Page 194 of The Legacy of Ophelia
“Curious,” the Angel’s voice echoed from the rooftop. “I seem to have found some of those we need. They’ll be coming for you.” Magic prickled along my skin again, my North Star tattoo heating. “In the meantime, I will take these two.”
With a shrug and a beat of his powerful wings, Thorn launched into the air, a mad cackle following him. Tolek casually strolled after the Angel, ignoring the rubble of the courtyard and the sputtering fountain. And Barrett?—
Barrett ceased his quaking, rising to his feet. Dull, lifeless eyes looked at us, nothing recognizable in that stare.
And he turned to follow Tolek.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Santorina
There werecreatures moving through the shadows. They jumped from patch of darkness to patch of darkness, disappearing and reappearing as if they were made of nothing more than air. Each time they vanished and popped back up behind a warrior, great talons or teeth the length of my hand ripped into their next victim.
“What are they?” I whispered to Lancaster.
I’d stayed with him and Mora because each time I tried to follow a new threat, the damn string in my chest rioted violently. Now, we stood back-to-back in the center of Xenovia’s art district, sculptures towering on either side of the wide streets. We kept out of reach of their shadows. I gripped a dagger in each hand, and Lancaster wielded his impossibly large sword.
“Demons of some kind,” Lancaster whispered.
I inhaled sharply. “Demons?”
“That’s the only word I have for it.” Warriors gathered around us in the wide street, all avoiding the edges where awnings drew pools of shadows for the creatures to pounce in. Many of them didn’t have weapons on hand when the attack struck, having been painting or drinking in the galleries.Everyone leaned toward Lancaster as he spoke. “They’re likely from another realm. I do not know their names, but in Vercuella, we consider beasts that roam in darkness to be demons.”
“I do not think that is exactly what we’re seeing, brother,” Mora chimed in, her voice low but eager. “These do not have the marked characteristics of those. Demons are meant to counter angelic figures—as the gorgons do seraphs—but these seem to be more animalistic. Shadows but not demons.”
I tracked the one that prowled the perimeter of the galleries and storefronts that were now locked tight. Demon or not, it was clearly calculating its moves, a predator. Each slow step of its large clawed feet—no. Paws. Those massive paws were precisely placed, agile yet commanding. A long tail swished lazily behind it, dusting the edge of the shadowed circumference, and bright-red eyes studied us.
“It looks a bit like a nemaxese,” I breathed. With black sinewy skin instead of fur but the same body shape as the biggest feline on Ambrisk—and paws that looked powerful enough to crack a skull—it was a darker, more malicious version of the creatures that belonged to the God of Mythical Beasts.
Mora exhaled in agreement. “Perhaps they are their brothers in another realm.”
Warriors around us muttered, shifting as the creature circled.
“I do not care what they are or where they are from,” Lancaster grumbled. “I want them dead.”
Without warning, he lunged. The creature released a wild screech, rearing up as Lancaster sprung into the shadows. He brought his sword down on its neck, but the clang reverberated through the night like a blade against a shield.
“What in Aioflyn’s?—”
“Under its throat!” I called as the weaponless warriors around us took the chance to escape the alley.
This creature wasn’t only similar to a nemaxese—it was precisely that. Some relative of it at the very least. And Ophelia had told me of how she’d fought off contaminated felines before. Their flesh was impenetrable with a weapon, but theydidhave a weakness.
The beast swept a claw at Lancaster’s leg, but he dodged it. My heart pounded in my throat, that string of a bond between us pulling taut with every inch closer those threatening teeth snapped.
“The throat is impenetrable,” Lancaster panted.
“Aimbeneathits jaw!” My grip tightened on my daggers.
The shadow creature tackled Lancaster, rolling through the dark with him. They vanished, reappearing with a crash behind us. They cracked a window, sending glass shattering and slicing across Lancaster’s cheek.
And those sharpened feline teeth snapped, a hair’s breadth from Lancaster’s neck. Ripping open again, they closed over his shoulder and the beast shook its head.
Lancaster yelled—I yelled—and as they tumbled, fae blood flying, Lancaster fell beneath the beast. That jaw snapped wide, releasing him to aim for his throat, and the hum in my chest became a roar.
He wasmine.
My mate, my bonded,mine.
