On a Razor's Edge (Darkness #3)(12)

The monster bent to throw a huge, leafed fist toward Stefan. He danced out of the way, smooth and graceful, perfectly balanced. The bark monster howled in rage, throwing another fist, slamming it into the ground where Dominicous had been a moment before.

Stefan rushed between the stomping feet, aiming for his prey. He slashed at the Achilles heel, then cut through half a leg. Dominicous was at the other leg, following Stefan’s example. The next stomp had the monster stumbling, but not falling. The root foot broke off, the beast now using a stumped foot.

“It is an actual tree,” Stefan shouted, dodging the leafed fist. He slashed at the wrist, chopping some off before rolling out from beneath the tree’s next punch, and then dodging a stomp.

Dominicous jumped, tucking his feet and doing a cool flip. Unfortunately, he landed in the path of an already attacking tree-palm and got knocked to the side. He rolled against the forest floor, kicking up dirt and dust, then hopped to his feet and ran back into the fray, his muscles bunching and releasing.

“I would prefer an axe instead of a sword, I think,” Stefan reflected in a hum-drum voice, moving like a boxer within the swinging and thrashing of the tree-monster. He used his hands to rip away bark as often as he used his sword to chip away, debilitating the monster little by little.

Dominicous, for his part, did the same thing, his tattoos glowing alongside Stefan’s. His movements were jerky and vicious where Stefan’s flowed from one strike to the next in perfect, powerful harmony, but each took down the beast in his own way.

After about ten minutes, both men panting and sweaty, I was able to effectively draw enough power out to render the beast immobile. All that remained in its stead was firewood. Which was a money saver come winter—I informed everyone of that fact.

You’re welcome.

Stefan yanked off his shirt and sopped the sweat from his chiseled, handsome face. His body glistened in the faint moonlight, his animal magnetism drawing me to him, having me rubbing my palm up his chest without realizing how I got there.

“Thanks for the workout, love,” he said, glancing his lips off of mine. “I needed that. It’s been a stressful couple of days.”

“Two more power levels to go,” Dominicous said, stripping his shirt and wiping the sweat off his own face.

I noticed a long, twisted scar up the side of Dominicous’s chest. White lines zigzagged across his back, as if he’d been whipped. He saw me looking, and let me. Battle wounds, or the reason he didn’t want to attempt emergence—or re-emergence, in his case—into the public eye?

I settled on both. I suddenly knew what he fought for. Which side he was on, and why.

“Which was that, gold?” I asked the growing crowd. “So now white.”

“Does this create larger monsters?” Stefan asked with a smirk. “Because now I’m warmed up.”

“No,” I answered, focusing. “Now I do something a touch more scary. No matter what freaking spell I try, I end up with the same result. I abhor working with white for this reason. Stefan, get ready to catch some magic—otherwise we might stand and blink for an hour before it drifts away.”

Another huge breath. I drew power and readied myself, a tear falling down my cheek. I really, really hated this one.

The spell let loose, a blanket of magic so fluffy and white it could have been snow. It solidified onto the ground in front of us, the trees disappearing as if they’d never been there, the sky going blue, the ground turning from lush brown and green to a hard, cracked plain of dirt. Desert as far as the eye could see. Nothingness. Death to any wayward traveler.

I heard gasps and shrieks, watching a giant dinosaur walk toward me from the right. Fear gripped me as I noticed its foot long fangs. As I noticed it, noticing me, I turned toward Stefan, reaching out to him. He stepped closer, his eyes wide in shock, his mouth hanging out.

“What is this?” he asked, his words unsure.

“An illusion. Everyone lives it with me. We can wander around in this place, thinking we are trapped in the desert, and potentially hurt ourselves in real life, which we can’t see or feel. If we stay still, the dinosaur takes extremely painful bites from us. If we run…”

“You could die or badly hurt yourself. Why did you never tell me? How did I not know about this?”

“I did it once in class and was forbidden from ever doing it again. Since then, I’ve tried to work on my own—Charles and Adnan wouldn’t leave my side when they knew—to free up using the white power, but… This happens every time. The illusion goes only as far as my magic reaches, obviously, but that’s plenty far. On a side note, isn’t Toa’s stare really irritating?”

“He can hear you, you know—”

“The scaled monster is upon us. What happens now?” Toa interrupted, staring at a jaw full of teeth. If he was worried, he hid it behind that angelic face.

“Well, we get bit. It hurts.”

“Can you get yourself out of here?” Toa watched the T-Rex step toward us on those powerful back feet, the mostly useless hands half curled at its chest.

“Nope. Not for about an hour. Then I can draw the magic back out.”

“An hour, did you say?” That eyebrow had raised a millimeter again.

“Question: do you change your facial expression during sex?” I asked, sidetracked.

“He does, yes,” Dominicous said, stepping to Stefan’s and my sides. “Will its bite kill me?”