Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels

by C. N. Crawford

  As she flew hanging from Sotz, adrenaline burned through her nerve-endings. In the distance, she heard the announcer calling out two more deaths. The lunar wind whipped through her hair, and she gently urged Sotz upright again. When she righted her bat, the Gray Ghost had disappeared. The other riders surged forward, already moving on to begin another circle around the spire.

  Ursula leaned down, trying to keep pace with the three riders winging ahead of her. Bael’s silver lion insignia flashed in the sunlight.

  She urged Sotz forward as they arced around the edge of the spire, the violet crystal gleaming in the sunlight. If she weren’t moments away from possible death, it might have been exhilarating.

  As soon as they slammed into the riders a second time, her hackles were raised. Three riders were already charging for Bael. She arced closer to him, watching as his lance rammed into the chest of the lead rider. The horned demon shrieked, falling from the sky.

  Still, two other riders pressed on Bael—and one of them slammed a lance right into Vesperella, goring the bat. Blood sprayed in the air, and Vesperella’s wings folded together.

  To Ursula, it was like watching in slow motion, even though it happened in an instant. Panic ripped its claws through her heart, and she watched as Bael released Vesperella’s neck. He stood on her back for a moment. Then, a thousand feet in the air, Bael leapt towards the rider who’d just killed his mount, grasping at his feet. Vesperella tumbled, blood spraying from her hide as she grew smaller in the sky. Bael’s lance sparked in the sun as it fell.

  Bael hung by one hand, dangling from the bat’s foot, and two other riders moved closer. Vultures, waiting for their chance to finish him off. One moved a little too close, and in a gravity-defying move, Bael swung his body into the air. He landed on the rider’s back. It took only an instant for him to fling the rider off.

  The remaining rider began to close in on Bael. With Bael unarmed and on an unfamiliar mount, the ice-skinned demon saw a chance for easy prey. He unsheathed a cutlass.

  Clenching her jaw, she raced lower toward Bael, the glacial lunar wind whipping over her skin. Saving Bael wasn’t part of the plan, but she wasn’t ready to watch him die. She ripped her katana from its sheath, charging for the ice-demon. Her body moved fluidly with Sotz’s, as if she’d been doing this all her life, and her gaze locked intently on one thing. Her prey.

  No one expected death to come from the woman. From the bitch. No one expected her sword to find its way clean through their neck.

  Crimson blood sprayed through the air as she cut through the demon’s head.

  The demon’s body slumped, then rolled off his bat.

  “Twelve down!” Hothgar’s voice boomed.

  As Ursula glanced down at her blood-soaked sword, a chill spread through her veins. Predator. It seems, the answer is predator.

  Chapter 33

  Ursula stared at the thick blood dripping from her sword, then sheathed her weapon. Eyeing her, Bael nodded mutely, then began winging back to the dock. She swooped behind him, still catching her breath. Despite the cold lunar air, sweat matted Sotz's fur and dampened her clothes. Every one of her thigh muscles burned. She wanted to soak in a warm bath for days.

  As she closed in on the dock, she maneuvered Sotz to land a little more gracefully this time. He touched down between Bael and a lanky demon in a black doublet. He turned to her, giving a little bow.

  She leaned into Sotz, whispering, “That was some good flying.” The bat looked up at her with his beady eyes in an expression that could have been mistaken for relief.

  “Nice swordsmanship,” Bael said, studying her. “A natural assassin.”

  “It was an easy kill.” Okay. I sound a little like a sociopath.

  An image burned in her mind—her sword slashing through the ice-demon's neck. It had come naturally to her.

  Wherever she’d come from, F.U. had been a formidable predator. Ursula swallowed hard, eyeing Bael, the sunlight sparking in his eyes, a pale blue-gray, the color of ice floes.

  If she needed to kill this man, she’d need F.U. to come out and finish the job. Ursula just wasn’t quite psycho enough.

