Stepping forward, the guy's eyes widen in shock, and I realize that somehow he genuinely couldn’t see me. All I can see when I glance over my shoulder though is a shadow.
Huh.
My sword pierces the heart of the guy as my focus remains on the shadow, and I turn to face it fully as the guy drops to the floor.
Testing my theory, I step toward it, and this time I feel as that new magic wraps around me and pulls me into the warm embrace of the shadow.
Well, that’s new.
I’m going to assume that it has something to do with the new magic that the Choosing gave us all. Although I can’t work out how being able to step into the shadows has anything to do with death, apart from the fact that I can kill a lot more stealthily from in the shadows.
Testing to see the scope of this new magic, I zone in on a shadow just across from me, and sure enough, my body seems to turn into shadow itself as I move across the floor and into the new shadow.
Fucking hell, this is awesome.
My smile is deadly as I realize the advantage that this gives me, especially the fact that no one can see me. Still shrouded within shadows, I call on my swords made of magic and see if they gain the attention of anyone. When no one looks at me, I know that they can’t see me, even with my swords glowing.
Let’s fucking do this.
I move within the shadows, becoming the shadow itself as I move from one pool of shadows to another, my swords moving with me. Although the feeling is new, it doesn’t feel wrong or uncomfortable. It’s like I’ve always been able to do it.
My swords slice through necks, taking heads, and I quickly realize that my new swords are more than just weapons. When I use them, they somehow manage to harness more of what fuels this darker part of my magic, and I’m soon satiated.
While I love using the shadows, I also do a lot of normal fighting as well, since I enjoy it, but the use of my shadows is definitely handy.
I can’t wait to tell the guys about them. Raiden is going to have a field day with this one.
Van
I’m fighting on the main floor, in the arena where the majority of The Owners’ men have gathered.
My magic isn’t behaving like it’s supposed to, or rather it’s not behaving like it usually does. I’m having to keep a stronger grip on it than I normally have to, and there’s something else mixed into it, something that isn’t usually there, but is undoubtedly mine.
I’m assuming that it’s the Choosing gifted magic, but whatever it is, it’s strong as fuck.
My gaze drifts to the door that I know Neith and the others will be coming through as soon as they’re done with the kidnapped supernaturals. I take a vamp's hand and pin him to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as I see Neith and the others walking through the door.
They’re all okay.
There’s someone new with them though, and I’m assuming he’s a prisoner, judging from the look of him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Van
“Everything okay?” I ask through the comms.
“All good, we’ve got someone with us called Trip, Rana told us about him, well, she told Neith, and we overheard. He’s fucking good at what he does, send the word out he’s one of ours,” River replies.
“On it, one second,” I reply as I punch someone in the face, securing his hands behind his back as I switch over to the other channel. “There’s a supernatural covered in tattoos, purple eyes, he’s one of ours.”
“Understood,” comes the reply of several voices.
I switch back, “Done.”
“Thanks, Van,” Nene replies, and I have to admit that my mind doesn’t settle until I hear her.
I should have just asked from the beginning if she was okay.
