Page 125 of Anywhere

I released my hold on the power with a groan.

Rhys looked over, shocked, as our eyes met when I floated past where he stood. I could feel the eyes of all, friends and foes, turning in my direction as my hovering body drew their attention.

The tall gate might say McGregor, but this was my home now. The clamour of battle was dulled by the whooshing of magic, and it swirled like smoke around my hands and feet. Knives, swords, and arrows flew in my direction, but they all disintegrated into dust before they reached my skin. Holding my palms up, I stared at those who stormed my home and knew their souls would be mine.

“Rise, my shadows. Rise and feast on what I offer,” I said.

The ground rumbled like an earthquake was coming, and everyone stumbled, trying to remain upright. Spectral hands, as dark as only those from the demon fade could be, rose from the dirt. The first shrill scream that reached my ears sounded like music. More screaming rose into the night sky as those ghastly, smoky hands wrapped around the legs of those who had invaded my home and tried to kill us. Claws tore at clothing and skin as the intruders tried to run, tried to get away from the death coming for them.

But it was inevitable.

I could feel their deaths on my fingertips and taste the destruction of their souls in my mouth.

I wanted them to suffer. Wanted them to know who they crossed before they died. Wanted those who sent them to understand what it meant to make an enemy of Rook Adair. I bowed down to no one. I took what I wanted. And right now, what I wanted was their fear.

The ground rumbled. The sky darkened. Thick shadows pulled away from the trees and rocks to join in the battle. Wild cries of pain and tearing flesh filled my ears. Blood splattered my face as the shadows clawed relentlessly at my enemies. Bones snapped, and bodies were torn apart, piece by piece.

Pleas and begging reached me but fell on deaf ears. Their cries of pain and suffering only added to the thrill of the kill. They started this, but I intended to finish it.

“Take them,” I yelled. “Take them all. I give them all to you.”

The shadows cut off those who almost reached the gate, and their terror-filled cries echoed off the stone walls of the immense castle. Guards backed away, and I could feel their fear that they were next.

It was tempting. Oh, so tempting.

I wanted more.

I wanted all the souls that I could take.

A hand touched my hand, and the warm buzzing that accompanied Rhys’s touch travelled up my arm. The simple touch had me closing my eyes to take a steadying breath. Another hand touched my other hand, and Elewyen’s presence, soft warmth, and calm kindness filled me. Their essence pushed down the rage fuelling me until it retreated into the depths of my soul, where it lingered on a low simmer.

As the power dissipated, the shadows evaporated and disappeared to become one with the world around us. Ever watching and waiting to be called. Drifting down to the ground, I looked at Rhys and then at Elewyen before I collapsed to my knees in the moist grass.

Lifting my shaking hand, I stared at it and blinked as I registered that it was soaked bright red. Red with the blood of my enemies. Red with the death of dozens.

What have I done? I wondered as my eyes fluttered closed and darkness consumed me.

Elewyen

“I’z never seen anythin’ like dat before,” I said to Rhys. His cousin Ronan was helping carry Rook into the castle.

“Aye, dat was somethin’ beyond me knowledge,” Rhys answered.

I followed as they took Rook up the stairs to our wing.

“Dat be some seriously fierce shite,” Ronan chimed in when we reached the top floor.

Ronan had the same black hair and grey eyes as Rhys, but his were more like the colour of a small grey mouse. Although he was only two years younger than Rhys, he seemed very chiseler. It was the feeling I got from his energy.

What happened with Rook may have seemed fierce—which I assumed meant great—but it felt dangerous. That was the darkest of dark magic, and a strange lingering pull tempted us from the shadows. It was as if the dark fade was whispering and calling to Rook as he channeled the deaths. I could hear their harsh, enticing words, like claws lightly scraping along my skin, making me shiver.

I’d never seen such carnage, except for the villages, but those people were burned. These were ripped to shreds by hands, not of the living or that of the dead. They were from the inky space that lingered in between worlds. The space that no one ever wanted to end up and filled us all minds with terror. Chills raced through my body, and the hair on my neck stood in warning when his power had rose like a creature from the depths of the fade.

“Dat no be fierce,” Rhys said, echoing my thoughts as they laid Rook on the large bed. “Tanks, Ronan, but me got it from ‘ere,” Rhys stripped off his bloodied shirt.

“Whaddya want me ta do wit all da…parts?” Ronan asked from the door.

“I’m no’ sure. I guess git da guards ta try an’ wash da blood off da grass and burn what be left of da bodies. We no need anyone ta see dat, and da stench of da day’s heat will ‘ave us all wantin’ ta move.”