Page 92 of Corrupt Shadows
I squirm in Lorcan’s arms as he steps out of a shadow in the kitchen. He slides me down his body, a sheath strung through his belt jabbing into my thigh, and sets me to my feet.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
His brows narrow, as if he couldn’t possibly understand why I am upset.
“You could have shadow-walked with me this whole time?”
Lorcan licks his lip, then bites it. “You needed to be taught a lesson,” he says with a shrug. Why the would he need a dagger? Isn’t his magic enough?
“I can’t fucking believe you.”
He sighs and runs his hands through his thick, dark hair. The strands shimmer from blue to black like a raven’s feather as the silver chandelier hanging above the kitchen island shines down.
The kitchen is breathtaking, but I am so overwhelmed with frustration that I barely absorb its attractions.
Anger clouds Lorcan’s features. “After everything we’ve shared,” he says, prowling toward me. “You’re pissed that you had to walk a few miles?”
“That’s not the fucking point, demon.”
“Then what is?” he spits.
“You lied to me.”
He scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “I simply omitted the fact that I could shadow-walk with you in tow. That is not a lie.”
“Same difference!” I shriek, throwing up my hands.
Chills cover my skin, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as an eerie, dark laughter echoes around us. “A lover’s quarrel already, brother?” Ezra asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Get out.” Lorcan seems to grow in size, taking up more space in front of me. My heart palpitates, and a cold sweat breaks out on my arms and neck.
“Evie, run.” Lorcan growls into my mind.
“No. I’m not leaving you with him.”
Ezra’s eyes dart back and forth between Lorcan and me. “Are we having a conversation without including the rest of the class?” he asks, the timbre of his voice like the bass track to a heavy-metal song.
Lorcan hisses as his claws shoot from his clenched fists, then pierce through the back of his hands.
Ezra laughs, shaking his head. “You never were very good with control.”
“That’s ironic coming from you, Wrath,” Lorcan spits. My tank top scrunches below my breasts as Lorcan’s shadow picks me up and tosses me onto the kitchen island behind him. My elbow connects with the wood knife block as I stop myself from sliding off the other end of the granite counter.
My eyes widen when my demon launches at his brother. They tumble to the stone floor. Lorcan slashes across Ezra’s chest with his claws, and blood oozes through the torn material of his heather-gray hoodie. He wraps his legs around Lorcan’s neck and squeezes his head between his massive quads. He grunts, then flexes the muscles in his legs, every dip and swell of his muscles showing through his slacks. Lorcan sinks his claws into his brother’s knees all the way to his knuckles. Ezra howls but doesn’t release him.
My hands fly to my mouth as Lorcan grips Ezra’s man bun with a shadow and yanks at the black strands. Ezra’s clawed fingers fly to his head, and his thighs loosen just enough for Lorcan to roll out of his hold. Ezra whips a shadow around his brother’s ankle and pulls his foot out from underneath him. Fuck!
“Don’t use your shadows against me, Lorcan. Some of us have had centuries of training, while others rotted in a cage.”
I take a step farther away from the demons as Lorcan’s frame trembles violently, prone on the floor before Ezra. He balls his hands into fists and releases them several times. The hairs on my arms rise as a quiet, devastating whimper slips past my demon’s lips before he covers it with a snarl so piercing, my ear drums ring.
Lorcan throws his body forward, the momentum propelling him to his feet. I’ve never seen someone move like that. I grab a cast-iron pan from the sink but hiss as the weight of it twists my wrist the wrong way. I feel better with the potential weapon in my hand. It’s a decent backup, in case my magic isn’t enough on its own.
The brothers circle each other, but Lorcan counters his brother’s moves, keeping him away from me at all costs. Ezra’s eyes dart toward me, then at the pan in my grasp, and the corners of his lips turn upward in a sinister smile. He shakes his head as if disappointed.
“Fucking asshole!” I scream, launching the heavy iron skillet at his head. My wrist twinges when my fingers release the cast iron, and I miss the mark, clipping him on the shoulder.
Lorcan uses the distraction to crash into him, but Ezra’s shoes just slide across the stone. Ezra lashes a shadow toward me like a whip, then wraps it around my waist and drags me off the island.