Page 62 of Wicked Curses
Though the only onewho could detect him in the room was a stronger dark fae—so, only Cole—Orin didn’t move and barely breathed as he stood in the corner while Sahira finally slid into sleep. Her breaths were the only sounds in the room.
He glanced at the dwindling candle and the closed shutters. It was impossible to tell what time it was, but it must have been at least a couple of hours since he finished work.
Would this thing arrive before dawn or after it? Daybreak was still at least half an hour away, but he suspected it was more of a night creature.
He was beginning to think it wouldn’t arrive, and the candle had nearly burned out when the shadows to the right of her bed shifted. Almost no one else would have noticed this subtle change, but like all dark fae, he had an affinity with the shadows.
The shadows were a part of him, and he was closer to them since he was stronger than almost every other dark fae. And this wasn’t another dark fae.
The possibility of it being such had crossed his mind. He didn’t mention it to Sahira because she would have jumped at the option, even if he believed it was a long shot.
The dark fae had no reason to try to kill her. They weren’t known for their kindness, but they didn’t randomly attack other immortals, and Sahira hadn’t done anything to give them a reason to attack.
They would have come to him if she had. He was a dark fae prince with no authority in this realm, but a couple of them had still come to him to air their grievances like he gave a shit.
He’d told them to take it up with Belda. They still looked to him as their leader and wouldn’t attack someone with a faint familial connection to him; they would come to him first. He was certain of it.
And he was just as certain the witches and warlocks had something to do with this. He’d told Carmella to make sure they left her alone, and as he’d suspected, most of them glared at him but remained mute.
The only ones who didn’t care were Radagast and Elsa, but the warlock acted as if everything was beneath him, and Elsa mainly stuck to herself. He’d warned the witches, but they hadn’t heeded it, and they would pay for that.
The shifting coalesced into a figure that rose from the ground beside Sahira’s bed. The shadows… no, they weren’t shadows.
These things were something else, something used to disguise whatever had come into this room… or theywerethe thing.
He’d never heard of or seen anything like this, but this realm containedmanymysteries. It wouldn’t surprise him if it held countless unknown creatures too.
This thing didn’t have a mouth, but a parting within the darkness around the being created a gap resembling one. When it opened its mouthlike thing wider, it revealed the wall behind it.
The thing was more of a disembodied face than something with a torso and legs. Like its mouth, its eyes were two openings that revealed the space beyond, but there were no eyeballs.
Foot-long, hooked fingers inched toward Sahira. Excitement emanated from it; this thing would drool in anticipation if it had a mouth. Fascinated by it, Orin tilted his head to examine its floating approach toward Sahira.
It was almost to her when he pulled free the weapon he always wore strapped to his side. The small sword had a thick blade but was lightweight and easily maneuverable. He spent many hours honing its lethalness; it could cut through tendons and bone as easily as scissors through paper.
He didn’t shed the shadows enveloping him as he crossed the room with so much speed the creature only gained a few inches on her before he was almost on it. Leaping onto the bed, he closed the distance between himself and the beast.
With the shadows still cloaking him, the creature couldn’t see him coming, but the bedsprings creaked, and the bed shifted beneath his weight. The strange, free-floating head turned toward him a second before he crashed into it.
That was when he proved it wasn’t some floating, unknown creature. It was a living, breathing immortal who would die.
* * *
Sahira wokewith a gasp as a loud bang resonated through the room and something metal clattered against the wood. She bolted upright in time to see the fingers stretching toward her throat before jerking away.
She scrambled back across her bed as a shadowy figure hit the ground with a thud that rattled the floor and walls. At first, she had no idea why it was on the floor, thrashing like it was trying to kill someone while its grunts filled the room.
The lingering remnants of sleep dissipated, and she recalled the events of last night. Orin was in her room when she went to bed; he was cloaked in shadows and still was.
Heart racing, her breath came in rapid pants as she removed the dagger from beneath her pillow and leaned forward to see more of the fight. Because shadows blocked half the figure, Sahira could kind of tell where Orin was, but while he remained cloaked in shadows, she couldn’t be certain.
It was tempting, but she couldn’t try to kill whatever else was in the room with them without being sure where he was. She couldn’t accidentally stab Orin… at least not this time.
Bracing herself on the edge of the bed, she kept her knees apart and the dagger’s hilt clasped in both hands while waiting to end whoever had tormented her. She’d gladly plunge her blade through their black heart when she got the chance.
In the corner, almost hidden by shadows, she spotted the silver hilt of a small sword. She didn’t know if it was Orin’s or the intruder’s.
Thuds, grunts, and a cry sounded as Orin unleashed a series of unseen blows on the thing. Or she assumed it was him doing the beating, as it didn’t sound like him making all the noise.
