Thunk. Thunk. Arrows hit the wall on the other side of us, and we pressed into each other as tightly as possible.
“I can only fly when my incubus side comes out. And that only happens when I’m threatened.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” It came out like a screech, melding with the screeching of the demon above. The arrogance of a demigod. We were trapped in an alley, hammered with arrows by demons from above. On either side of the alley, more demons were waiting to kill us. But Ruadan didn’t feel threatened. No, this was just an ordinary morning, apparently.
I’d only seen him transform twice. Once with me; the other time had been in the tunnels, when his old childhood tormentor—the serpentine Caoranach—had nearly killed him. She had been the one who really got to him.
I pulled him tight against me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what’s about to happen.”
Then, I grabbed his throat as tight as I could, and I felt his body go rigid. I stood on my tiptoes, getting as close to his ear as I could.
I mimicked the lilting fae accent and deep voice of the Caoranach. “I’ve been here since before the angels,” I said, in a voice that sounded exactly like hers. “Before the fae. I am one of the Old Gods. Your pain was finer sustenance than my tea.”
Then, I bit his neck as hard as I could, drawing blood.
Black, leathery wings swooped down behind him, blocking out the sun above us. Star-flecked darkness swirled in his eyes and two dark horns gleamed on his head; a hand at my throat, black claws piercing my neck. For just a moment, I wondered if this was the worst idea I’d ever had, born from the whiskey I’d just chugged. Then, my breathing slowed again. My beautiful nightmare, a god dredged from primordial depths.
I might be death incarnate, but Ruadan still had the ability to send a shiver of primal fear up my spine. A voice in the ancient part of my brain told me to run, but I knew better. Even his monstrous side wouldn’t hurt me.
“There you are,” I said. “I love you. Even your ill-tempered side.”
I’d never told him I loved him before. Now that it was out of my mouth, the terrible weight of those unspoken words had lifted off my chest. Now, I never wanted to stop saying it.
An arrow slammed against his wings, bouncing off—a useful shield. Snarling, he pulled his hand away from my throat. Now, his gaze was sliding down my body, taking in the tube top that had slid down, one of my nipples peeking out. He growled quietly, then grabbed me by the waist, holding his sword in the other hand.
He’d gone from primal demigod of wrath to a lust monster. His magic stroked my skin like a dangerous caress. As arousal stirred in my own body, I could see him feeding from it, and his dark magic bloomed from his body.
Ruadan’s wings had formed a shield around us, protecting us from the oncoming hail of arrows. Thin veins of silver shone in his wings, and light shone through the membranes. They looked thin, but they were protecting us.
I reached up to touch his black wing, and he sucked in a sharp breath, muscles tensing. His lust magic stroked over my bare skin, and his body glowed.
“Are your wings indestructible?” I asked.
His eyes had swept down to my breasts, and he cupped one of them, thumb stroking over my nipple. “Not quite. Nothing is indestructible.”
My breasts peaked under the full, intense stare of an incubus.
And this was the problem with Incubus Ruadan. He might have wings, but his focus wasn’t necessarily in the right place. Even with his powerful wings forming a dome around us, we couldn’t stay here forever. The demons waiting for us at the mouths of the alley were about to trap us in here, and his wings wouldn’t shield us for long.
Footfalls echoed off the alley walls, and Ruadan’s head whipped to the right. The air turned to ice. The demons had decided to come for us.
“We need to get out of here,” Ruadan snarled.
“I know. That’s what I’ve been saying. Now. You need to use those big wings right now. And I need to use mine.”
I will crush my enemies into the realm of the dead.
Ruadan grabbed me around the waist, and his powerful wings began thumping the air, lifting us out of the alley, into the coral morning sun rays. I gripped my sword in one hand and looped the other around his neck.
I will ensnare your bodies in chains of darkness.
A volley of arrows slammed into us, most of them hitting Ruadan’s wings—but one of them pierced his leg.
I breathed in Ruadan’s piney scent, then I whispered, “Let go.”