  Hothgar stalked toward them, his black cape floating on the wind. “The remaining champions must now choose their opponents for the duel. Of the fifty-seven original champions, eight remain. And what an interesting lot you are.” He smirked. “Bael the Fallen of Albelda, Zoth of the giant of Pleion, Inth of Alboth, Bernajoux of Zobrach, Valac of Phragol Mocaden, Chax of Azimeth, and our phantom rider, who could be absolutely anyone.” His nostrils flared. “And how could I forget Emerazel's filthy bitch.”

  Ursula’s fingers tightened on her sword's hilt. “Why do I have the disturbing feeling that you’ll be animating a ginger-haired doll when you get home tonight?”

  “Silence!” Hothgar roared, his cheeks reddening. When he’d regained his composure, he smoothed the front of his shirt. “You must now choose your opponents. With eleven kills, Bael is our leading Champion. He will choose first.”

  Ursula swallowed, as dread filled her veins. He had been promising to kill her. So did he want to get it over with or delay the inevitable? An icy wind toyed with her hair, rippling over her skin.

  Bael shot her a quick glance, and for a moment, her stomach clenched. “I will fight Zonth of Pleion,” he announced, his voice booming.

  A giant man, dressed in furs and silver, snarled, revealing a row of jagged teeth. Apparently, that was Zonth.

  Hothgar raised a hand. “After Bael’s eleven kills, the second choice goes to the man all the commoners are calling the Gray Ghost."

  From behind his scarf, the Gray Ghost shouted, “Chax of Azimeth.”

  Hothgar nodded. “Next to choose—my champion, Bernajoux.” Hothgar flashed a mirthless smile. “As lord of the Pleion, I will select Bernajoux’s champion for him. He leads my legion. He slaughtered twenty-seven men at the battle of Mt. Acidale.”

  The lanky man in the doublet bowed his head. With his delicate mustache and thin hands, he didn't look like a formidable opponent.

  Of course, looks could be deceiving. Hothgar glared at her. “Bernajoux will slaughter the dog. I have so wanted to see what her insides look like.”

  A chill washed over Ursula’s skin, and Bernajoux bowed deeply.

  Urusla straightened on her mount. Okay. That was creepy, but my opponent could have been worse. At least I'm not stuck with Zoth. Or worse—Bael.

  “That leaves Valac of Phragol Mocaden vs. Inth of Alboth,” continued Hothgar. He raised his hands to the pale sun. “The duels will be held at the Lacus Mortis in two days.” As he spoke, his voice seemed to boom over the entire crater, rumbling through her bones.

  Below, the bloodthirsty crowd erupted with cheers.

  Cera waited for her on the roof, her white skirts billowing around her.

  When Ursula landed, Cera rushed over to her. “What happened?” she asked, her silver eyes frantic. “Where is the lord?”

  Ursula's muscles groaned as she stepped off her mount. “He’s fine. He’s on his way.” She stumbled as she stepped off Sotz.

  Cera steadied her, squeezing her arm. “What else? Who do you have to fight at the duel?”

  Ursula’s muscles still shook from the adrenaline rush. “I need to fight a demon named Bernajoux. He didn't look quite as intimidating as the rest, to be honest. But Hothgar really wants his own champion to slaughter me.”

  She glanced out at the crater, catching a glimpse of Bael soaring through the sky.

  Cera squeezed Ursula's arm again. “He really is magnificent.”

  “Too bad we have to slaughter each other,” Ursula muttered.

  Cera’s eyes glistened. “The lord will give you a quick death. He is merciful.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Bael arced over their heads, then landed on the roof. He stepped off his mount. In the sunlight, blood and gore glistened off his black clothes.

  Cera frowned at his mount. “Where is Vesperella?”

/>   “Dead.”

  “I’m sorry, milord,” said Cera. She looked him up and down, taking in the bloodstains that soaked his clothes. “I will lay out fresh clothes for you.” She hurried off, leaving Ursula alone with Bael.

  Suddenly cold from the damp sweat soaking her clothes, she shivered.

  Bael studied Ursula. “Ursula. You will join me in my chambers in three hours.”

  The way he barked orders set her teeth on edge. She crossed her arms. “I guess that since you’ve been ordering people around for twenty millennia, you forget how to make a request,” she grumbled, before realizing she’d said it out loud.

