Touch of Shadow (The Shadow Sorceress Book 5)

by Bilinda Sheehan

  "What?" Victoria and I spoke simultaneously as I grabbed Marcel's arm and halted his progress toward the gate.

  A vision washed over me. Marcel's body, broken among the tombstones, and a man wearing a top hat stood over him. The other man had his back to me but I was certain it was Heddou; he wore the same black suit, and the top hat was a dead giveaway.

  Jerking my hand away, I stared into Marcel's eyes. His expression was a mixture of grief and acceptance, and I knew without a doubt I'd shared the vision with him.

  "I won't let him kill you," I said.

  "That which is written cannot be changed. Your role in this is not to save me but to ensure the gate remains shut...."

  And then he was gone, his movements swift as he followed Heddou in through the gates.

  "Shit," I said, starting after them both.

  "Is there a plan?" Victoria asked.

  I shook my head. "Not particularly … but Graham did promise us back-up if we needed it.”

  "We've got nothing to worry about, then," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. It wasn't until I shot her a quick glance that I realised she was joking, but her longer stride quickly had her pull ahead of me, leaving me to straggle into the cemetery last, just as the first scream split the air.

  28

  It wasn't a scream like any I'd heard before. The noise caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention as my scalp went taut with the sudden onslaught of power. It danced across my skin, leaving icy tendrils in its wake that clung to me like dew-soaked cobwebs.

  The scream came again, and this time, it was from something close-by. I turned in time to see the ghost of a woman—or, at least, what had once been a woman—launch itself in my direction.

  Its mouth was open, jaw distended as teeth sharp and white snapped down over my arm, drawing a grunt of pain from me. I could see through its body; the limp tendrils of what little hair it had left that hadn't completely rotted away clung to its face and head. The sharp, broken teeth of the creature worried at the bite like a dog, tearing at my flesh like something possessed. The silver of my blades passed through the creature, causing it to momentarily disappear, only for it to materialise at my back.

  Whirling to face it once more, my hand passed through its chest, and wisps of its smoky body clung to my arms, but there was nothing solid to grab onto, to hold, so I might deliver a killing blow.

  The creature’s blood-spattered mouth spread wide in a grin. It was an expression I'd seen before on the face of Joanna Sidwell; the intelligence that didn't belong in her eyes was present in the creature that now grabbed my arm with both hands in a vice-like grip. It moved fast, jerking my arm down in an attempt to snap the bones in my arm. I felt my shoulder shudder with the force of its strength.

  "No," I said, power flooding my veins, pouring up through my throat and out from my mouth like boiling oil. I imagined it coating the creature, imagined it keeping its shape, trapping it within a physical form.

  It halted. The power reverberating from my voice seemed to momentarily stun it, causing it to loosen its grip. Without wasting a second, I thrust the silver blade of my other knife into its abdomen, just below the ribcage. Spinning in toward its grip, I jerked free of its hold and grabbed the creature’s shoulder as the one eyeball that hadn't rotted away rolled in its skull. It fought against my hold, struggling to escape like a macabre butterfly held on the end of a pin. Curving the blade upwards, I slammed it into the cavity where the creature’s heart should have been.

  Blood and viscous liquid poured out down over my hand, making the knife slippery and difficult to hold onto. Still, I pressed on. The moment my blade found what it was looking for, the light in the creature’s eyes went dark, the power snuffed out like a candle flame.

  Releasing the body, I pulled my blade free. The sucking sound it made as it exited the wound rolled my stomach, but there wasn't time to react as a shout drew my attention toward the centre of the cemetery. The creature had been nothing but a distraction, simply something to keep me occupied as Jasper completed whatever he had planned.

  "Shit, shit, shit," I muttered beneath my breath. Drawing my power around me like a cloak, I started toward the centre. Gunfire exploded nearby, and I rounded a corner to find Victoria bloodied, breathing hard, her human glamour gone as she was in the full thrall of her changeling side. Another ghost-like creature attacked her, its mouth dark with her changeling blood.

