My shadows slink around my forearms, begging to be unleashed against Sariah’s translucent light.
“You’re good at combat, I’ll give you that. Pretty boy trained you well, but you need to master your magic; wield it like the weapon it is. Not as an emotional response. Not like a buried instinct breaking free. You have to command them with intention and precision.”
“Pretty boy?” I cling to Blaise’s mention, hoping to deter her from cornering me into unleashing my shadows upon her. I don’t want to hurt her. “What happened between you two while we were away? You seem… fulfilled.”
Sariah explodes in a full-on laugh, sharp and crystalline like glass bells clinking against each other in the wind.
“You know what?” She throws her blade away, letting the tips of her fingers turn incandescent blue. “I will tell you all about it if you stop being afraid and attack me with your shadows.”
“Sunshine, no,” I sigh. “I don’t want to.”
“Not even to hear all about what else pretty boy can do with that clever mouth of his besides throwing smart-ass remarks?” She wiggles her eyebrows in exaggerated movements, and for a second there, it almost feels like we’re back in Annerough, preparing for a performance and gossiping about our latest conquests.
“I have imagination; I can fill in the gaps on my own,” I answer with a half-laugh.
“Fine. Be on the receiving end, then.”
I don’t get the time to ponder what she means, as streams of blinding light erupt from her hands, swallowing the room at a dizzying speed. I raise my hands instinctively to cover my face, my shadows breaking free and a protective barrier of darkness envelopes me.
“That’s it, Aimee. Now push. Don’t let my power advance on you.”
Sweat trickles down my temples as I focus on the cracks her light is trying to form in my shield. Images flash before my eyes: of my sister snapping Chip’s neck, of her minions belittling me, and her vicious laugh every time they did. I see Jonathan pretending to take a liking to the girl with no powers, no friends. My skin crawls at the memory of his vile hands on me.
With a roar that tears open my throat, I release the tendrils of darkness like a quiver of hissing snakes that swallow her light, throwing her violently against the far wall.
Fuck.
She jumps back to her feet with a wicked grin, shaking her limbs loose.
“That’s more like it. Do it again.”
“You’re mad,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
“Morweena is even more,” she replies in a sing-song voice. “Again, Aimee.”
I summon my shadows once more, liking the taste of violence permeating the air just a little too much. She wants chaos? Who am I to deny her?
We clash over and over again; my movements sharper and more in control each time. By our tenth try, a dent has formed in the wall in the shape of her lean body.
The creak of the wooden double doors halts our movement; shadows and streaks of light dissolve into thin air.
Blaise takes two steps inside, whistling a carefree tune, before his eyes widen, taking in our disheveled states.
“Don’t tell me I missed a sexy catfight between the two of you?” His tone is light and airy, but his jaw ticks at the bruises forming on Sariah’s pale skin.
“She asked for it. Repeatedly.”
“I’m sure she did,” he answers, nonplussed. “She’s a savage little pixie, as I’ve come to discover myself.”
“Is there any particular reason for your unexpected visit, pretty boy, or are you just that obsessed with me?” Sariah drawls, her half-smile challenging.
“You know damn well that I am,” Blaise answers in a tone that lacks his usual impish bite. “But I came to tell you that your brother and the rest of the Dark Umbras have arrived.”
“Soren,” Sariah breathes, before turning on her heel and running off through the open doors.
Killian’s study is currently a tad crowded. Killian sits at his desk, his watchful gaze trained on the fresh addition to our circle of unlikely heroes.
The tall male has an arm wrapped protectively around Sariah’s waist; his defined muscles bulging through the tight cut of his forest green tunic. His fair hair, almost white at the tips, and pale complexion give him a ghastly appearance, but the intense azure eyes and the Cupid’s bow shape of his lips, which he shares with his sister, make him less frightening—more strikingly handsome. He’s currently locked in a silent battle of wills with Blaise, as if measuring every little detail of our friend and finding the results lacking.
