Page 22 of Malicent (Seven Devils #1)

A pool of onyx spews from the side of her neck, bursting in thick, viscous waves after my final strike.

The blood sizzles. It splatters against my shield, hissing as it trickles down the barrier.

Pieces of her esophagus slip from my blade, and the heaps of tissue hit the ground with a sickening splat.

Her form wavers, as if deciding whether or not it should fall. Then she crumples. No final twitch. Just a hollow collapse.

I let out a slow breath. It’s done. My shield retracts. The air shudders as the energy dissipates, leaving only the stink of corpse. I crouch, reaching for my satchel, ready to clean off my blade before the corrosive blood can do any lasting damage. Then—

A loud cry splits the cavern.

Deafening.

The shrilling cry makes the walls shake violently. Dust rains from the ceiling as loose stones crack and drop, shattering upon impact.

My head snaps upwards.

Between two stalactites, something stirs, and I should have seen it before.

Long, deep-violet bat wings unfold from the darkness. Clawed fingers, capable of shredding through reinforced steel, anchor its massive frame.

It was watching me the whole time.

Muscles ripple beneath ashen, scarred flesh, coiled tight beneath its leathery hide. Even the long hairs across its back, when suspended in stillness, mimicked stalactites blending it seamlessly into the cave’s canopy.

It moves.

The snarl it releases rattles my bones.

Its gaunt, skeletal face tilts downward, sunken feline-yellow eyes locking on to me with malicious intent. A mouth—too wide, too jagged—parts. Countless rows of needle-thin, yellowed teeth drip with saliva.

This is a Crepitus Vox, but this one is wrong. More advanced. Mutated.

I set my blade down, the threat of corrosion keeping me from sheathing it. Rolling my neck, I loosen the tension, letting the movement travel down to my shoulders, into my arms, and into my fingers.

The air crackles—a whoosh, then a hiss—as onyx and blue flames combust at my fingertips. Flooding the chamber with flickering light.

A chittering pulse fills the air.

It slams into my mind like a hammer. My mental shield shudders, rattling like an earthquake determined to bring the foundations down.

I grit my teeth. Hold strong. Focus .

Flames burst from my hands, a violent surge of blue and black. My arms chase the creature’s form as it vaults from wall to wall.

It responds instantly. The pulsations increase in frequency, vibrating through the cavern like a war drum. My bones rattle, my arms, my legs going numb.

I persevere. Even mutated, advanced, I can take down a Crep. I’ve faced worse. Fought worse, and in greater numbers.

I step forward, tracking its movements, and my boot knocks something.

The girl’s body.

A wave of cold crashes over me.

No. Something is wrong.

A jagged tear rips through my mental shield. The pulsations flood in, wave after wave. Raw alien pressure slams into my skull and I feel as though it’s splitting.

Hunger, so hungry. The thought floods repeatedly to me making my stomach cramp and my mouth salivate. My flames flicker, then extinguish.

I gasp, clutching my head as the world tilts, spins, and distorts. The force digs deeper, wreaking havoc in my mind.

“Dost thou hunger?”

The voice hisses into my mind, a deep and unnatural baritone that slithers through my thoughts like oil. The shock of hearing it—understanding it—nearly drowns out the pain.

Nearly.

Agony slams into my bones. The pressure feels like it cracks my skull, and all at once the pain of a thousand needles pushes through my mind like a pin cushion.

My body locks up. Every muscle stiffens, a slow, creeping paralysis spreading through my limbs.

My knees buckle. I drop, hitting the ground hard.

“Sweet lamb.”

Its voice coils around me, suffocating me, tightening my muscles. The words are mocking, indulgent, as if it’s savoring its meal before taking the first bite.

This…

This is worse than I thought.

The mutations are more than what I imagined—far beyond. Telepathy? An entire domain? That shouldn’t be possible. How did it even get past my wall?

The girl. Something about her.

I don’t have time to figure it out. The Crep moves.

I fall forward, my body completely unresponsive. My vision blurs, but I can still hear it.

The claws scrape against stone as it dismounts from the wall. The ground trembles beneath me. I can feel it approaching. It’s coming to feed.

The beast purrs, sniffing the air with great satisfaction. “Lamb for slaughter,” it murmurs, inhaling deeply, savoring my scent. “For thee to feast. Born of dark, but not like thee.”

I need to move, but I cannot.

Then—

Something else shifts in the shadows. A second presence.

A growl, then the eyes. Sapphire pierces through the darkness, and the Crepitus Vox stops. It sniffs the air. A low, guttural clicking vibrates from its throat in a warning.

It knows.

A new predator is near.

The rotting stench thickens as the Crep steps over me. I want to vomit, but I do not wretch. Its massive weight shifts above my frozen body, pausing as it takes in the new arrival. Not to shield me, but rather to guard its meal.

The shadows suddenly ripple. Oily waves of black smoke twist into a solid form, pooling into the shape of a massive panther. Six long, sinuous snakes protrude from its back, their bodies coiling and flicking as they taste the air.

Its sapphire eyes remain locked on the Crep, sizing up the bigger threat.

Muscles coil.

It pounces, and the Crep lunges to meet it. They clash in a flurry of claws and fangs. Exploding in a flurry of movement, bodies slam into stone, and snarls and screeches tear through the cavern.

I cannot see them anymore. Only the sounds remain.

I lay frozen, staring at the cavern wall, waiting for the victor.