  "I can't get my hands on it," she said, gritting the words out as the creature’s teeth sank into her shoulder. She screamed and dug her talons into its smoky body.

  Magic crawled from my skin, wrapping around the creature’s ethereal body and forcing it to take physical form.

  "What are you doing?" Victoria barked, her black changeling eyes snapping with power as my magic tasted her blood.

  The creature scored its clawed fingers across Victoria's chest as she snatched it up in her hands. Realisation dawned on Victoria's face, her grin widening as she ripped the creature in half with her bare hands.

  I almost felt sorry for the creature as it screamed and writhed in her grip. The putrid smell of rot filled the air and I struggled not to gag. Victoria dropped the creature and scrabbled around in what remained of its chest cavity, her hand reappearing seconds later with a misshapen lump of viscera, which she crushed between her fingers.

  The creature’s pained cries ceased instantly, and only the sound of chanting and screaming from the centre of the cemetery remained.

  "Do you think you could use your power to give the remaining creatures a physical form?" she asked, the words sounding strange and hollow. Clearly, her glamour wasn't just for aesthetic purposes, but something that went much further than skin deep, changing even the sound of her voice and the way she formed words.

  Closing my eyes, I let my power go, releasing the hold I usually kept on it. My power’s eagerness as it flowed through the cemetery should have concerned me, but this was only the second time I'd allowed it such free reign. And the first time I'd allowed it, I had killed Fionn. Throwing my head back, power flowed through me, a combination of pain and pleasure that had me desperate to give in to my true nature.

  "Amber, enough," Victoria said, her hand on my arm drawing my attention.

  I stared at her through the haze of my power, and I could see her own magic, swirling through and around her form. It was there for the taking if I wanted it....

  "Don't, love!" Nic called to me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at him. When had he gotten here? Something struggled in my grip and I turned my attention back to Victoria. My hand was wrapped around her throat and she was on her knees before me, the taste of her power tripping across my tongue as I slowly siphoned it away from her.

  There was fear in her black eyes and it sent a thrill through me. I had put the fear in her eyes.

  Nic's hand on my shoulder had me release Victoria with a jerk. She dropped, her hands digging in the dirt as she struggled to suck in deep breaths.

  "Why do you stop me?" I asked, turning to Nic.

  I should have been afraid of him. He was a Saga Venatione; a true hunter. His power could douse mine in an instant. It would be at his hands I would find death, if he wished it. Staring into his eyes, I could see my demise reflected back to me. I waited for the fiery touch of his power, but nothing came.

  "You have work to do, Amber, but you have to control what you are..." Nic said.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Heddou stumble out from between the tombs, blood streaking down one side of his face. "What happened?" he asked, his expression shifting to one of concern as he met Nic's eyes.

  "She just needs a minute," Nic said, squeezing my arm.

  "Why aren't you stopping me?" I asked, feeling more and more like myself with every second that ticked by.

  "Because I shared a piece of my soul with you, Amber. It hides what you are; your magic tastes like mine," he said.

  He spoke the truth. I could feel his magic pulsing
faintly at the edges of my own, like a shadow from the corner of my eye that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Swallowing back my power, I struggled to shove it down inside. It seemed once the genie was out of the bottle, it never truly went back in.

  "Marcel needs help," Heddou said, snapping me out of my concentration of my own power.

  The screams we'd heard earlier were gone, replaced with an eerie silence that filled me with dread. Silence during a battle was usually a bad sign, and in much the same way as it was with children or pets, eerie silences shouldn't ever be ignored.

  Victoria drew herself up onto her feet and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. It came away stained with blood, which surprised me. She was so much stronger than I was, and it took a lot to make her bleed. She eyed me warily before taking off after Heddou, who had disappeared back through the tombs.

  Nic released the hold he had on my arm. The moment his fingers left my skin, I felt his loss.

  "Why are you here?" I asked.

  "Graham sent me. He said he'd offered you some back-up but he thought you wouldn't call it in...."

  "So he sent you instead?"

