Page 94 of The Awakening of Essensia

Vaelira turned and swung again. The girl ducked and darted in close, dragging a single nail across Vaelira’s cheek. The pain hardly registered. The girl giggled again. “Poor little Lira doesn’t know how to play.”

Vaelira’s limbs locked for a breath, then rage exploded in her chest, scalding, blinding. Uncontrollable.

She embraced it.

A flame ignited in her palm, and her sword rattled to the stone. Someone shouted, a warning maybe. She didn’t listen. Flames devoured her hand, racing up her arm. Her knees shook. She’d pulled too much too fast and her vision tunnelled. Someone whispered a prayer.

The demon’s grin widened and Vaelira hurled her fire, a scream tearing painfully from her throat.

Power slung itself from her arm, slicing the air like a whip and striking the demon around the stomach, slamming her against the wall. The flames pinned the demon there, Vaelira holding them in place by sheer will alone. She stalked closer, snarling and spitting at the demon, the fury spiking her blood, the flames flaring with it.

The girl’s eyes went wide, all humour vanishing from her innocent face, and Vaelira almost let go, but the virtuous expression twisted and the demon’s laughter boomed through the alley, the sound perverse coming from such a small child.

A hushed voice spoke, unearthly cruelty twisted into each word. “Binder’s blood will break the lock...” A low, rasping chuckle. “Unbind the chains.” The words slithered into her ears, quiet enough that she almost doubted she’d heard them. The moonstone seared her hip, as if screaming for her to run.

The ribbon at the end of the girl's golden braid caught fire, curling at its ends then withering into ash. Her hair followed, sizzling and smoking before catching, a blaze around her pale face, illuminating every ridge of black veins that pulsed beneath her skin. Still, the demon grinned, even as skin began to bubble and blister.

Vaelira’s vision blurred, the sharp scent of singed hair and scorched flesh filling her nose.

She swayed.

Tilted.

Shrill crows of manic laughter descended with her into black.

Vaelira awoke to the sharp scent of citrus and the soft glow of candlelight. She turned slightly, seeing a hazy glass of water on the bedside table. Above it, a hand hovered, squeezing half a lemon, the pale drops falling into the glass. They hit the surface with tiny splashes, spiralling down, curling like threads of light through the water.

She blinked. Willem stood over her, his black hair held back from his face with a leather strap. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and sat in an armchair beside the bed, picking up one of his knives and rubbing it clean with a thick cloth. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better,” she rasped. She pushed herself upright, squeezing her eyes shut against the throb in her temples. She reached for the glass. The water was icy and the lemon cut through the fog. “Where am I?”

“My room. Elijah and I brought you back while Erryn and Axel cleaned up. They should be back any minute.”

Vaelira made to rise, but Willem stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Give it a minute.”

She nodded, settling back into the soft pillows. “You saw?” she said.

“I saw.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“We all have secrets, Vaelira.”

She closed her eyes. At least he didn’t hate her.

“At first,” he said carefully, “I saw myself in that girl. A child taken from New Town and turned to whatever dark deeds those bastards wanted her for. But the dress, the hair...”

Vaelira swallowed painful. “I thought the same thing. She was noble.”

“Still innocent though,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

A door slammed downstairs, followed by heavy footsteps and raised voices. Vaelira groaned, swinging her legs off the bed. She stood and waited for the world to steady before following Willem into the dimly lit hall, stopping on the landing as Erryn’s voice rose from downstairs.

“You should have told us!”

“What difference would it have made?” Elijah.

“She could be the one summoning them!”