“Do you smell that?” he said.
The Shadow Alexei straightened, head back to sniff the air. This man had once been Alekhin’s second. They were no longer of the same pack; Gadreel could sense that much. But respect still lingered between them. These two would lay down their lives for each other.
Alexei would die first, then. Gadreel could not afford to have anyone protecting the cursed Shadow, and after all, it was only a matter of finishing the job he and Azazel had started.
Azazel, the traitor. He had to suppress a hiss at the thought.
“What is it?” His Dimi spoke for the first time, her voice hoarse as if from screaming.
“A threat,” Alekhin snarled. And then, louder, “Show yourselves, cowards.”
Now, then.
Sunlight slanted through the low-hanging branches of the forest’s canopy as Gadreel stepped forward. His foot crushed the fallen needles at the base of one of the fir trees, and all three Shadows spun toward the sound. Alexei growled at him, shifting seamlessly into the form of his black dog. The Shadow could no longer speak, but he didn’t have to. The look in his eyes was statement enough. He owed Gadreel a debt of violence, that look said, and he had every intention of paying it.
Gadreel ignored him. “Well met, Little Firebird,” he said, as if they stood alone.
She glared at him and spoke not a word.
Did the nickname hold particular offense for her? He found it descriptive; she was as elusive and lovely as the Firebird in the ancient myths, the one the king’s sons had quested throughout the realm to find, risking their lives in the process.
“I mean you no harm.” He lifted his empty palms. “I wish only for you to hear me out.”
“I do not parlay with demons.” She spoke from behind Alekhin, who had moved to stand between her and Gadreel. He was still in human form, but the other two Shadows had both Changed. They flanked Alekhin, closing ranks in front of their Dimis, as if that would do them any good. The rowans that overhung the edge of the pool, rooted in the rocky sand, began to smoke. A glance from the silent Dimi and the wind gusted, coaxing the smoke into fire.
Gadreel sighed. “I will speak, then. You see the devastation that the Darkness is already wreaking on the land. We must stop it. On that, surely, we agree.”
Katerina Ivanova merely stared at him. In the woods beyond, a lone wolf howled.
“I loosed it. I can contain it once more. Your Light is the counterbalance I need.” Why did he feel as if he were begging? He, who had commanded legions of demons and ruled the majority of the Underworld’s territory since he had tumbled from grace thousands of years before?
It was unsupportable.
“I will give you nothing.” Her words came flat, without give.
Her Shadow was backing her up now, toward the water, a blessed blade in one hand. The other was clenched into a fist, and between his fingers, ink-black tendrils writhed. What did he intend to do with it? Gadreel was a creature of Darkness. The Shadow could not wield it against him. And yet here Alekhin stood, blade in one hand and Darkness in the other, muscles coiled as if to strike. On either side of him, the black dogs crouched, prepared to spring.
A treachery of ravens settled atop the firs abutting the stretch of gritty sand that led to the water. Their wings fluttered, and one of them let out a harsh, shrill cry. Dimi Ivanova’s gaze flicked over her Shadow’s shoulder, fixing on the ravens. Deep in the trees, the wolf howled again, this time accompanied by its mate, and her eyes narrowed, as if in thought. She lifted a hand toward the rowan atop the boulder and twisted her wrist. With a crack, a single branch wrenched free, plummeting into the water far below.
What was she doing? Whatever it was, Gadreel could afford to wait no longer.
The branch sank beneath the surface and the pool began to ripple, as if something stirred in its depths. Gadreel crooked his fingers, summoning his minions. If Dimi Ivanova would not listen to reason, he would take her by force. He took a step closer, intent on his prey.
The cursed Shadow did not retreat. Instead, he smiled at Gadreel, a humorless show of his gleaming, razor-sharp canines. “Come, then, Dark Angel of War, erstwhile ruler of the Fallen Realms.” He lifted the hand that held the Darkness and spread his fingers. Inky tendrils churned above his palm. “I would love nothing more.”
The voice belonged to the Shadow, and yet it did not. It was the voice of legions of doomed souls, the voice of those who drowned within the Void. The voice of the Darkness itself. Gadreel shuddered at the sound, and the Shadow gave a mirthless chuckle.
“We are but three Shadows and three Dimis,” he said. “You have slain hundreds of our kind. Surely you do not fear us.”
The Shadow was goading him. Gadreel knew that, and yet he could not resist. It was what he wanted, after all; to take the creature’s life. He beckoned, and his minions surged forward, blades held high, giving a ululating battle cry carried on the rising wind.
He expected his Firebird to plunge into the pool, striking out for the other side. Everyone knew demons could not cross running water, and though this pool was still and thus posed no barrier to his ilk, it was her best route of escape. Indeed, the horses, with no one to hold them back, had fled, submerging up to their necks, their hooves kicking up clear spray as they made their way to the other side. Battle-trained or no, this was not company they cared to keep.
But Katerina Ivanova did not flee. Instead, as the black dogs leapt at his demons, tearing at them as his soldiers slashed and parried, she stepped from behind her Shadow, ignoring his attempts to shield her, and tilted her head to the sky. “Guardians of the forest!” Her voice rang out above the demons’ cries. “I petition you for aid.”
The corrupted Shadow’s dark brows lowered. “What are you doing?” he demanded, driving a blade into one of Gadreel’s soldiers who’d dared to get within a foot of Dimi Ivanova. But not using his command over the Darkness as a weapon. Not yet.
“What I have to.” She raised her hands to the sky, the sunlight transforming her tangled hair into a fiery halo. “Lords of the forest. Mistress of the waters. If you deem us worthy, show yourselves as you truly are, not as gray wolf, black raven, or fir-tree,” she cried. “In our time of need, I bid you, show yourselves to me.”