  Nic smiled. "Good thing, too, or you'd have levelled the place," he said.

  I didn't answer him, I drew my gun from its holster. He wasn't wrong; I'd felt just how out of control my magic had been. I'd tried to drain Victoria, and I didn't remember how I'd come to be holding her by the throat. Was this what it had been like for all the shadow sorcerers? Because if it was then I was honestly starting to believe that the hunters hadn't been wrong to hunt them down.

  "I didn't mean it like that," he said.

  "No, you're right. I think I would, Nic, and honestly, that scares me more than I care to admit … but right now we've got bigger fish to fry. If Jasper gets the gates open, we're all screwed."

  "The gates?"

  I remembered, then, that he hadn't been there for Heddou's little speech and Marcel's explanation of Kalfu's plans.

  "The gates of Hell. Kalfu needs his body and surprise, surprise: it's in Hell," I said, trying to keep the worst of my sarcasm from my voice. "It couldn't exist in a dimension of fluffy bunnies, or someplace with super cute care-bears and unicorns."

  "Unicorns are overrated, and they come with their own set of issues," Nic said, without missing a beat. "Plus, every Harry Styles-loving tween from here to kingdom come would descend upon us to take selfies with the poor thing before it succumbed to the Lord of Darkness due to virgin overload."

  I stared at Nic for a second before a giggle erupted from my lips. "I didn't peg you for a Tom Cruise fan," I said.

  He grinned back at me as he followed me into the cemetery. "If it wasn't obvious, I'm not."

  "Not obvious at all.”

  While we were carrying one, one of the creatures launched itself from the top of one of the tombs.

  "Duck!" I cried.

  Nic's concentration was far too split and he shouldn't have been able to react in time, but I watched as he whirled to the side, his body dropping low to the ground so that the creature crashed into a tombstone nearby.

  "You okay?" I asked.

  Nic nodded. "I got this … you go," he said. His grin was gone, replaced with a grim expression as he turned to face the ghoul that had now regained its feet.

  I took him at his word and took off for the main battle.

  The centre of the cemetery seemed oddly devoid of action. I caught sight of Victoria battling three of the ghouls in a small clearing beneath the trees, but Heddou and Marcel were nowhere to be seen.

  The flickering of candles caught my eye and I moved toward the lights as quietly as my booted feet would allow. Trees closed in around me as I made my way further into the oldest section of the cemetery. When I stepped off the path and into the clearing where the candles sat, I almost bumped into Heddou. He was slumped next to a broken headstone; his top hat lay next to him on the ground and a small trickle of blood crept down over his right eyebrow.

  I pressed my fingers to his throat, and relief washed through me as I felt his pulse thick and steady against his skin.

  Ducking beneath a broken branch that Heddou had obviously been flung into, my gaze focussed in on the scene before me.

  The woman I now knew as Widelene stood near the edge of the clearing on the opposite side to me. Her body was spread between two trees, her arms tied at the wrists, her legs spread and tied at the ankles in an X shape. Her head was slumped forward, and her long, dark hair covered her face. Marcel stood next to her, his hand cupping her cheek.

  "I'm sorry," she said, her voice carrying across the clearing.

  "It wasn't your fault, love. She took your memories, stole your will, but you remember now," Marcel said, turning to work at the knotted ropes holding her in place. The moment he touched them, she cried out, her head lolling back, exposing the ragged cuts that curved down between her chest. Something or someone had carved her up; the dark stain that covered the front of her blouse was clearly blood.

  "Don't, please, Marcel … it hurts," she whimpered.

  "I can't leave you like this—you'll die," he said, his voice cracking over the words.

  "I am already dead," she said. " Don't let my last moments with you be ones of agony…. Just kiss me."

  Something moved in my peripheral vision and I stepped to the side as Tess lunged from the tree line and crashed into me. At least, I thought it was Tess, but it was almost impossible to tell beneath the crusted blood and mutilated features that made up her face.

  She snarled and snapped at me as I pulled the trigger on my gun.

  The sound was muffled as the bullets thudded into her corpse.

