Page 102 of Blood Oath
It’s odd, running into this rare monster here, of all places.
My moment of hesitation evaporates, and all my training kicks in at once. The next time it moves for me, I counter it smoothly. For a moment, we’re caught in a silent, deadly dance as the creature tries to angle the sword to nick me again, and I block and avoid its every attempt.
Killing it would be easy, but I need it alive for questioning. If it’s wearing Kenzie’s face, then it already got its hands on her. Which means she might be in danger.
Or she might be dead.
That thought sends anger through me, and I bury a dagger in its arm, forcing the changeling to drop the sword. It clatters loudly to the tiles, but I don’t have time to worry about someone in the faculty hall overhearing us right now.
It swings for me, but I duck and grip the arm over my head simultaneously, using the creature’s momentum to send it crashing to the floor. Before it can right herself, I straddle it, ignoring the agony curling through my system from my gaping stomach wound, and pin its other arm to the ground using a silver dagger from my boot. I cover its mouth to muffle its scream.
Its voice is Kenzie’s, too. That pisses me off.
“Where is she?” I hiss, ripping down my nose and mouth covering.
The changeling struggles beneath me, trying to dislodge its pinned arm as it glares up, a disturbing mirror image of Kenzie. Except for the pupils. That’s one giveaway of a changeling—slightly square pupils. Most people don’t know to look for that, but this is not the first time I’ve crossed paths with this kind of monster.
Someone knocks on the office door, and Mr. Gibbons’ voice calls out, “Headmaster? Are you in there?”
Shit.
I go still while muffling the face of the creature. It bites my palm deeply, drawing blood. As if that would get me to release it. When it feels my blood ooze into its mouth, it starts to choke on the liquid and thrashes in a panic while I smirk quietly down at it.
But I don’t hear anything else from Gibbons, and soon I withdraw my hand, trying to wrestle the monster off the floor quietly.
It puts up a fight, which is inconvenient because I’m starting to get lightheaded from blood loss. When it manages to dig an elbow into the gash across my waist, pain ricochets down my spine, and everything goes blurry for a moment as my body briefly goes into shock.
And in that moment of weakness, I can’t fend off the creature as it grapples at my chest, drawing out the dagger that was just visible in one of my concealed pockets. I’d had it at the ready to take out the headmaster, but all at once, the adamantine infused with nightshade powder penetrates my chest—aiming for my heart.
I can’t stop the cry that escapes my lips when the ice-like agony explodes across my body. My veins bulge and thicken beneath my skin with a sensation like a thousand needles pricking every inch of them. The nightshade root powder makes it unbearable.
Suddenly, I’m lying flat on my back beside the dead headmaster, unable to breathe or move as my life saps away. My blood pools onto the tiles beneath me.
It’s the exact scene from my last episode.
The changeling stands over me, and just as my vision blurs, I see the creature’s eyes and hair darken. Its face morphs slowly, changing from Kenzie’s, and just before nothingness claims me, I’m looking up into my own face.
And then I’m gone.
31
CRYPT
The only thing keeping me semi-insane while I search for my missing obsession is fantasizing about how I’ll kill Frost if she’s as hurt by his words as I suspect she might be.
First, I would break his mind, of course. He deserves to suffer intensely, keenly. Just as I am, the longer I float through the void of Limbo without any trace of Maven’s aura or any hint of her existence in sight.
What if she’s crying somewhere, alone, thinking we were only interested in her for sex?
I’ll murder someone if I find her in tears.
Again, it will likely be Frost.
I have no idea where the other two are. Possibly they’re working together to look for her, but I’m far more efficient working alone. Though, I’m beginning to get frustrated. There was no trace left of her leaving the inn, her phone goes straight to voicemail, and now I’m floating through the walls of Everbound University, searching every nook and cranny.
She has to be here. I saw her friend’s car parked in the parking lot, though there was no lingering hint of her essence anywhere near it. Just how long ago did she return? The fact that she returned so late at night, sleepless and exhausted, puts me on edge. What if she had crashed that damn car? And what if, at this moment, she’s in her dorm room, trapped in a horrifying nightmare? I’m unable to reach her there, thanks to the dreamcatcher.
But I didn’t see remnants of her beautiful aura in that hallway.
