Page 154 of Walking in Darkness
Plus, in the chaos, I’d recognized a few faces of other Laven from our family. More who had come when they’d been called.
I wasn’t shocked. I understood now. What had been pressed on all our souls.
Pax fired at a woman who was clawing her way to me.
Though his hand on mine ensured that the reserves inside me built and built. A burn within that raged, pressing in on my psyche and gathering in my limbs.
One of the debased suddenly wheeled over me from above, propelling himself off a tree. His boiling skin had begun to peel. Sickness twisted through me. He appeared as if he were being burned alive, his screech vile as he launched himself toward me overhead.
Aiming high, Pax fired off another shot. The man howled as he was hit, and his body convulsed as he fell.
He landed on top of me, limp and heavy when he slammed against the back of my head and shoulders.
Gasping, I whirled to shove him off.
“Are you hurt?” Pax shouted.
“No, I’m fine.” It was haggard. Grating. Cutting as the energy that gathered inside me neared overwhelming.
I was consumed with the need to emit it.
To end the horrors that surrounded us.
“Keep moving!” Pax’s voice vibrated over the clamor. “We have to find Ambrose.”
“He’s still here,” I muttered. I could sense the distinct stench of vileness, which poured its toxin out on those who were slain because of his call.
“Fucker is hiding. Knows he’s met his match,” Pax grunted as he kicked a boot out to deflect the fall of a possessed woman who lumbered backward, already struck by a knife in the side by another Laven.
The battle raged on, the deviants and Kruen destroyed, one by one.
I could feel the belief being renewed.
Restored.
Conviction pulsed from the Laven, feeding into one another. Sustaining our strength.
“End her. End her. End her now. She must not prevail.”
It became a screech. A rash cruciality that stank of fear.
He was afraid. He was afraid.
And he was near.
For a flash of a second, I closed my eyes so I could listen to the call that had led me here.
And I felt it.
Spearing into me. A dark, bitter blade.
My eyes flew open, seeking its source, and my attention whipped back to the gazebo.
Though now he no longer stood on the steps, but rather atop the roof.
His arms were outstretched with his bellowing command: “End her! Bring her to me! The one who stands in our way.”
He didn’t need one of his servants to bring me to him.
