the perpetual gloom shrouding the castle.

It sent a chill through him.

Alastair’s feathers rustled where he perched on Nikolai’s shoulder, the crow just as uneasy. Which was a surprise, considering they were home where they belonged.

He was distracted by the sight of a group of sorcerers and witches approaching. The men and women stopped and moved aside to make way, heads lowered reverently and gazes averted to show him and his familiar the respect he deserved as an heir to the Sorcerer King’s throne.

Nikolai frowned as their steps faded behind him. Though the hour was late, the Dark Council remained as busy as ever. There was a buzz in the air. A palpable tension he could almost taste.

It was nearly four weeks to the day since he and Alastair had awoken from the diabolical spell the Witch Queen and her allies had woven to trick them into joining their side. They had still not gotten used to life back at the Dark Council.

It didn’t help that neither of them was familiar with their surroundings. Vedran had hideouts not just in Hungary, but in countries across all five continents. Their locations were unknown to the wider magic community.

Nikolai couldn’t recollect ever living in the stronghold the Dark Council was presently occupying. He clenched his jaw.

Then again, my memories are all messed up.

The Witch Queen’s face rose before his eyes. Fury flooded his veins on a hot wave as he recalled her fake tears and the lies she’d spouted to try and chain him to her side when he’d last seen her, in the ruins of a church, under a blood-red moon.

I should have ripped her cold, dead heart from her chest when I had the chance.

Hellfire Magic sparked into life upon his fingertips, unbidden. Alastair made an angry sound.

“Whoa,” someone said drily. “It’s a bit early in the day to be showing off your powers, little brother.”

Nikolai stopped and turned.

Oscar was coming up the corridor. His lynx Drabek coiled sinuously around his ankles. The familiar hissed and arched her back when they drew closer.

Alastair flapped his wings and squawked threateningly at the lynx.

“I see she still hates me,” Nikolai observed.

Oscar smiled at his curt tone. “Give her another ten years or so. You’ll soon grow on her.” He wrapped an arm around Nikolai’s shoulders as they resumed their walk, their familiars still exchanging hostile noises. “Now, how about we go see what our old man wants, huh?”

Nikolai’s lips quirked faintly. He’d missed Oscar.

Vedran was examining some documents behind a large, elegant ebony desk in his office in the southwest tower. Bar the bare necessities, the space was as austere as the rest of the castle and as cold as brass monkeys.

It wasn’t as if the Dark Council couldn’t afford to furnish their headquarters more lavishly. They had amassed immense wealth over the centuries of their existence after all. Nikolai knew it was simply that Vedran favored power over luxury.

A beautiful blonde with gray eyes stood staring out of a window next to the Sorcerer King, the wisps of hair that had escaped her pony tail fluttering gently in the freezing breeze that accompanied the light snow flurries falling outside.

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