Page 128 of Curse of Darkness
Finn flashes Grimm a vicious smile. “I think I might actually have to have those words etched into a piece of stone. Did you just say I’m right?”
“Don’t push me, pudding brain.” Grimm examines his claws. “It occasionally happens to even the veriest idiot.”
I’m still working my way through the implications of everything. What if it’s not the entirety of the creature itself within me? What if Finn’s right?
Rubbing a hand over my chest, I brush my senses against the other ‘souls’ trapped within me. Darkyn souls. Pieces of the puzzle that makes up the entirety of the Shadow Sinister. Rage and Torment and Fury. Names I gave them as I gutted their owners and tore the snippets of soul from their bodies.
All of them vicious. All of them dangerous and hungry for vengeance.
All of them strangely distinct within me, as if they were once part of a whole, but imprinted upon those who once bore them.
When I hunted Rage down, I found him in a village full of slaughtered women and children. There was nothing in his expression beyond the crushing need to destroy me. An animal, a monster, a vicious bloodthirsty beast that made me terrified to ever let Death take me over. For years I woke sweating from nightmares with that bastard’s face in my mind.
But the shadow inside me, that whisper…. It’s fought to consume me, but it’s never even given a hint that it wants to drink the blood from someone’s throat.
Is Finn right? Is this… sliver of a monster inside me as much a part of me as I’m a part of it?
“What does that mean?” I breathe.
“It means, I don’t think the psychic entity inside you is going to hurt Amaya. I don’t think itcanhurt her. Because at heart, it feels all your emotions as if they’re its own.” Finn turns to Amaya with a smile. “Want to teach your father how to kill the Horned One?”
25
ISKVIEN
Someone is reading.
“‘I love you,’ the duke whispered, his eyes gleaming bright gray in contrast to the soot on his cheeks. ‘I have tried not to. I knew I was breaking every single promise I ever made myself when I looked at you. But I couldn't help myself. You drive me crazy, Adele. But you also give me back a piece of myself I thought I'd lost.’” The gentle words pause. “Vi? Vi, are you awake?”
Slowly my lashes flutter open. Light spills through the curtains—an instant stabbing ache—but it’s also grounding in a way.
Soup. I can smell soup. And Mother of Darkness, is that the scent of a warm, crusty bread roll lingering in the air like the promise of a mouth orgasm?
A very eager growl echoes through the room and I clap my hands over my stomach. “Thiago?”
Thiago closes the book, setting it aside. He’s wearing his seelie glamor again, a handsome fae prince clad in strict black. Every inch of his hair is disheveled. It needs a trim. And if he didn’t look so deliciously wicked with his dark hair all rumpled as if my hands have been through it, I might suggest it.
My gaze locks on the bruise along his cheek. “What happened to your face?”
“Hello, Vi.” The bed dips as he sinks into the mattress at my side. “I’m fine. Finn and I were working through some things yesterday morning. Are you thirsty?”
I groan as I roll onto my side.
Someone’s stuffed my head with wool, and my mouth is a desert.
“Here,” he says.
A cup finds its way to my mouth, and then cool, blessed water spills over my lips. I drink deeply, draining the entire cup and wanting more, even as he holds me.
“Easy.” It’s a rough voice. The sound of granite over velvet. A hand strokes through my hair. “You’re going to vomit if you drink too much so soon. How are you feeling?”
I mentally scan my body and wince. Nothing is bleeding, but the ghostly sensation of that sword driving through me still lingers. “I’m fine. I think. Is Malakhai gone?”
“Gone,” he promises. “You turned him into a compost heap. Remind me never to piss you off.”
I capture his hand, stroking my thumb against his. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m fine,” he says softly.