  The corner of his mouth twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Will you join me in my chambers in three hours?”

  She nodded. “Why not? If we’re going to fight to the death in a few days, I might as well learn everything I can about you.”

  “I like the way you think,” he said.

  “And is there a purpose to this visit?” When she thought of what he’d said to her before the race, his words still felt like a slap in the face. As she stared at his ruthlessly beautiful features, hollow loneliness ate at her. “You’ve already made it clear that we’re not friends and you don’t care for me at all, so I’m wondering what the point is.”

  “You must learn to use shadow magic.” He took a step closer, his large form looming over her. “Bernajoux will cut you down if you do not allow me to train you.”

  She nodded. “And you want the chance to kill me yourself?”

  He now stood so close she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. “I will make it painless,” he said softly. For just a moment, he let his fingertips brush down her shoulder. “Bernajoux will not.”

  She looked up at him. He stood over a foot taller than her. “Bernajoux didn’t look that scary.”

  “Bernajoux is powerful and sadistic. There is a reason Hothgar likes him.”

  Chapter 34

  Balancing carefully, she walked across the stone bridge. This time, she’d come barefoot and wearing her simple black gown. She didn’t need to risk plunging off the side of the bridge because she’d stumbled in her heels.

  In her pocket, she gripped the silver ring, feeling its reassuring familiarity between her fingers. For just a moment, her gaze flicked to the abyss, and a shiver crawled up her spine. The darkness called to her.

  “Ursula,” Bael’s voice rose from the shadows, smooth as velvet.

  As she crossed into the main cavern, she caught the outline of Bael’s enormous form, sitting in his onyx throne. Candlelight sparked in his eyes, and wisps of night magic flickered around him. Raw, dark power roiled around him.

  “Come closer,” he said.

  She padded across the cold stone floor, gazing up at him. Seated in his throne, he towered above her. When she stood only a few feet from him, she could see his piercing eyes, so cold against the warmth of his golden skin.

  Suddenly, she felt completely unsure of herself. “What do I need to do?” she asked, rolling the ring in her fingers.

  “I need you to feel the magic.” His cold aura snaked over her skin, caressing her body.

  Powerful shadow magic thrummed along her ribs, skimming her breasts. It encircled her neck. Instinctively, her head tilted back, exposing her throat. As Bael’s magic wrapped around her body, it seemed to thrill her at the same time as it filled her with dread. A chill spread over her skin, goosebumps rising on her arms. When she exhaled, her breath clouded around her face. Under her cotton dress, her nipples hardened. She hugged herself, and her teeth began to chatter.

  His gaze slid down her body and up again. “You can feel the magic? That is good.”

  “It’s freezing.” She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “Yes. Shadow magic comes from the void.” Bael’s voice sounded distant, like he was speaking from a thousand miles away. “It is the cold of the depths of space, the endless nothingness between stars. As you learn to channel it, your other senses will learn to feel it, too.”

  Standing before Bael, she continued to shiver. She wasn’t entirely clear why she had to stand below him like one of his subjects while he loomed over her in his throne. “So how do I learn to channel it?”

  “It won’t be easy. But you’re off to an impressive start. When I was first learning, it took me weeks before I could sense the magic. Perhaps F.U. already had some practice. ”

  As Bael’s magic slid over her body, she was pretty sure her lips were turning blue. “I don’t think I understand the concept of channeling shadow magic. What does it mean?”

  His enormous hands enveloped the ends of the throne’s arms. “Besides Nyxobas, only certain immortal beings can channel shadow magic directly. It’s called gods-magic. Demigods can use it. Nyxobas grants his power to his Sword, so Hothgar has it, as did I before I lost my wings. Abrax has it by virtue of being his son. Now, I can no longer create night magic on my own. Neither can you. You have to learn to absorb it from another source, to take it into your body for later use. That is called channeling.”

  With all this shadow magic in the air, she really should have worn a cloak. “Right. And how do I channel it?”

  Leaning forward, he held out a hand. “Come to me.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “What now?”

