Page 126 of Of Shadows and Blood

“She couldn’t have gone far! FIND HER!” Someone orders from inside the room no more than ten yards from my frozen body. Willing even my breath to cease, and praying my heart to stop beating, I freeze in place.

I send a silent prayer to Senna, my patron, that I go undiscovered.

From choosing not to risk even a breath, the minutes tick by and I have to listen to the footsteps running through the manor. How long will they wait in my room? With only the one window, surely they have began tracking other avenues.

All would have been well, and I nearly turned back to the tunnel which promised safety had I not seen the faint sliver, nearly invisible to the naked, mortal, eye. The warm, orange-hued light from the crack in the door leading down here.

How could I have been so stupid to not latch the door behind me?

The room silences and I decide to leave the spot. Nothing good will come from sitting here. The air changes and every nerve in me lights up. My body jumps as Killian swings the door open, malice across his face.

And now, I must run.

I sprint down the tunnel, barreling fast through the pathway that turns into solid stone. Gravel has made its way into my slippers and I wince at the pain. I’d have thrown them off and opted for bare feet had I not realized the uncleanliness of the path which I have taken. The stones, untouched by the elements of Krue’s wet weather, and the smell…

I push away the realization that the left tunnel must lead me to my fate. Whatever it may be. Killian’s boots sound down the tunnel and I wonder why he hasn’t used his power to apparate in front of me.

He could end it right now and no one would know.

Oh, Gods. Where is Sawyer?

The tunnel veers left and down, as if in a spiral and I drive my knees forward, my skirts flapping between my thighs, nearly bringing me down.

“Elivienne, let’s not play,” Killian purrs behind me. “You should hear the cause out first before acting in haste.”

The echoes of his voice propel me further down into the depths of whatever lies beneath Orvynn. I leap forward, my cess magic sparking under my feet to take me yards ahead. The foreign feeling, though fleeting, gives me hope. I silently thank Avonde and the cess at Demis before skidding to a stop at the edge of a chasm.

That is the only way to describe this. The stone ends abruptly and I nearly slide off the edge into the indescribable darkness between the pathways. Two wooden posts on each end of the chasm indicate a once-existing bridge but now a fatal distance remains. With my vampyr sight, I try to quickly calculate the sheer strength, and luck, it would take to clear the jump. My head darts around, trying to find something, anything.

“I always wondered what it would be like,” Killian growls behind my ear, nearly knocking me over the edge. Throwing myself to the side with no other choice to make, I meet the stone floor and quickly stand up. “I wondered what it would be like to chase you again. To have this opportunity to make it count again. He will not let me live if I fail again.” My core lights on fire from the effort to stay upright with so much nothingness behind me.

I breathe a haggard breath and meet his eyes. Empty.

“You were behind the carriage. My curse.” I spit on Killian’s face. He flinches, raising a hand to wipe his check clean. When his eyes meet mine again, his ire has turned into fury. He grabs my arms with such a force I know bruises are forming.

Killian leans down, his eyes level with mine and no more than an inch of space between us. “You have had many choices to make, Elivienne. And I will call you as such because the you that I told him to create, with my spell, never existed. No, she would not fight her destiny.”

I can’t even think about his words because he pulls us back three steps from the chasm edge, moving one hand into my hair, yanking me to the ground with a devastating throw. I slam into the raw stone wall, realizing how unhewn the space is compared to the rest of the manor. As if this was carved during a time of early civilization.

I choose not to scramble back, not to cower – I meet his gaze. “What do you plan to do now, Killian? Throw me off the cliff edge? Kill me? Coward,” I bite, feeling anger dance all over my skin like sparks of a fire.

“What do I plan to do? This has advanced too quickly for his plans but –” he tilts his head to the side, as if assessing the situation – “contingencies do come up.”

“His?” I try to channel my magic, feeling its warmth in my palms. Those sparks begging to be willed into something useful, but I can’t. Standing, I shake the exhaustion plaguing my muscles. The small knife warms against my chest, as if reminding me it exists.

“This is so much bigger than you and I,” Killian bites as he lunges for me and every instinct awakens to fight. Making a grab for the knife, I swipe up, grazing his face. We switch places, my back now to the cliff edge, something I note. Killian lifts his hand to his face, making the same motion when he wiped my spit from his cheek, only this time it now comes up bloody. He whips his head to me and I realize the damage. A deep gash cuts from his chin diagonally over his cheekbone, narrowly missing the outer corner of his eye.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he growls as he unsheathes his short sword. “He would have my head if I took yours.”

“Is the blade a contingency?” I chide, widening my stance. I may have just a small blade but I will go down fighting because if I let him take me from here, to a second location, I will be lost forever.

He lunges with immortal grace, jabbing the sword at my face and I duck nearly quickly enough to miss it, my feet slipping on the gravel embedded in the soles of my slippers. I quickly lurch forward and slice across his leg, blood and flesh squelching.

Killian brings his weapon down and I jump to the side, knocking my head into the stone jutting nearly crumpling at the intense shock of pain. I weigh the metal in my left hand, my other holding me up against the wall. He swings again and I barely move back enough before the sword collides with the stone, sparks flying. It wasn’t far enough and the blade’s edge narrowly slices the space between my neck and shoulder.

Where is Sawyer?

I scream, the pain yanking me away from my oppressor, but I remember I must continue to fight. Grinding my teeth together, I slam my head forward meeting its mark. Killian bellows and falls backwards and I fight forward, slicing my blade every which way I can manage, my head feeling heavier and heavier with each bit of movement.