Page 5 of Lunar Diamonds
Nina growled, bringing me out of my flashback.
“Shithead,” she said.
The shade’s hissing weakened my knees. Fear like sickly slime oozed through my body, paralyzing me. Every time I saw one, I returned tothatnight, wondering if my attacker was back for one more bite. To peel my flesh strip by strip, chew on my sinew, suck the marrow from my bones.
Dive into a Riley Croft buffet, arsehole!
A silly idea, but one that plagued my dreams.
Damn this crippling fear. Damn these shadowy arseholes.
Damn Kane Kingwood for creating them.
A second shade landed in the workroom, facing the corridor leading to the staff room and the first floor of the library where we kept all the non-fiction.
I almost keeled over.
Two of them. Just great. Thanks to the universe for putting this in my path today. Cheers. I really needed that.
Ugh.
Nina cracked her knuckles. She might not be able to shift into wolf form outside of a full moon, but she possessed some skull-cracking strength. I celebrated her presence with an internal whoop.
The first shade charged at her, springing into the air with its claws poised to render flesh from bone. She dodged and countered its attack with a vicious right hook, connecting with the shade’s head so hard it spun through the air before smacking the window, leaving spidery cracks on the glass.
It crashed into the staff computers along the window, thrashing aggressively, tearing through wires and paperwork, knocking the desks over.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
The Shade Horns blared to life like something out of a fantasy movie’s big battle sequence.
I swallowed, shaking my hands as if to disperse my fear. Every instinct told me to run, my bladder about to give up the ghost.
No. Stand your ground…
The second shade darted into the corridor as the first shade went for Nina again.
Riddled with fear, I listened to the shade slam itself into the door leading to the non-fiction section, the screams beyond the wood and glass making me wince.
I had to help. I had to do something, not be freaked-out jelly.
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
A bite to the thigh wasn’t the worst thing to happen. There were survivors who’d lost arms and eyes and even every limb in some cases. But they carried on. They didn’t let shades diminish their spirits. I’d read their interviews, watched countless documentaries, a little ashamed of myself for not being more like them.
The night of my attack, there’d been an unsolved murder at a house near my mum’s. A family of five slaughtered in their beds. Not by shades, but a shadow witch. So, yeah, I really had to suck it up.
Easier said than done. Trauma wasn’t easy to shake off. Sometimes I could be strong, other times I fell apart. Too scared to function. And I dangled over that pit right now.
I have to help.
A crash thundered in the corridor, signaling the destruction of the doors. Terrified screams tore through the air, the shade’s raspy voice announcing everyone’s doom.
“Blood for us,” it said.
Dammit.
A third shade landed in the workroom. Nina grunted, barreling past me to deliver a flying kick, followed by a twirling to uppercut the first shade.
