Page 60 of Stealing Embers
Steel has arrived.
Chapter Seventeen
Ronove was frightening before, but Steel’s threatening growl releases his inner monster. The Forsaken in front of me transforms into a true creature of darkness. His fangs descend even farther, almost touching the bottom of his chin. His fingers curl around my shoulder, punching sharpened claws into my flesh again, releasing new rivers of blood.
I swallow the pain-filled scream that bubbles in my throat and dig deep for my scrappy skills.
Using my free and uninjured arm, I throat-punch Ronove.
With a piercing howl, the monster uses the claws still embedded in my flesh to toss me away from him—straight into a brick wall.
My back cracks against the hard surface, and I slide into a crumpled heap.
I’m keenly aware of my heart thudding twice before I collect my wits. Scrambling to my hands and knees, Steel’s angry roar and the Forsakens’ furious shrieks ricochet off the narrow alley walls.
Steel plows into Ronove and they roll in a flurry of paws, claws, and snapping jaws.
Aamon joins the fight, making it two against one.
“That one is strong,” yells the female. “Don’t kill him. We can use him too.”
Wait, what?
As far as I know, the Forsaken only have two uses for the Nephilim: wear them like a skin suit, or eat them.
I’m not letting Steel—or myself—be used for either of those purposes.
Jamming my flight instinct deep down into a sealed box, I push to my feet, ready to even the numbers. I’m about to rush into the middle of the battle when the female Forsaken jumps in front of me.
“Oh no. You won’t be going anywhere except with us. Time for a little lights-out for you.” Her lips peel back in a grotesque smile that reminds me of a re-animated corpse.
I run at her only to find myself flat on the ground with only a vague idea of how I got there.
“That was rather pathetic. Why don’t you just stay down while the grown-ups work things out?”
She examines her curved claws as if she’s checking her nails for chipped paint. She doesn’t even spare me a glance with her soulless eyes.
Behind her, Steel continues his assault on Ronove and Aamon.
His pelt is splattered with his own red blood as well as the Forsakens’ black ichor. With a burst of speed, Ronove climbs on Steel’s back and bites his muscled shoulder.
Three-inch incisors sink into Steel’s hide just as he’s shaking Aamon’s body back and forth by the forearm. Raising his giant lion head, he roars; Aamon’s body drops, then flops around on the ground like a dying fish.
The female who so easily put me down spares a glance over her shoulder.
She frowns, her twisted features pulling at her gaunt face as she watches Steel swipe a paw at the creature on his back, flinging Ronove against the brick wall. Steel then catches Aamon by the leg as he’s crawling away. Yanking him back, his giant paw swings and hits Aamon across the face, shredding the skin and tearing out half his throat.
A gurgled shriek wheezes out of the injured Forsaken before Steel lowers a claw toward his head, separating it from his body with one powerful stroke.
Impressive.
The female screams in outrage. I press my hands over my ears as the piercing sound hammers nails into my eardrums. The shockwaves pound in my head and vibrate the air as both remaining Forsaken dive at Steel.
Sitting stunned on the icy ground, I’m all but forgotten.
The battle in front of me is a jumble of sounds, blurred limbs, and bloody claws. The Forsaken are even more savage than Steel in his animal form. The earsplitting screeches of anger from the unholy creatures mix with Steel’s mighty roars, distorting the spectrum world around the group as if they are fighting in a bowl of murky water.
Steel’s furious bellows fill the alley before he’s suddenly cut off.