Page 51 of Promise of Darkness
His shadows fan across the snow, snaking around the banes.
“Look at thissh,” hisses one of the banes with a coughing laugh. “A wicked prinsh, on hish kneesh before ush.”
“Delicioush,” growls another.
“Itsh the traitor,” rasps another. “The Bashtard.”
Another merely snaps, lunging forward with yellowed teeth clashing.
I swing the sword, more of a threat than anything else, trying to stop them from rushing us. They’re everywhere. Circling us. Growling under their breath as they watch the sword with yellow eyes.
“Vi,” Thiago rasps. “I told you not to move.”
“Then do what you need to do.”
Tearing open his shirt, he falls forward onto his knuckles. Shadows move beneath his skin. No, not shadows. Tattoos. They writhe with malevolent grace, thick and violent. And then suddenly, they’re no longer content to remain in his skin.
“Thiago,” I whisper as tentacles of pure shadow lift out of his skin.
“Don’t move,” he rasps.
The banes slink closer.
I don’t know where to look. Every hair down my spine lifts as I face the banes, because I can hear little whispers behind me, as though something lurks within those shadows.
“Rip hish throat out,” hisses one of the banes.
“Take him for queen,” growls another.
“Why don’t you come closer and try it,” Thiago replies coldly.
As one, they lift their heads and howl.
And then they do exactly as he suggests, launching forward as one.
I swing my sword, iron whining in the chill night air. It meets resistance, and then hot blood splashes across my face. I’m about to follow up but Thiago grabs my ankle.
Shadows erupt, plunging us into a cloud of darkness and swallowing the banes whole. Yelps and snarls echo through the clearing, along with the crunch of bones. It’s bloody and brutal, and I don’t know what’s worse, the sound of the banes screaming in pain and rage, or the hissing little whispers that fill the shadows.
“Eat them all up….”
“So sweet the screams…. Tasty, tasty bones…. Crunch them and chew them and swallow them down.”
Thiago’s arms came around me, pinning me to his hard body as his power tears through the banes. I bury my face against his chest, trying not to listen to the Darkness’s devastating whispers.
It’s as if the malevolence is alive and comprised of several entities.
“More. Want more.”
Something touches my hair, and I scream as I feel its chill whisper down my spine.
“Don’t worry,” the Prince of Evernight tells me. “You’re safe in my arms. You’ll always be safe.”
The wind whips around us, something hissing in furious demand.
“Not her. Never her,” Thiago snaps.
“Prince is weak,” whispers something behind me. “Prince is bleeding. Who is Prince to make demands?”