My wings weren’t out yet, and to my surprise, he trusted me enough to drop his grip on me anyway. For just a moment, I plummeted. My bug-out bag dropped to the ground, but I clung tightly to the sword.
I am the beginning and the end.
Then, dark euphoria spiraled through me as my own wings burst from my shoulder blades. Cool morning air whipped over my body. I’d been meant for the skies, and up here, I felt clear-headed.
I started flying in an erratic path, trying to make myself harder to hit. The pace of incoming arrows now suggested to me that they were running out. Ruadan’s leather wings were carrying him toward Maddan, and I started to head for the other demon.
The sun blinded me, and it took a moment before I could focus on the second attacker—the larger one, whose screeching pierced my eardrums.
He was nocking another arrow. I finally recognized what he was saying.
“One, two, threeeeeeee!”
“Barry?” The bloody caveman? Was there anyone Nyxobas hadn’t transformed in the shadow hell?
Barry loosed his arrow, and I blocked it with my sword.
I enshroud your body with rot.
I angled my wings, flying faster for Barry. Up close, Barry looked quite a bit different than the hunched little Neanderthal I’d found in the dungeons. This Barry was enormous and muscled, his body covered in brown hair. His teeth were long and yellow, pointed at the ends, and pale eyes burned with hatred. Fresh out of arrows, he screeched and pulled a sword from his sheath.
Battle fury crackled up my spine as I reached him.
I swung for him, and he managed to deflect it. On the second slash, I sliced the quiver off his back, the tip of my blade carving into his skin.
“One, two, threeeeee!” A nasal screech, straight from the depths of hell.
Our blades clashed, sparking in the ruddy morning light. His stench was unbearable. Did showers not exist in the void? Whatever the case, Nyxobas had dutifully transformed him into a powerful warrior.
At this point, I wanted to slaughter Nyxobas myself.
Death has dominion over all gods.
For someone who looked like a winged caveman, Barry moved swiftly, his swordsmanship sophisticated. Our position had shifted, no longer over the little alley but in the skies above Smithfield. Centuries ago, these streets had run with the blood from butchered cows and executed traitors, or from victims burned by fanatical queens for heresy. Today, they’d run red with the blood of demons if I could help it.
“Barry lonely in the void!” he yelped.
His plaintive voice was worse than his attack, and the whining tone threw me off. Still, I was driving him back, controlling the fight and dominating him.
My gaze flicked back to Ruadan. To my horror, I realized he was no longer fighting Maddan alone—an entire horde of shadow demons had flocked to him. He moved in a blur, an explosion of dark, shadowy magic that froze the air. But there were so many of them, descending like a plague of locusts.
“Bollocks!” Barry had been acting as a distraction, pulling me away from Ruadan when I needed to keep him safe. Ruadan, of course, was the real target. I needed to act as his guard.
Now, several shadow demons were flying closer, still in the distance but moving for him. Had Baleros managed to transform each and every one of these demons in the void?
No, he probably hadn’t needed to. All demons hated the Shadow Fae, since we tended to assassin
ate them. All Baleros had to do was the get the word out across the earth to the demons hiding in the shadows, underground, afraid for their lives—an uprising was beginning: The Great Rebellion starts in London. Live free; kill the Shadow Fae.
It was a wonder the Institute had lasted as long as it already had.
I had to end this little skirmish now and get over to Ruadan.
Chapter 27
I positioned myself just above Barry’s dark wings.
He opened his mouth. “One, two, threee—”
“Shut up, Barry!” I bellowed. I brought my sword down hard into his wings, carving through bone and muscle.
He yelped like an animal, then spiraled out of the skies, falling hard into Smithfield Square.
I glanced at Ruadan. The man was terrifying, a vortex of dark magic and icy air. Blood covered his body, but his sword hung at his waist. This savage version of Ruadan was ripping one of Maddan’s wings off using his bare hands. No wonder Ruadan kept his brutal side under tight wraps.
