Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(35)
I had never seen that expression as he stared back at me, his gaze running over my face, and he stated in a cold, dead tone, “You can do this.”
“Dammit, Caro!” Brann’s shout echoed through the air.
My chest heaving, I stared at Queen Ruckler a moment and mouthed, “Keep him back.”
“Caro, turn around!” Mr Damon bellowed below me.
I instantly turned at the urgency in his tone, only to kneel on the table I stood on. I threw my hands out, swords still in my grip, as a portion of the Shadows flew up to hit the glass windows above, while another section hit the paneled glass doors with such force and evil that exuberant amounts of glass shattered like bullets into the room. The three of us simultaneously threw pulse waves in front of us, protecting ourselves from the flying debris…and blasting some of the Shadows back. The Shadows’ piercing howls of pain and rage as their corporal pitch-black frames blew farther back into the night were able to be heard by anyone, Com or Mys, spirit Elemental or Mage.
The icy wind whipped through the room as they began pouring in. The expanse was still visible by the lights above but suddenly dimmed by the very essences of the Shadows.
Life.
Experience.
Determination.
Any one of those had me lifting as glass shattered to the floor, and my boots were already racing down the long table toward the Shadows. I glowed a brilliant white, my swords swinging as I rotated my wrists.
Mrs Damon shouted, “No, Caro! Stay back with us!”
I ignored it all, the fear gone and the killing bitch coming to the fore as those around me were endangered. I ran harder and leapt into the air, hooking my arm around a Shadow’s. The feeling of pure evil bounced right off me as I used the force of my momentum to wrap my legs around its waist when it started to twist in midair, screaming to get me off its back. I quickly chopped its head off, its black, tar-like blood splattering over me, visible to all. As I started to fall back to the ground, the dead Shadow’s body parts fell, too. At the last second before impact, I hooked my legs around another, their numbers like a f*cking swarm of bees in the air. Hanging upside down, and before it could touch me, I sliced its head off.
And so it went.
I hovered in the air, riding the Shadows and getting tossed and turned as the cries of the wicked and pure evil screamed at me as I moved with them. I repeatedly cut off their black heads or jabbed them straight through the heart, more of their black tar-like blood pouring over me. Mrs Damon and Mr Damon fought below, appearing much the same from what I could catch in glimpses through the horde in the air.
Until one f*cker grabbed me around the waist—a smarter Shadow.
It flew me straight toward the golden protection none of the Shadows could seem to pass. I shouted in agony as my back slammed into the protective wall, my swords dropping from my hands. I hung in midair, and baring my teeth at the Shadow’s face in front of me, I decked it straight in the side of its head with my diamond knuckles. The damn thing screamed, its mouth opened as wide as my head, and we started falling to the ground.
A wave of air caught me from underneath, the Shadow slipping through to fall to the ground. Breathless, I sucked in oxygen as I lay on a peaceful cushion of gentle air and picked up my blood covered head…to stare into dark glowing eyes on the other side of the protective wall. Elder Jacobs.
Panting over the screams of the evil, I muttered, “Thanks.”
His eyebrows lifted, and he stated dryly, “By all the evidence, I’m thinking it should be us thanking you.”
“Right.” I sucked in air. “I should probably get back to it.”
Brann was suddenly standing in front of Elder Jacobs, brushing out of Elder Merrick’s hold. His eyes were glowing fiercely, an expression I had never seen on his face before; he was a honed, deadly powerful being staring me straight in the face. He surprised me by tilting his head and growling, “One of those f*ckers stole your sword.”
“What?” I shouted, my head swinging down past the air cushion. I saw only one of my swords on the ground. “Goddammit! That was f*cking mine!” I rolled, falling from the edge of the air cushion to the floor and grabbing up my only sword. I finished off the f*cking Shadow still lying on his back wailing from the hit to his head, black blood splattering, and then I peered around to the rest of the room, trying to find the thieving Shadow. I shouted, “That was mine, you f*cking prick.”
Brann cleared his throat. I glanced back at him, furious I had been stolen from. He pointed to the right, the complete opposite direction to where I had been looking. “Over there, Felon.”
Glancing in that direction, I muttered quietly, “Dammit, don’t be so obvious next time when I’m wrong. You’re ruining my cool factor.”
His wolf growled at me. “Just go get your shit back since I know you don’t like to share.”
“Fucking right,” I murmured as I raised my sword and slashed down a Shadow aiming right for Brann, its blood splattering all over the protective wall in front of him. “God, I knew they’d like you, Wolf Man. You’re just as twisted as me. You need to stay behind the barrier.” As he stared at the blood, I raced after my sword. There was a damn Shadow using it to hack at a deer head mounted on the wall. I raised my hand and sent a pulse wave at it. “That is mine, you stupid f*cking shit!”
Bone-tired, wavering on my feet and sporting black blood all over my body, I blinked at Mr Damon, both of my swords back in my hands. “I hate this part.”