Page 303 of Interion

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she bit out, each syllable dripping with disdain.

“Not even a 'please'? I'm truly hurt, love.”

The voracious's iris elongated and her entire eyeball turned black. Serguei drew a deep breath, his heart pounding. A chain shot toward him and he dodged, striking back with his sword. The woman seized the moment to run, but the instant she reached the first tree at the forest's edge, Serguei attacked her mind. Her body froze mid-stride and doubled over under the assault.

When the assault weakened, she whirled and launched a mental counterattack. The psychic merely blinked—it was nothing compared to his own power. The woman turned toward the cabin again, but Serguei struck at her mind once more, raking her shields like a lion sharpening its claws. The voracious grunted, finally realizing she couldn't reach the cabin without a fight. She turned back, and Serguei saw death dancing in the pools of darkness that were her eyes.

Chains rose like octopus arms as she launched herself at him, and sparks flew the instant steel met iron. The chains whipped around him—while one crashed against his sword, another was already on its way, forcing him to keep moving, swinging his blade to dodge and guard his flanks. It was an insane rhythm, and the rain only made it worse, but Serguei held on, deflecting every blow.

In contrast, the woman's cold eyes—once the most beautiful he'd ever seen—stared at him with an intensity that was almost painful. But it wasn't the pitch-black eyes that made him falter. It was when they returned to normal that Serguei felt his heart skip. The woman seemed to understand this, because now she fought with Ravena's eyes, staring at him as if she knew they were a deadlier weapon than any sharpened metal. Serguei resisted, murmuring to himself that this wasn't the woman he loved. When he did, she gave him that sideways smile—exactly as the woman he'd loved used to do. He shoved the thought away and nearly died to the cold chains while trying not to die from the sweet memories.

Despite all the confusion in his mind, Serguei was still a skilled swordsman, but his true strength lay in his psychic power. If he wanted, he could tear down her barriers and enter her subconscious to kill her, just as he'd done with Ravena. But if he did that, everything would be over for him. That wasn't an option—he'd have to hold on until Zion arrived.

“Before you die, I'd like to thank you,” the voracious said, licking her lips.

Serguei suppressed a grunt when one of the blades grazed past his leg and sliced back across, leaving a shallow cut.

“You'll have to be more specific, love! I don't have a crystal ball.” He swung his sword, blocking her strikes.

“You helped me come into this world,” the woman clarified, studying him with those deceitful eyes. “Confused? Let me explain.” She advanced, a chain nearly striking the psychic's feet. “I controlled your wife's every step and paved her entire path to that cave, but I always wondered if you'd be capable of killing her when she finally reached the pool. And wow—you made the sacrifice so easily.”

Serguei narrowed his eyes, dodging and leaping with precision, tracking every movement to block it in time. But the voracious's words distracted him just long enough—he didn't see the third chain coming.

“Duck,” Julius's voice commanded in his mind. He threw himself to the ground as the chain whistled through the space where his neck had been a heartbeat before.

“Did you know her soul is still in the valley of the moon?” the woman asked. Serguei tried not to listen, but he couldn't help it. “She can't reincarnate because she can't forgive you.”

“Lies,” the sonar whispered in his mind. Serguei clenched his jaw, keeping his focus on the six chains hurtling toward him, but his thoughts kept drifting to Ravena. It only got worse when he looked at the voracious and saw his own wife.

“She still cries for you, Serguei,” the other continued, circling like a restless cat, searching for a way to end the fight quickly. Golden energy still pulsed outward in waves, but it would soon run dry, and she had to reach the receptacle before it did. “She can't get over your betrayal.”

“Shut up!” Serguei shouted, reaching his limit.

He attacked the woman's mind with blow after blow, beating, tearing, and pushing until the barrier began to crack. As the voracious defended herself mentally, Serguei noticed she couldn't attack with the metal while using her psychic gift—and he remembered Zion saying he could never use two powers at the same time.

This could be his chance.

He concentrated on breaking her mental barrier, and just when he thought he'd breach her shield, the voracious stopped defending psychically and struck Serguei's side with two chains that sent him rolling away. He staggered up, spitting blood, and raised his sword again.

“Tell me where you left Nuadros's and Calistra's eyes, and I'll give you a clean death,” the woman demanded.

The psychic clutched his side where the chain had struck him. A gash had opened there, blood flowing and mixing with the rainwater.

“Never,” he snarled, clutching the deep wound.

“Such courage for someone who's about to die.”

The chains shrieked through the air, and Serguei attacked the voracious's mind, halting her assault just long enough for him to roll clear. The woman grabbed her head and screamed—she hadn't been prepared for the force of the blow.

Then he orchestrated a pattern of attacks and defenses based on what he knew about the fight. When the woman attacked, he blocked and then struck back at her mind, forcing her to block him in turn, which gave him time to close the distance. It was a dance where every second was precious, the hammering of steel against iron producing a song of desperate rhythm. The psychic attacked and countered until he gained ground and got close enough to land a fatal blow. By now, he could feel his power draining—he'd used so much of it to exterminate the carniceals. But when he finally drove his sword toward her chest, attacking her mind simultaneously, she unexpectedly drew a dagger from her waist. Serguei couldn't strike her without being hit himself. He thought that if he was lucky, he might survive the wound.

He put everything into the blow while watching the blade aim for his heart, but at the last moment, shadows engulfed his body and Serguei felt himself slide into darkness. The psychic stared in shock as his son held him tight, positioning them behind the voracious.

“Are you okay?” Zion asked.

His voice was determined, cold as polished obsidian. The psychic breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes. How's the girl?”