Like a sadistic child toying with a fly, Ruadan ripped the second wing off Maddan. The bloodied, wingless creature began to fall to earth.
I swooped lower, racing for Maddan as he fell, nearly free-falling myself.
Death to the Prince of Emain. Death to Baleros’s allies.
I swung. My blade sliced through his neck, carving his head from his body.
I shot Ruadan an irritated glare, as if to say that’s how you kill, a perfectly civilized decapitation the way the gods and nature intended, but he completely missed the look because another winged demon was moving closer now. And at any moment, more would be upon us.
My wings thumped the air. The thrill of destroying Maddan was short-lived—a high-pitched scream turned my head.
“One, two, threeeeeeee!”
Barry’s bloody wing had already healed, and he flew for me again—this time clutching sharpened iron stakes. Demon Barry was a lot sturdier than Maddan. And where the hells had he got the iron stakes from?
He hurled one at me. But just before it reached me, I snatched it in midair. The iron burned my palm, but I twirled it around and hurled it at Barry, catching him in the wing.
Death to the allies of Baleros.
The iron spike ripped his wing a second time.
“Threeeeeeeee!” he shrieked. He tumbled to the pavement, blood streaming from his body.
I’d finish him off for good later. Right now, I needed to help protect Ruadan from the legions of shadow demons surrounding him. We were drastically outnumbered, and cold rage spurred me on faster, the wind whipping over me as I flew closer to Ruadan.
Of course Baleros waited until the sun rose to stage his real attack. In the light, we couldn’t leap away.
I’ll be a blight on the earth.
I longed to just unleash my death magic, but if it was powerful enough, I’d take Ruadan down with it and finish the knights for certain. Instead, I joined the fray. My sword was a tornado of steel, hacking into wings, carving off horns and limbs. Ruadan moved swiftly and gracefully, like a night storm. Strike, thrust, hack.
The blood of our enemies rained over Smithfield. Demons, their wings decimated, plummeted to the pavement.
Protect the one I love.
I fought with the fierceness of a king protecting his fortress, every inch of me now moving precisely.
But more demons kept coming, some of them flying behind me. I couldn’t whirl fast enough to take them all on.
From behind, a sword cut into my wings.
I’d been stabbed many times, cut with swords and knives. A fire demon had singed my entire left leg once. But I’d never experienced the exquisite pain of a wing injury, an agony that seemed to rip me apart from the inside out. It spread through my body and set up camp inside my skull.
Then, the swoosh of air around me as I fell.
I slammed down hard on the concrete, body cracking with the fall. Was I screaming? Pretty sure I was.
From my cleaved wing, sharp pain ripped through me. I rolled onto my hands and knees. I’d lost my sword in the fall, and I desperately scanned the pavement for it.
“One, two, threeeeeeeeeee!” My head whipped to the side to see if Barry was coming for me. He wasn’t. Instead, he was gripping iron spikes and slamming them into the ground with a disturbing sort of glee. His wings may have been ripped, but he didn’t seem to mind, so intent was he on stabbing the pavement with iron spikes. What was he doing? He was obviously completely mental now, but his physical strength was truly stunning.
I had no time to contemplate that further, because another demon was moving for me, his body a vortex of darkness with two burning white eyes. His form flickered in and out, but I got glimpses of a lithe, leathery demon with long claws.
Shit. He moved like the Wraith, and I’d lost my weapon.
I pushed myself to my feet, wishing my wings would retract like they normally did. Apparently, that didn’t happen when one of them had been ripped.
As the leathery demon reached me, I burst into action using only my body. I hammered his desiccated face with my fist, and I kicked him hard in the chest. He was moving just as fast, but I managed to dominate, landing one punch after another.
A primal instinct in the back of my mind, an invisible thread that connected me to Ruadan alerted me that something was wrong. I glanced up at the skies. My heart stuttered at the sight of Ruadan careening for the earth, his wings ripped, bleeding.
“No,” I whispered.
It was just enough of a distraction that I lost the advantage. In the next moment, the demon’s clawed fingers were around my throat, piercing my neck.