  "Tess, stop! I can help you!" I struggled against her as she knocked the gun from my hands and we rolled to the ground.

  "You created her, and you know more than anyone that there is nothing you can do to help her now. Ghouls cannot be saved," A familiar voice spoke to me from somewhere just out of sight, but I was too busy fighting to keep Tess's teeth from sinking into my abdomen that I couldn't turn to see him.

  "I can save her," I said, turning my attention back to Tess. "I know you can hear me." She forced her face closer to my stomach, her jaw snapping open and shut.

  Locking my legs around her, I fought to gain the upper hand, but she held the strength of the those who do not feel pain. My arms shook and my muscles ached and still she pushed against me, her teeth snapping against the white T-shirt I wore.

  "Tess, please, stop!" I cried, pushing power into my voice. I let it flow forward into and through her body, wrapping her in the bindings of my magic, willing her spirit to find peace. It slithered off her skin and she jerked her head lower, her nose pressing into my stomach. When she bit down again, I screamed as pain rushed through me and tears clouded my vision.

  "Destroy her!" Marcel shouted to me.

  "Tess, please," I said again, but the creature sitting atop me growled as it ground its teeth into my flesh.

  I'd promised I would help her, sworn I could protect her, and I'd failed her in the worst way possible by turning her into the creature she was now.

  "I'm so sorry," I said, drawing power from my core. The pain intensified as her teeth bit deeper into my middle.

  Her death-grey eyes met mine as I forced my magic into her, willing the power to rip her apart from the inside.

  "Rend flesh from bone, spirit from body. I cast you into night and far from home. Wander forth, o' demon, for there can be no rest for one so wicked!"

  The creature that had once been Tess Greenville screamed in response to the spell; its head flung back on its neck that had been savaged by one of Jasper's other zombies. And then it was gone, a fine, bloody mist spraying down onto my face, body, and the leaves surrounding me, the only sign she had been here at all.

  Jasper's laughter pushed me over the edge, rage mixing with the despair I felt over having to end the life of an innocent. Pushing up onto my feet, I stared at him as he raised a blood covered hand and sme
ared it down over his own mottled and partially-rotted face.

  "The gate is open..." he said, raising a curved knife in his other hand. The ground started to split, roiling and boiling beneath my feet as the earth churned toward the sky. The overwhelming smell of sulphur filled the air.

  Marcel stepped up beside me and pressed the clay pot Gran Ibo had given us into my hands.

  "When the moment is right, trust your instincts," he said.

  He darted toward Jasper, leaping the split that was rapidly spreading and forcing us all further apart.

  "Marcel, no!" I shouted after him, but it was too late.

  "The ritual isn't complete without the destruction of your vessel," Marcel said, grabbing the knife and smearing something dark across Jasper's rotted face.

  Kalfu or Jasper—I wasn't sure which—screamed and scrabbled at the muck Marcel had spread as it hissed and smoked on their skin.

  "Baron Samedi, take my essence and protect this boy!" Marcel shouted.

  The air next to Marcel shimmered and a tall man with a top hat and black tux appeared next to him.

  His face came and went like a television on the fritz, one moment a white, shining skull that grinned in the moonlight, and the next, a handsome black man with cotton plugs in his nose, the kind that corpses were given before being embalmed.

  "You keep your promises, boy," Baron Samedi said, his grin widening as he patted Marcel's shoulder.

  "Now keep yours," Marcel answered, and pointed to Jasper.

  Jasper had cleared enough of the mud from his eyes that he gripped the blade anew and drew it across his throat in a slashing motion.

  Baron Samedi shook his head and clucked his disapproval. The blade shattered against Jasper's skin, leaving his neck unblemished, the skin unbroken by the blade's sharp edge.

  "The Baron always keeps his promises," Baron Samedi said, before emitting a low whistle that caused Jasper to convulse. He shuddered and shook, white foam appearing around his lips as he dropped to his knees. He threw back his head and opened his mouth wide in a silent scream as a dark mist tore from his throat and filled the air.