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In the chaos, I stumbled back, turning to find myself facing one of Myst’s guards. His eyes glittered and he began to unhinge his jaw. I screamed, first out of fear, then out of outrage. I brought the knife up, staring at it, feeling the tingle race through my hand. It would be so easy to give in…to let the rage overtake me.
The Shadow Hunter saw the blade and a streak of fear fled across his face. He started to back away, and I followed, arm still upraised, the blade urging me on. Kill them, kill them, take their blood, take their bodies, feast on their souls, drink their spirits…
And why not? They are intent on feasting on us. The thought sprang to mind, and I laughed, slow and easy, as I leaped on him. He rolled to the side, though, before I could reach him, and my blade shrieked, cheated out of its offering. I turned, altering my position to match his. As he once again dodged to the side, I anticipated his move and was there waiting.
“Surprise! I’m not so unobservant, after all.” I swiped the knife at him, stabbing for his shoulder, and the tip of the dagger kissed cloth, ripping through his shirt. He howled, and once again his jaw stretched as he tried to transform. But I struck again, this time with the edge of the blade, and sliced a thin weal across his face. Blood began to drip down from the gash, and my blade sang to me.
Thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, take him now, take him for me.
I wanted to obey, but reason caught the little part of me that was actually listening, and whispered, No, you must control the blade—you cannot let it to continue to control you.
Fighting to retain mastery, I forced away the drive to wantonly strike back.
Clear thought, I must have clear thought. Winds of the world, clear my head. I hadn’t expected an answer, but a clear light breeze rushed through my mind and the desire to indiscriminately kill and feast backpedaled. My glance darted quickly around us—there were people fighting on all sides, and I could hear the groans and sighs of those going down for the last count, on both sides.
A nearby section of the massive fight opened up and I caught sight of Grieve in wolf form, a bloody arm in his mouth. It looked like one of the Shadow Hunters’. At that moment, the gap closed and I couldn’t see him anymore, but I had my own worries.
The Shadow Hunter had taken advantage of my momentary lapse of attention to scuttle closer. He was on me now, and I could feel his breath and see the needle-sharp teeth poised over my shoulder. His eyes—the same black with sparkling stars as Grieve’s—glimmered with bloodlust.
“Mine,” he whispered. “The heart, give me your heart.”
Only he wasn’t asking for my love. He lunged at me and I brought up the knife. The blade sang as I slashed forward, ripping into his throat, severing his jugular. The dagger gave me good aim, it guided my hand, seeking out the flow and pulse of blood, and now as the liquid spurted from the severed artery, the blade shrieked with delight. I knew better than to pull back—the dagger would be furious, and so I bathed it in the blood, and the sensuous feel of the slick, viscous liquid pouring down the blade and over my hand sent me reeling. I came right there, the orgasm ripping a shriek out of my throat.
“Cicely!” Chatter’s voice echoed through the brawling mob, over the sound of groans and thuds and the whistling of blades landing in flesh. He broke through a fight between two of the Fae and a Shadow Hunter, but he took one look at my face, then at the blade and the Shadow Hunter who was writhing on the floor, and stopped.
“Finish him off and get on to the next one,” was the only thing he said.
I caught his gaze, and whether it was repulsion or worry, I couldn’t discern, but the look on his face sent an icicle through my heart. Snorting, I turned back to the Shadow Hunter. Let Chatter fight his battles his own way. He didn’t understand the glory of the blood. I fell on the Vampiric Fae and finished him off, leaning down to lick up a long swath of the crimson life-force. As I did, two boots landed in front of me, and I looked up to see Lannan staring down. He gave me a slow, sensuous smile, full lipped, and then blew me a kiss and was off again.
I dragged myself up in a haze brought on by the energy of the fight, the taste of the blood, the urging of the blade. In fact, blood was flying everywhere, and it was a wonder the vampires were keeping themselves in check.
The fight was thick, and I pushed my way through a group of Fae engaging a couple of the Shadow Hunters. As I came out the other side, I saw Ysandra and the five Consortium members wearing robes. They were facing a group of five Shadow Hunters. Ysandra was gritting her teeth, her hands palms forward, as if she were pushing a great weight.
The ripple from her hands told me she was keeping back the Shadow Hunters while the five robed witches prepared a spell. Another moment and they joined hands, forming a human pentagram with Ysandra in the center. The energy began to flow, surging through their arms as the elements entwined. Earth to air, air to fire, fire to water, water to spirit, and finally, spirit combined them and focused them through Ysandra. She opened her eyes abruptly, as if she’d woken from a deep sleep, and then her palms quivered and a blast of energy ricocheted from her palms, sending the Shadow Hunters sprawling, howling as they tried to cover their eyes.
The force, strong and brilliant, rippled through the room, and every Shadow Hunter there screamed. The next moment, four of the Fae warriors moved in and, before they could protect themselves, the five Vampiric Fae on the floor were lying dead, their throats slit neatly through.
Ysandra folded, caught up by the arms of her comrades, then within seconds, she stood again, looking ragged. I pushed my way up to her. “Can you do that again?”
“Not for a while, the force of the power racing through me tears me up inside. But I have other tricks up my sleeve.” With that, she turned and vanished into the crowd, looking for the next enemy.
Another flash, though not nearly as intense, told me that more magic was being cast, and then I saw Rhiannon and Peyton. They were fending off one of the Shadow Hunters. Luna was singing something that seemed to be giving them extra strength, but the Vampiric Fae was a strong one, and he looked hungry. He was pressing in on them.
I rushed up behind him and plunged the dagger between his shoulders, again shuddering as the blade tasted blood. I was really beginning to take a dislike to the dagger as much as I welcomed the help it gave me.
The Shadow Hunter stumbled forward, tripping over one of the Cambyra Fae who looked very dead. I ripped the blade out of his back and struck again, but this time he turned to block me with his arm, and the dagger slipped from my fingers, they were so slick with blood.
He grinned and came at me. I turned to run, but he caught me by the legs and took me down, crawling up me as he turned me on my back. Looming over me, he tilted his head and licked his lips. “You are the one the Mother wants. I will reap a great reward because I have you.” And he pulled my hands together and began to bind them.
“No!” My scream echoed through the hall and I felt something well up within me. The winds were pressing me. Ulean shrieked at me, and the next moment I tilted my head back and caught hold of the gusts.
“Gale force.” My words came out in a whisper, but they echoed around me as a great force pushed me to my feet, ravaging my mind, chilling me through as it carried me forward. I cast aside the rope, arms opening wide. As I began to turn, my feet left the floor, and I felt myself rising up, caught aloft on the wind that began to rattle through the room.
As I whirled, hanging in midair, I began to catch up chairs and vases and lighter objects in my vortex. Slowly at first, I spun, head hanging back, arms spread wide, and from my fingertips the winds began to come, first lightly and then—as the spinning increased in speed—harder. A chair went crashing across the room, then another. A tapestry flew off the wall to cover a group of combatants. The fireplace tools sailed though the air, becoming lethal weapons as the poker sank itself deep into the chest of one of the Shadow Hunters.
Swept into the dance, I was unable to control what was happening. And then, as the fighting came to a halt, all eyes on me, I began to laugh, terrified, as the vortex began to spin in earnest.
Lainule pushed through the crowd, somehow withstanding the winds. I could hear Ulean at her side, though I could not hear what they were saying. The slipstream was as useful to me now as a piece of gum.