Baleros’s second law of power: Caring for others makes you weak.
I kicked him hard in the crotch, and he dropped his grip on me. My victory was short-lived. Already, another creature was ripping at my wings from behind. Pain screamed through my body.
I was surrounded, but my survival instincts were still keeping me focused. I kicked a demon so hard in the throat that he dropped his sword, and I snatched it as it fell. I swung it in wild arcs, trying to keep the demons at bay. I had to kill them all to get to Ruadan.
Where the hells was Baleros? I could almost feel his corrupted presence tainting the air.
I swung at the demons around me. Then, an iron arrow from above pierced my chest. I fell back onto the pavement.
Pinned to the ground by half a dozen demon hands, my wings and spine splintered with pain. Someone kicked the sword away from me. I bucked and thrashed, trying to break free.
Panic stole my breath as I spied a glimpse of Ruadan on the other side of Smithfield. I caught just a fleeting instant, but it was enough to know what was happening. Enough to rob my mind of all sense for one horrible, quiet moment.
The demons had surrounded him, and they were driving iron spikes into the ground through his wings.
My world tilted.
They wanted to pin him there like a butterfly, then carve the World Key off his chest.
He could have made a portal to get out of here. Why the hells hadn’t he made a portal to escape?
I searched for a shadow I could leap to, but in the bright morning light, they were few and far between, and the demons kept hitting me. I growled, fighting wildly against the demons gripping my arms.
That’s when a thought struck me with the sharpness of an arrow to my skull. Ruadan was staying because of me. He’d promised to stay by my side and to keep me safe. He’d promised he wouldn’t run away. And he wasn’t breaking that promise now. Even if he really should be.
A blow to the side of my head dizzied me for a moment. My death magic threatened to burst out of me.
If it weren’t for me, Ruadan would be out of here by now.
And if it weren’t for Ruadan, I’d probably be spilling my death magic into every living creature around me right now. I’d kill all of London in one glorious death spasm and free myself from the attackers beating the living shite out of me.
Instead, I
was grappling here with a demon horde.
Caring for others makes you weak.
Ruadan needed strength, and I needed a real weapon again.
A demon kicked me in the head, and I fell forward. Where was that sword?
Focus, Liora. Get to Ruadan.
I ripped a loose cobble from the ground—a possible weapon. I started to stand, ready to kill with it. But before I could use it, another arrow pierced me from behind, and I fell to my knees again. Where had that sword gone?
Get up, Liora. Get to Ruadan before someone robs the world of the fae prince—the boy who made his mother a crown of flowers, who grew up to be a warrior.
The world needed him, and so did I.
I rose again, fury igniting me with a pure clarity, and my gaze locked on my newest attacker—a winged demon with enormous fangs. The cobble was out of my hand in a fraction of a heartbeat, and it slammed into his skull, cracking it. I snatched his sword from him before he hit the ground.
My desperation to get to Ruadan burned the fear from my body. There was nothing now except my sword and the wounds of my enemies.
Snarling like a savage thing, I hacked my way out of the crowd of attackers, running for Ruadan. I needed to tell him to open the portal—could he open the portal with that iron pulsing through his blood?
Probably not.
And I was no longer strong enough to get him out of here unless I went full angel.
Chapter 28
I ran for him anyway, sprinting across the square, but I was still in the stupid satyr heels. I shadow-leapt to a shady tree not far from him—but there was just so much godsdamned light around. It must have been magically created.
From behind, a demon grabbed at my hair and my wings, slowing me down. I whirled, swinging my sword to sever the creature’s body in two.
When I turned back to face Ruadan, panic slammed into me. A cloaked figure stood above him, knife glinting. Bright magic lights blazed above him, eliminating shadows. I couldn’t leap any further.
Even with the cloak, I knew it was Baleros. I broke into a run again, my mind screaming. Stop him. Baleros brought the knife up above Ruadan, ready to skin him.
Court of Dreams (Institute of the Shadow Fae Book 4) Page 15
