Page 2 of Lunar Diamonds (Celestial Magic #1)

RILEY

S hades. Creatures made of flesh and shadows. Created by shadow magic, a menace to society for the past forty years. Unkillable.

Humanoid in shape, shades were in possession of big claws and murderous intent. Let one get too close, and you may find yourself in the afterlife.

The shade hissed, showing off its strange, pointed red teeth as shadows rippled across its genderless body.

Crap. Why wasn’t the Radiance Pulse Cannon kicking in?

Ice flooded my veins, fear coming in for an unwelcome hug. The bite scar on my left thigh throbbed in memory of a shade attack that almost took my life six months ago—after leaving a great date with a werebear.

It’d been one of the worst shades I’d ever seen, and the strangest. After it bit me, it circled me, not going for a second attack, its crimson stare so bright it made my eyes water.

“What do you want!” I’d demanded, helpless and in pain on the ground, too frightened to use the magic of my witch bangle to defend myself. And too confused by its behavior.

My date had found me, having heard my screams. The shade fled, and I got whisked off to hospital without the werebear.

I never heard from him again. Officially ghosted.

Nina growled, bringing me out of my flashback.

“Shithead,” she said.

The shade’s hissing weakened my knees. Fear like sickly slime oozed through my body, paralyzing me. Every time I saw one, I returned to that night, wondering if my attacker was back for one more bite. To peel my flesh strip by strip, chew on my sinew, suck the marrow from my bones.

Dive into a Riley Croft buffet, arsehole!

A silly idea, but one that plagued my dreams.

Damn this crippling fear. Damn these shadowy arseholes.

Damn Kane Kingwood for creating them.

A second shade landed in the workroom, facing the corridor leading to the staff room and the first floor of the library where we kept all the non-fiction.

I almost keeled over.

Two of them. Just great. Thanks to the universe for putting this in my path today. Cheers. I really needed that.

Ugh.

Nina cracked her knuckles. She might not be able to shift into wolf form outside of a full moon, but she possessed some skull-cracking strength. I celebrated her presence with an internal whoop.

The first shade charged at her, springing into the air with its claws poised to render flesh from bone. She dodged and countered its attack with a vicious right hook, connecting with the shade’s head so hard it spun through the air before smacking the window, leaving spidery cracks on the glass.

It crashed into the staff computers along the window, thrashing aggressively, tearing through wires and paperwork, knocking the desks over.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

The Shade Horns blared to life like something out of a fantasy movie’s big battle sequence.

I swallowed, shaking my hands as if to disperse my fear. Every instinct told me to run, my bladder about to give up the ghost.

No. Stand your ground…

The second shade darted into the corridor as the first shade went for Nina again.

Riddled with fear, I listened to the shade slam itself into the door leading to the non-fiction section, the screams beyond the wood and glass making me wince.

I had to help. I had to do something, not be freaked-out jelly.

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

A bite to the thigh wasn’t the worst thing to happen. There were survivors who’d lost arms and eyes and even every limb in some cases. But they carried on. They didn’t let shades diminish their spirits. I’d read their interviews, watched countless documentaries, a little ashamed of myself for not being more like them.

The night of my attack, there’d been an unsolved murder at a house near my mum’s. A family of five slaughtered in their beds. Not by shades, but a shadow witch. So, yeah, I really had to suck it up.

Easier said than done. Trauma wasn’t easy to shake off. Sometimes I could be strong, other times I fell apart. Too scared to function. And I dangled over that pit right now.

I have to help.

A crash thundered in the corridor, signaling the destruction of the doors. Terrified screams tore through the air, the shade’s raspy voice announcing everyone’s doom.

“Blood for us,” it said.

Dammit.

A third shade landed in the workroom. Nina grunted, barreling past me to deliver a flying kick, followed by a twirling to uppercut the first shade.

Her attack broke my stupor, releasing a flood of courage. I curled my hands into tight fists, anger sparking to life.

I have to help.

Shades. Dirty, rotten shades. In my library, infecting my life again.

Arseholes.

My adrenaline flared, chasing away the throbbing in my foot. Seeing as the Radiance Pulse Cannon still hadn’t fired, it was time to fight the fear and scrap with the enemy.

Hell yeah. I wanted more of this attitude.

My heart racing at the rate of a terrified rat, I ran after the shade before my influx of bravery failed. I leaped over the ruined double doors, clocking a broken window, and saw another shade crouching over a dead body.

The creature’s fist was buried inside a woman’s chest, her blood a vast pool of crimson beneath her. A long red tongue lapped up the blood, making my stomach churn.

I gagged, holding firm to my new strength, my adrenaline spiking harder.

The rest of the customers took cover under the public computer desks along the back wall opposite me, or prayed in the book stacks.

Okay. Two shades. One busy with that poor dead woman, the other slowly moving toward the computers, taking its merry time to stalk the cowering people.

“Help us!” a man cried from beneath a desk, waving at me.

The shade hissed and spun, fixing me with its red gaze.

Without overthinking, I summoned a spell through the witch bangle, my fingertips rippling with blue energy.