  “I’ll act as your conduit. You will draw power from the throne. Magic flows into the onyx from the crystals that form this cave. But if you’re subjected to it directly, the power might flood you.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure she understood where he wanted her, but her cheeks were warming already. “So...you want me to sit on your lap.”

  He loosed a sigh, as though he were losing patience. “Yes. It’s the only way you can learn.”

  “Okay.” Her pulse began to race. Something about the thought of being so close to Bael’s powerful body sent a strange thrill through her. She tugged up the hem of her skirt, climbing the three steps to Bael’s throne.

  Turning her face to hide the embarrassing blush in her cheeks, she sat in his lap. He slid a powerful hand around her waist.

  Despite the icy magic whirling around him, his muscled body began to warm her.

  “I’m going to allow the magic to flow through you, okay?” His breath warmed the side of her face.

  She had the strongest impulse to reach back and touch his face, but she resisted. He had said she meant nothing to him, that he felt bound to help her out of some misguided sense of duty. It was humiliating that she even had to rely on him for help. Still, she supposed she had to take help where she could get it.

  She straightened. “I’m ready.”

  Icy magic wrapped around her ribs, kissing the bare skin at her throat—a dizzying, electrical charge of power. As her back began to arch, her legs fell to either side of his. His arm tightened around her waist. Then, from all around her, the shadow magic flowed into her chest, freezing her from the inside out.

  A painful, hollow dread bloomed in her chest, a ravenous hunger. The world around her seemed to fragment and collapse, and darkness clouded her vision. She could no longer tell where she was—couldn’t feel Bael’s body beneath hers, couldn’t tell up from down.

  From the depths of the void, an image burst into her view: Bael, pressing a dagger to her chest. In shockingly swift movement, he shoved it under her ribs, stopping her heart.

  There, she saw herself lying in the dirt, her skin gray, her jaw slackened, lips blue. Red hair spread limply on the bloodstained ground. Dull green eyes, full of mute horror. And in their lifeless reflection—flames. A burning room. The fire that would eat her alive.

  As quickly as it had arrived, the image was snuffed out again, and she stood at the edge of an abyss. She just needed to take one more step, to plunge into an isolation so complete it would gnaw the flesh from her bones. An uncontrollable urge pulled her into the void. I don’t exist. I never did. I never will.

  “Ursula!” A deep voice boomed through the void.

/>   She could feel something again—a warm hand on her body. She shivered uncontrollably, her teeth chattering.

  “Ursula!” Bael’s voice called to her. He pulled her closer to his warm body. She’d changed position, her legs now sideways on his lap. The magic had seeped from the air, but she still shivered. The chill spread through her chest.

  Bael’s arms enveloped her. “I’m not sure what happened. I was modulating the power. It shouldn’t have overwhelmed you like that.”

  She glanced up into his eyes, that icy gray...

  Once more, her vision went dark, and she found herself standing on a dark cliff. There was something she needed to get to—a woman with red hair like hers, and fierce brown eyes. An old man, his hands spotted with age. A wall of darkness slammed against her.

  You don’t want to remember those things.

  She felt a sharp tug from the center of her chest, drawing her to the edge. And when she glanced into the void, its vibrations sang her name. A dark lullaby...this was her mother, her father, her home.

  “Ursula!” Bael’s voice called her back.

  Freezing cold, a violent convulsion overtook her body. Aching sadness pierced her chest.

  Bael pulled her in closer, his powerful arms surrounding her. “Ursula. Stay with me. Remember who you are.”

  Her arms were around his neck, as if she was clinging to him for dear life.

  “Use your own memories to warm your body. Think of your life. Use your memories to fill the void.”

  Hollow agony filled her ribs. “I don’t have any memories.”

  “Right. Maybe that’s the problem.”

  He slid his hand up her chest, pressing it onto her heart. At the touch of his hand between her breasts, her skin began to warm. A dark heat whispered up her spine, curling her back. She swallowed hard. “What are you doing with your hand?”

  “I’m drawing the magic out of you.” His perfect lips were mere inches from hers.

  She could feel a hot blush rising to her cheeks, her body responding to his touch, whether she wanted it to or not. She was sure he could see her pupils dilating, the sheen of sweat rising on her skin.