Chapter Twenty-Three #2
The first thing I become aware of is the signs of agitation in the horses that weren’t there before, and then, below the noise of the guys talking, I notice the absolute silence. The surrounding forest is utterly devoid of all the usual noise that was there only moments ago.
Leaning closer to Killian, his tail, which always seeks me out when I’m close, is resting on my thigh, stroking it every now and then. I quietly say, “Do you hear that?”
He tilts his head at me, gauging my expression before listening, “Nothing, and there should be. We’re being watched.”
The guys start to notice that something is amiss, and I make a motion with my hand for them to keep talking like normal.
Storm and Killian seem to do some communication thing with their eyes, and then I see the subtle hint of their shadows flow across the ground, searching the surrounding forest for whoever is watching us.
When both their eyes widen, the rest of us abandon the guise of talking casually and place our hands on our various weapons.
“I’m picking up at least twenty,” Kill says, and Storm nods in response, confirming the same number.
As one, we climb to our feet, drawing our weapons and proving how closely we’re being watched, when we hear a shout. The horses immediately scatter like they’re trained to do in this situation, so they don’t get hurt, and we don’t lose our escape.
My eyes widen as at least twenty assassins exit the forest surrounding us on all sides and clearly working together.
“At least we know for certain that it was a setup,” Loki says drily, twirling his sword.
There’s no more time for talking as they all rush us, and the clang of metal suddenly surrounds me.
I don’t have the chance to keep an eye on the others and make sure they’re okay, as I’m surrounded by at least five of these fuckers.
There’s something about them that is almost familiar, but I get no time to really ponder that strange familiarity as they all attack at once.
My double blades practically sing through the air as I slice, spin, and dive to avoid attacks.
I’m showing them no mercy as my years of training, and all my skills come out to play.
A spell comes at me from the left, and I throw my magic at it, unravelling the death spell and reforming it before sending it straight back to the fucker who sent it at me, watching as he drops to the floor paralysed but still awake and seeing a living nightmare I weaved in.
It's one of my favourite things to do.
The bodies start to pile up around me, and I get a brief reprieve from attackers just long enough to glance around at the others.
They’ve all got their own bodies surrounding them and look excited by the fight and being able to use their gifts to their full advantage.
They can move fucking fast, faster than they should be able to.
Not only that, but they’re each using skills and magic that they shouldn’t be able to.
Storm’s shadows are behaving as weapons in their own right, slicing and invading various attackers.
Watching the shadows enter through someone’s nose and then explode them from the inside is both fascinating and terrifying at the same time.
Killian’s having a field day moving through the shadows and slitting people’s throats with his tail and his blade.
Loki is looking every bit the vampire he is as he uses his speed and fangs to cut through his enemies, blood drips down his chin as his eyes glow.
The twins, Mayhem and Rival, are not only using Water and Air to incapacitate their opponents but seem to be using all the elements that are available to the fae and that they shouldn’t have control over.
It looks like I’m not the only one who was keeping things to myself.
I highly doubt that the Headmaster knows just how strong they are and how many gifts they each have.
Reaper is using his strength to take down his opponents and that mysterious fire he used when I had to go into the Void, but there’s no sign of his beast. I know that’s probably a good thing, but I’m still disappointed I don’t know what he is.
Just before I turn away, I see Killian and Storm fighting together back to back.
They get surrounded and, after a quick glance at each other, explode into shadows.
When they reform, it’s in the shape of enormous shadow beasts, their horns still present and wrapped in their flames.
I had no fucking idea that was even possible.
You're either a Shadow Weaver or a Shifter. I didn’t realise it was possible to be both, and it's fucking mesmerising to watch them. I have so many questions.
My magic suddenly rears up, just in time to block a blow coming at me.
I was so distracted by the brothers that I’d let myself forget where we were, and I would be dead if it weren’t for my magic.
There’s no time to think about how my magic has never done that before and pretty much acted by itself. I’ll worry about it later.
A fresh wave of attackers come storming out of the woods as I fight one after another, bodies littering the floor in my wake as I slice my way through.
I am dodging magical attacks at the same time as fighting off physical ones and throwing my own attacks at people as well.
There’s the smell of burnt flesh, cries of pain, shouts of encouragement, and it never seems to be ending.
I start to lose my confidence that I’m going to survive this fight.
I have no idea how long we’ve been fighting with no reprieve.
They just keep fucking coming. I do know that I’m starting to tire, and my magic is starting to become harder to pull to the surface and harder to control.
Fighting tired leads to mistakes, but not fighting will obviously mean I die for sure.
I put all my strength and energy into focusing on the fuckers still coming for me. Someone swings a sword at my head as someone else shoots a spell at me, and I’m so focused on simultaneously unravelling the magic and deflecting the blade, that I completely miss the one aiming for my back.
I scream in pain as it pierces my skin, and a wave of unbelievable anger consumes me. My magic lashes out, killing those nearest me in a way that I’m not even sure how. They just disintegrate into what looks like black glitter, which I am familiar with, but definitely not in these circumstances.
A deafening roar shakes the clearing and everything freezes. Reaper’s glowing eyes are locked on the wound that went all the way through my back and out my stomach. I sway on my feet, falling to my knees despite my best effort to stay standing.
“Get her!” Someone bellows.
The roar intensifies, some of the trees around the edge falling from the sheer force of it.
I look up from the ground to see the assassins start to back up.
None of their attention is on me, but all directed to a deadly looking Reaper.
His outline starts to waver, and I watch as, in one move that seems choreographed, all of my men rush to me.
“I’m sorry, Love, I’m going to have to move you. He’s too far gone, and we can’t have you in the path of it,” Loki mutters quickly, scooping me up and wincing at my yell of pain.
Reaper roars again. This time it’s somehow deeper, more deadly and sends a shiver down my spine. I’m barely aware when I’m placed at the edge of the clearing, far enough away from Reaper but still with a visual.
I’m clearly not the only one watching in shock as his form starts to shake rapidly. There are around thirty of the third wave of fuckers just stood staring.