Was that what she felt like? A weakling, barely formed in her magic? Doubt was a fist in her gut. But still, she edged around the table, her body silent, pain a distracting constant in her hands. The Bringer hadn’t struck. Did he truly know where she was?
“Don’t believe the lies, little one.” The thin line of his mouth curled upwards in a wry smile. Felix blinked. His mouth didn’t move to speak… Her gaze dropped to his throat. A haze of magic vibrated against his stretched, white flesh. There. There was her second target.
“We’re not dangerous creatures. We’re simply…misunderstood.” In a slow sweep, he offered up a clawed hand. Talons gleamed, smooth as ivory. Her need to touch them, to stroke her fingers along the sensual curve burned hot. “Come.” The twist to his mouth deepened and that ache was back in her flesh, almost robbing Felix of thought. His voice was sin itself. “Touch me.”
Something about his flesh, his scent, should warn her, but the sharp odours simply wrapped around her and their strangeness pricked. She slipped forward, clinging to her free thoughts. She was close, so close to the creature, the distance between them little more than inches beyond her stretched arm. And she would touch the Bringer. Her throat tightened, sweat and tremors gripping her flesh. It had to be done. It was the only way she’d have to take her targets.
White wings swept forward, framing the Bringer’s long form. Once the wings wrapped she was dead. Until then, she had a chance. Sort of. Perhaps.
She stepped to within arm’s reach. Warmth flowed over her, and with it came the Bringer’s body scent, sharp, almost acrid. It was enough. Enough to make her believe that stroking the back of her hand along the hard plane of his sternum—with the knife turned in, running against her forearm—wouldn’t kill her outright. Still masked, she lifted her other arm, letting it rest against her head. The synthetic burned against her temple, forcing a wince. She endured. Her arms had to be free.
Feoh’s chest lifted and swelled against her touch and another deep, delicious chuckle threaded under her skin. “You believe me then, little magus. That I—and my brethren—are harshly judged?”
Felix didn’t answer. Instead, she fought to breathe. Touch and the richness of his voice wound around her flesh, not even the bite of pain from the plastic she gripped in sweating palms carving into its effect. His long arms, with those sharp claws swept out and folded against her back, pinning her thigh to chest against his lean body.
“Isn’t that better?” There was a hot edge to the Bringer’s words and even through the thick material of her apprentice uniform, his skin wrought a burning bliss. “Oh, you’re more trained than I first believed.”
Her spine arced, her mouth caught in a silent scream as the crystals grown into her muscles and bone crunched and shattered, their magic surging into the laughing demon’s flesh.
“Amber, moonstone and agate.” Feoh’s guttural sigh eased the pull of his feeding. “Only seed crystals, but still…simply delectable. That I could keep you. Have you as my own private little storehouse of magic and flesh. Sipping from you. A rare delicacy to be enjoyed. To be savoured…”
He had to shut up. Fuck. Her thoughts spun at the dark beauty of the Bringer’s voice, of his choice of words and at the bliss of his touch. His body surrounded her. The fierce press of strong arms, lean torso, the hot push of his thigh between hers, and she ached, ached for the final surge of his wings.
“That’s it…” Heat caressed the words and on the edge of her vision, the great sheet of his wings shimmered, drawing in, drawing closer. Want and need and pain warred in her flesh as the demon fed. And the searing whispers twisted her thoughts, bleeding away her will to resist. “I will tease the magic from your bones, inch by inch.” He paused, stilled and her thoughts spun. “Take you. Devour you—”
“No!”
His promise slashed her arm forward, burying the knife deep in his throat.
The Bringer thrashed, his wings wild, his arms fixed tight around her. Feoh’s body burned over hers, ripped her magic and crystal in an insane, agonising rush. Felix screamed. Wrong. She’d got it wrong. Not his throat. His heart was first. His heart. The death of temptation.
But the single word devour had triggered her. The horror—and guilt—of it.
They crashed back into the table. Wood. Earthmade. Felix reached out to draw its strength into herself. Fighting the demon, straining against his fierce hold, her hands wrapped around her only weapon. Stupid. She was so stupid.
She hammered the blunt end of the tongs against the beast’s sternum. Skin blistered, choking dust coating her mouth and nose, burning against her eyes. The Bringer smashed her back against the cast-iron range, pain splintering against her spine, even as her magic flashed greedily over the metal.
The demon’s wings surged, a gust of air and dust choking her. No. Not yet. He would not have her yet. Iron fired through her veins and she stabbed hard, driving the plastic deep into the Bringer’s foul heart. An unearthly howl ripped out across the room, screaming over her thoughts, but still she drove down, dust spiralling out from the ragged hole in the beast’s chest.
“You have not won, little magus.”
His voice was raw and sour, scraping against her skin and she stared up into his darkened eyes. Something, something else stared back at her from the depths of his sockets and her heart clenched. What…?
The Bringer exploded, dust bursting against her flesh in a shock of hundreds of pricking pins. Felix cried out, her knees buckling and she staggered to stay on her feet. She failed and her knees hit the hard floor. Over. It was over. The Bringer was gone. And she, she was still alive.
“You’ve used all your resources against this one Harbinger of Death.”
A shadow loomed over her. Horns, wings, a tail and Felix cried out. She couldn’t help herself. Her hand clapped to her mouth. Him.
Zacharias Mael’s low, contemptuous voice ripped further panic through her shattered nerves. Him. Now. Not simply a berating voice in her head, but there, right in front of her. She scrambled back until her spine hit the hard leg of a wooden chair.
He lifted a dark eyebrow, his mouth a sneer. “So what are you going to do about the second breed Thammuz lurking on the other side of that door?”
Chapter Two
“What?” Felix tried to pull her thoughts in, fighting down the shock of his sudden appearance. She stumbled to her feet, her heart pounding. “A Thammuz?” She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. “I trapped a Thammuz, too? Fuck.” She stared up at the man who had fought Bringers for all of his adult life. Had made him what he now was. Something...corrupted. As much as she hated him, she would put that aside. They had to survive. “What…what should we do?”
“We would be able to do nothing. You are out of crystal and your flesh is weakened.” Dust-thickened light cut across his harsh face, carving it, and fear planted itself in Felix’s belly. The shadow of his horns twisted that anxiety. “You have become a liability.”
She knew that tone. She’d heard it almost every week for the past three years. Black spots danced before her eyes and her knees almost gave out. Again. A test. A fucking test. “Why would you do that?” She leant forward, bracing herself against the rickety back of a chair. She breathed, slow and sure, fighting the blackness that wanted to consume her. “What is wrong with you?”