Page 31 of Lunar Desires
Itchy fingers. Aching palms.
“Give up, witch,” they said together. “This is the end.”
I mean, at the rate they were coming, I’d have to tire at some point. I couldn’t keep this up all day.
Pfft. We’d see about that!
Itchy fingers. Aching palms.
Pull, shove, spin, slam. Rinse and repeat. The more shades I took down, the more their numbers increased, like the heads of the Hydra from Greek mythology. Only more irritating.
Itchy fingers. Aching palms.
“Riley!” Drake called.
His voice gave me a sharp slap, drawing a cry from my throat. I launched a shade into another, the pair of them going down like skittles.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
“Die, witch!”
I spun to meet the attack, jumping back with almost perfect timing, the shade’s talons tearing through the remains of my already ruined jumper, nicking my flesh. It drew blood, throwing more fuel on my fury.
Itchy fingers. Aching palms.
The arsehole got catapulted into the wall, and I broke into a run, flinging shades all over the place, desperate to see Drake, furious at being held up by these beasts.
And so angry athimfor dragging me here.
A storm popped off inside me, swallowing any sense of fear or panic. I practically heard thunder in my head, lightning forking behind my eyes. My fury became violent wind whipping up the sea, ripping down trees, tearing across the land.
These monsters wouldn’t have me or Drake.
This would not be the end.
Itchy fingers. Aching palms.
“I’ll kill you all!” I screamed.
My hands ignited with blue light, every bone, every inch of skin on itchy fire.
What the hell?
Collective hissing, not attacks. The shades backed away, as confused as me.
I held up my hands, the magic moving to concentrate at the center of my palms. It drew the shape of a blue crescent moon on each one, sparkling on my skin.
“This…this is?—”
An image of a crescent moon in a night sky, as blue as the one on my palms, snared my mind in a vision and bathed me in lunar power. New power.
What does this mean?I asked it.
Outside of the vision, back in the tunnel, my arms shot forward, palms facing outward. Beams of blue light shot from my hands. They broke apart, becoming lasers, each one skewering a shade.