“Witch!” the shade seethed. “Loathsome shimmer witch.”

It charged.

“Trip!” I cried, clapping my hands to release the magic—essential for all spellcasting.

The shade tripped close to the stairs, landing hard on its arse.

Woohoo!

It leaped back to its feet, red eyes ablaze with fury. “Foolish witch will bleed his life across this floor!”

Lovely. I clung to my courage, refusing to give up.

I hadn’t been this sweaty in a while.

The other shade plucked its fist from the woman’s chest, stalking towards its comrade.

Uh-oh.

No, no, no. Hold the line. Don’t let those knees give out!

Okay, what spell next? There were three to choose from.

Trip. Deflect. Hide. Enough to get through a dicey situation, according to the High Coven.

Which one? Which one?

An old human woman armed with an iron skillet crept up behind the shade who’d killed the other woman. Why the hell did she bring a skillet to a library?

Never mind. Better that than nothing.

I purposely avoided making eye contact, focused on the monstrosities.

The shade I’d tripped came at me.

“Trip!” Losing its footing, it tumbled and crashed into a public computer.

The woman with the skillet attacked, bringing her weapon down on the shade’s head. Oof. It clanged like a bell, the shadowy arsehole crumbling.

My skull throbbed in solidarity.

“Take that,” she said, pushing her half-moon spectacles up her nose.

Hecate bless her and her skillet.

Okay, time to clear this floor.

“Quickly,” I told the customers, directing them toward the stairs while the shades saw stars.

I activated my aura lenses by blinking the unlock code. None of these people seemed to be supernaturals from what I could make out, their auras a human yellow.

Nina joined me, brushing down her clothes. “Those ones are gone.”

“Thank Hecate.”

She nodded, launching into an attack on the two remaining shades. She broke one of their necks, then stomped on the other’s head, cracking it like an egg.

They screeched, their shadows swirling in an angry vortex of black smoke for a couple of beats before dissipating.

Although shades were unkillable, delivering a ‘fatal’ injury sent them packing, their essence sent away to search for a shadow witch to recycle it.

Nina flipped her hair. “Done.”

In the name of Hecate, she was fabulous. “You’re amazing.”

She didn’t respond, directing the customers to the stairs.

Right. Evacuation.

I stayed alert, turning slowly for a three-sixty of the first floor. My courage held, but the crash would come soon. It stalked my perimeter, ready to take me down.

Hard.

Still, go me for kicking some arse today.

“Riley! Nina!” Carol called from the ground floor.

I hurried to the balcony.

“We’re here,” I said, leaning on the wooden balustrade.

The library doors were open, customers and colleagues evacuating. Not the goblin, he jabbered on his phone by the photocopier, constantly throwing glares at my boss.

Was it really that deep? We’d suffered a shade attack. His War and Peace drama really paled in comparison.

“Are you alright?” Carol asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“I will be. Get down here.”

The iron skillet woman was the last to leave the first floor, taking the stairs slowly with Nina’s help.

What a day for the elevator to be out of order.

A shade smashed through a ground floor window behind Carol. It rolled across the floor, straight past my manager, and sprang up bedside the goblin.

Oh, no.

Those customers still on the stairs ran for their lives, leaping off the stairwell in a panic.

The goblin barely had time to blink before the shade sunk its claws into his chest. A horrible wail burst out of him, a sickening gargle choking him off.

“Blood for us!” the shade spat in its raspy voice.

It dragged its claws from chest to belly, blood pouring from the goblin’s mouth and the new opening the shade made. His innards spilled across the carpet, drawing a painful gasp from the depths of my lungs.

Oh my goodness. I froze, rigid with terror. Despite seeing the dead woman upstairs, my courage finally cracked. My knees buckled and I went down, landing hard on my kneecaps. I whimpered in pain, my eyes watering.

Don’t let me die here…

Screams. Chaos. Noise stabbing at my ears. I slumped forward, hands landing on the floor. My fingers dug into the rough carpet, a sickly dizziness engulfing me.

The pain in my foot returned, adding to the pile-on.

Damn.

Don’t let me die here…

“Riley?”

Too much. Too much. Too much. My fear overwhelmed me, the trauma potent and as raw as six months ago. I pleaded with Hecate to make it stop, to pluck it out and cast it into the fire.

Please…

“Riley?”

But I wouldn’t be free. Those vile ticks of remembrance were burrowed so deeply it would take major surgery to dig them out.

“Riley?”

My head sank into thick soup, the rest of me needing a time out.

Why did courage desert me now?

“Riley? Talk to me.”

Carol’s voice.

I want my courage.

Yeah, just like the lion from The Wizard of Oz . But not really.

A hand landed on my back as light as a feather. My vision filled with darkness and the watery film of tears.

No talking. Peace and quiet. A moment to breathe.

A moment away from the screaming.

I saw the Radiance Pulse Cannon outside the library’s main entrance finally come to life, glowing with terrific azure light, building to a crackling crescendo.

The shade panicked, trying to run. But the light exploded, bathing everything in blue brilliance.

I passed out.