The monster charges, ignoring the gods and still aiming for me. Dreven raises a hand, and shadows leap from the ground, thick and tangible as tar, wrapping around the creature’s legs and holding it fast. Voren sends another wave of that soul-deep cold, and the shadows freeze, locking the beast in place. Dastian unleashes his chaos-bolt, and it hits the creature square in its boar-like face with a deafening crack.
The monster shatters into a thousand pieces of frozen, shadowy chitin that clatter to the muddy ground and dissolve into nothing.
Silence falls, broken only by the steady drumming of the rain.
I push myself up onto my elbows, my ribs screaming a protest that’s almost as loud as the monster’s was. The three of them stand there, a picture of divine power, looking down at the empty patch of mud.
“Well,” Dastian says, dusting off his hands. “That was fun.”
Fun isn’t the word I’d use. Humiliating is closer to themark. I finally manage to get to my feet, swaying slightly. “I had that,” I lie through my teeth, my voice hoarse.
Three pairs of ancient, otherworldly eyes turn to me. And for the first time, ever, I feel completely and utterly out of my depth.
“By had, did you mean didn’t have?” Dastian asks.
Dreven ignores Dastian, his gaze intensifying. His voice is low, cutting through the rain. “You’re injured.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it’s delivered with an infuriating lack of emotion that makes me want to punch him.
“I’m fine,” I bite out, clutching my side. A lie. A spectacular, obvious lie. Pain lances through my ribs with every breath I take.
“You’re bleeding,” Voren observes, his pale blue eyes fixed on a spot on my leggings where the monster’s leg must have torn the fabric. I hadn’t even noticed.
Dastian takes a step towards me. “See? This is what we were talking about. You charge in, blade first, and almost end up as monster chow. You need us.”
“I need you to piss off,” I spit, stumbling back a step. The mud makes a sucking sound, trying to claim my trainer. “I had a plan.”
“Your plan was to get impaled?” Dastian retorts, an eyebrow raised.
“My plan was to find the weak spot, which I did,” I say, gesturing vaguely with my blade. “You just got in the way.”
Dreven’s jaw tightens. “Your recklessness nearly got you killed. That thing was not of the supernatural world, slayer. Your blade alone would not have been enough.”
The truth of his words stings more than my ribs. I hate it. I hate them. I hate this feeling of being small and breakable in the face of things I don’t understand. I turn my backon them, a deliberate dismissal, and start limping down the hill. “I don’t need a lecture. I’m leaving.”
“And going where?” Voren’s voice follows me, laced with that damnably calm amusement. “Back to your Order, to lie about the monsters you can’t kill on your own?”
I freeze, my back still to them. How does he know I lied? Did his ghosts tell him? The humiliation burns hotter than any injury. I don’t turn around. I just start walking again, each squelching step an admission of defeat.
Chapter 13
Dreven
“She is as stubborn as a goddess,” I mutter to her retreating back.
“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” Voren says.
I turn my gaze from her proud, retreating form to Voren. “I think her defiance is the only thing keeping her alive. It is a trait bred into her line.”
My focus returns to Nyssa, a small, stubborn figure against the vast, grey misery of the landscape. She falters, her hand pressing harder against her ribs, but she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t look back. That pride will be her undoing.
“She’s a liability,” Voren murmurs, his tone deceptively casual. “Her refusal to accept reality will get us all killed.”
“She is not a liability,” I correct him, my voice colder than the wind. “She is the weapon. And she is bleeding. The scent will draw others.”
The other two fall silent. They know I am right. That stitched-together horror was just the beginning. A probe. The real predator is still out there, and it has tasted the air around the slayer. It knows she is here.
I let the shadows claim me, the world dissolving into shades of grey. I will not let her die from a moment of foolish pride. She is mine to protect, whether she wants it or not. I will follow her home, a silent guardian to ensure no other scavenger comes to finish the job.
That thing was a harbinger. She’s the only one who can face what’s coming. If she dies from a broken rib and a fit of pique, we’re all royally fucked. My gaze hardens as Nyssa stumbles, catching herself against a stone wall before pushing on.
