Chapter 14
Pain shot through Dominic’s knuckles as they scraped against the stone floor, blood in their wake.
Better his hand cracking against the solid ground rather than Adara’s skull, his palm protectively cradling the back of her head as they went down.
Rivulets of blood slid down his torso from the sharp sting of the Whisperer’s knife-like fingers slashing into his skin.
It was only a matter of seconds that Dominic had Adara pinned to the ground—narrowly avoiding a fatal slash the Whisperer had aimed at her—before she twisted out of his grip and was on top of him.
Her knee dug harshly into his chest, keeping him down.
A groan slipped past his lips from his aching wounds.
She angled her sword at his throat. Even blindfolded, she knew exactly what she was doing.
“I told you, love, under different circumstances, I wouldn’t mind this,” he said casually, not making an effort to shove her off. The bite of the metal was cool against his throat. “But now is not the time.”
Ignoring his lewd remark, Adara shoved herself off him and turned. Dominic quickly rose to his feet, disregarding his blood leaving wet trails of warmth behind.
“You’re hurt,” Adara said. She must have felt the slickness of his blood beneath them when they tumbled to the ground.
“I’m fine,” Dominic hissed back. A few cuts were nothing he couldn’t handle. He hardly noticed the pain. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he frantically searched the dark cavern for the Whisperer.
A shadowy figure emerged from the depths of the cave. He stepped in front of Adara, one hand outstretched behind him, inches away from her own in case he needed to grab her and run. The other held a long dagger out in front of him.
“Come on, demon,” he muttered. The world around them was so silent that his whispered words reverberated loudly. His eyes scanned every inch of the dark cave as the air shifted around him.
Behind him, Adara yelped. A stifled cry of pain that made him face her, pinning her back to the stone wall and pressing his body against hers, shielding her from every angle. “I’m all right,” she breathed quietly. “Startled more than hurt. Just a nick on my arm.”
He didn’t care. He held her there for a long, silent moment, their bodies practically melded together.
The heavy rise and fall of her chest moved against his, their shaking breaths mixing in the foul air.
For a while, they didn’t move, hoping the blind creature wouldn’t sense them.
If it weren’t for the terror coursing through him, Dominic would have taken the time to memorize the feeling of her body pressed to his, outline the curve of her hips with his hands, and trace the column of her throat with his tongue.
All a ploy to buy her love with physical affection.
Through the dark, he could see nothing. A void that swallowed any trace of light.
The Whisperer’s movements were too quick for him to pick up on.
A whoosh of air to his left, a scuttle of feet to the right, a breeze from above, a cackle from across the room.
It moved swiftly, like moving through tears in the fabric of the world.
Pain lanced through the back of Dominic’s right leg.
His knees buckled, blood pooling beneath him.
Hissing in agony, he forced himself to straighten, to turn, to fight this ancient creature that could kill him with one glance, one word.
The Whisperer hissed from somewhere deep in the cave, its haunting voice echoing in his ears.
How do you expect to protect her when you can’t even protect yourself?
Dominic’s blood dripped to the floor, the sound of its spatter mocking him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the faint outline of Adara with her back still pressed against the wall, sword readied in front of her. The Whisperer was nowhere to be seen.
“When I tell you,” he said to her, eyes still searching the dark. There had been a sconce on the wall when he’d left her alone to search the cave, perhaps they outlined the entire cavern. “I need you to light the sconces on the walls. They’re about eye-level,” he informed.
“I can’t,” she replied, voice wavering. Her hands shook, grip tightening on the hilt. “My magic is suppressed.”
A gust of wind almost knocked him off his feet. He whirled in its direction. Still, the creature was shrouded by shadows. It was taunting them, playing with them like a feline with a rodent before its meal.
“The cave doesn’t suppress magic. Only the Whisperer is immune. I’ll get it far enough away from you, and when I tell you to, light the candles,” he explained. He would have done it himself, but she’d be safer with her magic while he distracted it and it suppressed his own.
“What if I miss and burn you?” she asked as if he were crazy. Blindfolded, she had no clear aim.
He repeated, “Eye-level. I’ll duck.”
She huffed in response, no doubt hating how much trust she had to place in him for this to work.
