Page 67 of Shadow Weaver
I was in a tunnel.
How was there—
A fresh surge of adrenaline coursed through me, heating my blood into a frenzy. I began to jog. There was a body there. A body that needed to be cut down. A life to be ended.
Wait … no. I’d come here for a reason. For something else. Why was I so angry? I raised my blade, heart jackhammering, breath coming fast, and stared at my hand, at the black veins crawling across it.
Wrong.
This was wrong.
Something in the tunnel.
Faces and lights.
Claws in my mind.
I had to fight. Fight it. I locked my knees and found the glowing connection to the weave. But the thing, the dark claws, were right there, digging in, trying to drag me back. Drag me away from the light.
I grasped the glowing rope and tugged.
Help me.
Please.
My plea reverberated down the thread, and the weave above me lit up brighter.
Soft voices answered.
One of us.
In pain.
One of us.
Please, I need… Oh, God. I needed to kill.
The weave glowed brighter, and then the light coalesced at one point, the point connected to my thread.
Yes. I needed it. I needed that power.
And then the light was rushing down my thread. It slammed into me, knocking me free of the claws and filling my body with fizzing power. The rage vanished, and my mind was clear.
Brady.
Brady was in trouble.
Twenty
Iveered around the corner and then swung back to avoid the sharp end of Brady’s blade. His eyes were black pits in his head. His skin a map of black veins.
“Argh!” He struck, and I blocked with my blade.
Metal clanked, and I buckled under his assault. Fuck, he was strong, but the rage those light things had induced was making him even stronger.
“Brady, stop!” I ducked and threw myself forward in a roll to avoid his blade.
He attacked again and again.
