Page 8 of Of Flame and Fury

I whip around. The wall is gone.

And so is Bren.

Chapter Three

I inch backward, my motions dimming the lights further until they vanish completely. My right arm shoots up, lighting like a torch and sparing me from the blackness encasing me.

The sound of splintering wood has me lowering my arm. I jump when thin rivers of blood trickle toward my feet.

Blood is never a good sign. It leads from bad to deadly every damn time. Most would run at the sight. Me being me, and knowing there’s no other recourse, I follow the tiny rivers.

I move carefully, not wanting the thickening fluid to touch me. Dark magic is particularly nasty and usually requires a sacrifice. This blood signifies more than death; it’s a trigger to whatever will fire next.

My light strobes in and out, in tune with my accelerating heart rate, and against the tiny rivers that expand into a widening pool. The horrible silence resumes, adding an extra dose of eerie.

Don’t be afraid, I tell myself.It’s quiet. That’s all.

I don’t manage to convince myself. Not when the moaning resumes with the next step I take. It starts out low, almost imperceptible, swelling in volume until it’s loud enough to muffle my rattling teeth.

The temperature drops absurdly low. The chill of death is here, expanding quickly, mingling with spirits and dark magic, and determined to drag me to hell.

Son of a bitch.

I reach another wall, another dead end. I release a breath, cursing when more moans join the first, these much higher pitched and much, much closer.

Frozen fingers drag down my spine. I turn around, ready to blast whatever is touching me only to stop dead. The streaks of blood are moving, swirling in freakish directions to form letters and words.

N-Y-T-E-S…

My light shakes from my violent trembles.

A-R-E…

The letters darken to black, smearing the wooden floors.

C-O-M-I-N-G

I jolt when something crashes on the level above. I don’t wait for more of this twisted spelling bee. I take off in a sprint, shaking my right hand. “Get us to Celia,” I tell Sparky. “Get us there now.”

I just miss crashing into a wall that materializes in front of me. I shake my arm harder. I don’t typically order Sparky around. It’s not something Icando. As connected as we are, she’s practically a separate entity with her own set of rules I’ve yet to figure out.

“Come on, girl,” I insist. “Celia needs us.”

More by instinct than anything Sparky does, I spin, startling when a new set of words form along the wall.

NYTES

HAVE

COME

Sparky radiates to life, the brilliant light she emits drying and cracking the blood. With a jerk, she leads me left. I follow, running as fast as I can.

The dimness fades slowly, as do the moans. Sweat beads my brow.

“Gemini!” I scream. “Celia is in trouble.”

My mate bond with Gemini frequently helps me out of the messes I face-plant into. Except, never has Gemini felt so blatantly absent. I try again, calling to the one wolf who couldn’t live without my sister.