Carefully, Dominic stepped deeper into the cave, leaving Adara behind him.
It took everything in him not to turn around, to run back to her and make sure she was safe.
The air chilled around him, making the hair on his arms stand up.
Before the Whisperer could sneak up on him again, he whirled on the presence to his left, dagger slashing out wildly.
The familiar resistance of his blade cutting through flesh and sinew had pride surging through him.
The thing shrieked, its high-pitched scream resounding through the cavern.
Though Dominic wanted nothing more than to cover his ears to block that horrid sound of its pain, he didn’t stop there.
It was too dark to see what he was doing, but he felt the knife cut through flesh.
Warm liquid sprayed on his hand, and he knew he’d given the Whisperer a deep, possibly fatal wound.
It screamed again, sounding like a dozen children being tormented. The noise made Dominic shudder.
Then the sound halted, and the air stilled. It wasn’t dead, not yet. His dagger hadn’t struck a vital organ—if the thing even had organs. It would have taken longer for the Whisperer to bleed out. It must have run off, buying them some time to gather their composure.
“Light it up, love,” Dominic said loudly enough for Adara to hear, wherever she was in this enormous cave.
Her only response was a wave of fire, blindingly bright against the darkness.
Dominic ducked, covering his eyes as the flames soared overhead, striking the wall.
Then it was gone. The sconces ignited, bringing the entire cavern to life.
When he removed his hands from his shielded eyes and rose to full height, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the spindly creature. A shout rang from his lips.
“On your left!” he warned, a desperate cry as the Whisperer charged at Adara.
The ancient being was much more terrifying in the light, and suddenly, Dominic wished they’d stayed in the dark.
Its leathery gray skin that clung tightly to its skeletal body was a blur as it lunged for Adara, but she’d heard his warning in time.
Turning to defend herself, her sword arced overhead, coming down in one clean swipe.
Its dagger-like talons didn’t even get the chance to claw her before she sliced clean through its withered arm. Black blood sprayed from the wound.
The Whisperer screeched as its severed limb clattered to the ground, landing atop a pile of bones.
Rotten flesh still clung to some of them.
The smell of carrion was more potent than before.
The stone walls and floor were stained dark crimson—dried blood from the fools who’d sought the Whisperer.
Dominic silently swore that his and Adara’s bones would not be added to the carnage.
The Whisperer swiped at Adara again with a claw-tipped hand.
She must have sensed its movement because she grabbed its spindly arm, spun so her back was to its chest, and elbowed it hard in its pointed nose.
The bone crunched beneath her blow, and before the blood even began flowing from its broken nose, Adara yanked its arm over her shoulder, using it as leverage to toss its body over her.
The Whisperer slammed into the pile of flesh and bones with a grunt.
She kept hold of its arm, twisting it until it snapped.
Dominic let out a breath, impressed with how she just disarmed an ancient creature with such ease . . . blindfolded.
It shrieked again. Then its bones snapped back into place and its arm regrew. Dominic swore.
“What?” Adara asked.
There had been no information in any of the books he’d read about its healing capabilities. “It can regenerate,” he informed her.
It scrambled toward Adara on its hands and knees. Grabbing her ankle, it jerked her feet out from under her. She let out a yelp as she fell. Dominic lunged forward with the intent to catch her—
Her head hit the ground with a thud.
She groaned, lifting a hand to the back of her head, but didn’t get up.
Dominic grabbed the Whisperer by its ankle, dragging it away from Adara as it clawed at her.
The high-pitched noise from its talons scraping against stone had him wincing.
Its bones, old and brittle beneath his grasp, were easy to break as he snapped its ankle, still dragging it across the blood-caked floor.
It hissed, finally turning its attention to him. Dominic made sure to avoid its eyes. Instead, his gaze landed on the Whisperer’s sharp, jagged teeth, stained with dried blood, bared at him in a warning.
Look at me, it whispered, mouth not even moving.
He felt its breath in his head, like it was speaking within his brain. Its claws scraped at his mind, trying to dig their way deeper inside.
A monster will understand a monster, the voice hissed.
Dominic winced as the claws raked harder. It felt like his mind was about to be torn apart from the inside.
Let me have a peek.