Page 48 of The Light Within

A murmur of thunder smothered Julien’s anguished groan as he stared into the black pit created by the umbraphages, a hungry maw awaiting its prey.

In a handful of seconds, it would all be over.

Then—

A flicker ofsomethingin the corner of Julien’s eye. He spun. Embedded in the parapet was a trio of dim orange lamps on a single post, their weak light stuttering. The lamppost cast a weak shadow onto the bridge’s pavement. A shadow that moved.

It grew darker, darker still, until an ebony black puddle of darkness writhed on the ground.

Their ugly, demented demon pet sprung up from the surface, fleshing out its three-dimensional body with a very catlike shake of its non-fur. It cast its eyeless head about, gaze passing straight over Julien—of course—to find its one true love, Cinn.

A molecule of hope reared its head within Julien, which he quickly shot down—what was one measly shadow cat going to do against a wall of pure evil darkness?

The cat launched itself towards them, leaping like a tiger over an abandoned motorcycle to land by Cinn’s feet. It screeched. An animalistic piercing warble, frenetic in tone. Then it dashed between Cinn’s legs, pausing in his shadow. Dissolving like sugar in coffee, it melted into the ground.

“Whatthe—” Elliot began.

The wind seemed to lessen, like the umbraphages had paused their efforts to watch with them. Cinn slowed his jerky movements, then stilled.

The darkness in the centre of Cinn’s shadow spread outward like an ink spill, clambering to fill every inch of his shape.

In one abrupt movement, Cinn stumbled forward, landing on his hands and knees and taking Julien down to the concrete with him. Smashed glass littered the road, a mosaic of shimmering shards that swiftly pierced Julien’s thigh.

He pushed the sharp pain to the back of his mind. It wasn’t important. It didn’t exist.

Cinn pushed himself up to kneel, staring down at his palms, bloodied with razor-thin cuts that created a small pool of crimson under them, quickly diluted by the rain.

“Cinn!”

Julien closed the small space between them, embedding yet more glass into his flesh. He bit the side of his cheek to distract himself, a burst of copper exploding in his mouth. He grabbed Cinn’s hands, plucking out one particularly large chunk of glass from near his left thumb.

“Ouch!” snapped Cinn, pulling his hand away.

Ignoring Cinn’s glare, Julien held his face with both hands, brought his lips to Cinn’s, pressing them together with bruising force. Cinn made a small noise of shock before he responded in turn. Impossibly, Cinn’s lips were even colder than Julien’s own. He kissed them again and again, breathing heat into them, his relief melting into the kiss. He devoured every warm exhalation of Cinn’s like it was his only substance. And in a way, that was true.

“Julien!” Elliot shouted, not sounding pleased for some reason. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

He had a point, so Julien clambered to his feet, pulling Cinn up with him. Cinn gingerly rubbed at his left knee. His jeans were shredded andblood soaked, and seeing the glass embedded in his flesh caused Julien’s thigh to throb in sympathy.

The torrent of wind streaming through the bridge had desisted. Instead, water from the Thames churned upward around them, forming a circular vortex that encapsulated them in a surreal bubble of swirling fog and turbulent currents.

They were in the eye of the storm.

The air was eerily calm, ominously tranquil.

Elliot tipped his head back, assessing. “There’s fuck all lumenmotes, and we normally have at least twenty of us for a light net, but we’ll have to try. Unless you want to…”

Julien didn’t need Elliot to finish his sentence. He was asking if Julien would draw uponhismotes. The illicit ones. They were, as usual, just within reach, their low hum his ever-present companion, begging to be channelled. As tempting as it was, the last time he’d used them, shadowrealm aside, he’d reduced a church to rubble. He had no desire to do the same to Westminster Bridge.

Regret slashed through him like a knife, closely followed by self-loathing, due to the pleading look in Elliot’s eye that he felt said,come on, save us.

“Woah! Wha—”

Julien’s head snapped to the object of Elliot’s sudden shock: Cinn’s shadow. Where before the cat had simply darkened it, when it had climbed inside or whatever the fuck it had done, now the silhouette stretched and undulated, edges trembling with an unsettling flicker. It pulsed and swelled, a monster being fed, growing larger with each heavy thump of Julien’s heartbeat.

“Cinn,” Julien croaked, a single chill running down his spine, as he remained transfixed by the shadow’s unnatural movement. He pointed behind Cinn.

Cinn spun, flinching at the sight. He raised one arm, and the shadow responded, stretching further along the ground like an oil spill. “Holy fuck.”

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