Page 175 of Fires of the Forsaken
Seruf’s hand connected with the side of my face.
I staggered back, my hand slipping out of her boob. My cheek burned. One of her rings had caught me beneath my left eye. Blood trickled from the wound.
“You—” Seruf’s face paled. Her lips trembled. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Howdare…”
She was so flabbergasted her mouth quivered.
I wasn’t doing much better. My muscles jittered and my heart felt maxed out on caffeine and ready to have palpitations.
I stared at my convulsing hands. The fuck had just happened?
“Seruf!”
I whipped my head to the side when Gabriel cried out. He’d gone rigid; barely able to move his lips.
Abby Normal stood over him, her fangs buried in his chest as she lapped at his blood. “Seruf, please!” he called.
Seruf, breathing shakily, turned. Another fireball flickered above her palm as she gazed at Abby Normal.
No!Fear grabbed my stomach in a painful cramp. I didn’t think twice before I shoved both hands into Seruf’s glowing boobs. And I clutched on even as a proverbial nuclear bomb exploded in my chest, sending burning toxins through my bloodstream. Even as Seruf walloped my cheek again, and again, and again. I closed my hands into fists, held on, and went for the trippiest ride of my life.
I plummeted into a whirl of colors, sounds, and images.
Voices rang in my ears. Too many and talking too fast for me to understand. Figures danced before my eyes: people, burnt and dying. Crying children dressed in fine silks.
There were so many fucking kids.
A dark-haired man screamed as his black-and-red wings (identical to Seruf’s) were hacked off with a knife.
And…Cheriour!
I saw him for a split second, but my heart almost did a full cartoon leap out of my chest. He was younger here and his curly hair was short, barely touching the tips of his shoulders. His face was clean-shaven too—he had a dimpled chin!
But then he vanished.
A young girl sat before me. Her honey-brown hair fell over her shoulder in one big, matted clump. She was bucknaked, and almost skinny enough to pass for a Wraith. Her shoulder bones looked like daggers jutting out from under her skin.
She turned. And I gasped.
The girl had purple eyes. Almost exactly like mine.
“Who—” I started, but then shewhooshedabove my head and disappeared.
The dark-haired man returned. He huddled over his disembodied wings as he rocked back and forth.
His howl blended with a swirl of other pained cries that encircled me.
My stomach heaved. This was like a bad amusement park ride. No, it was like beingdrunkwhile on a bad ride. I didn’t know which way was up, down, straight, or sideways. People twirled across my vision from all angles. The cries, shouts, and pleas swamped my ears. I had no freaking clue where they came from. Time escaped me. Had I been in here for seconds, minutes, hours, or days? No idea. I might’ve been trapped there for years.
I wanted off this damn ride.Neededoff, before I upended my guts. But how? How the heck was I supposed to stop this?I didn’t even know whatthiswas.
A scream rose, shriller than the others. Clearer.Automatically, I moved toward it, wading across rows and rows of corpses. Waltzing beneath snarling Wraiths and galloping Púcas. Stepping on naked, wailing, terrified children.
Jesus.Guess what was gonna haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life?
Colorful wings brushed against my arms, feet, head, and shoulders. Glistening buildings sprouted above and below me.
All the while, the singular scream persisted, still rising above the cacophony of chaos.
