Page 75 of Of Blackened Blood (The Blackened Blade #3)

I turn toward the direction it came from and see Gadriel dashing through the forest trees and heading straight for us. He’s clutching another dagger in his hand with his longsword tucked around his back and a dark glare focused on Croy as he moves closer.

Gadriel darts straight for him and is upon Croy in seconds, his other dagger lashing out toward him as he pushes him back and away from me.

Croy lets out a yell as Gadriel gets the better of him, and half a dozen figures rush from the forest nearby and begin attacking Gadriel while helping Croy.

I manage to break free from the restraints Mrs. Fleur had tied me in— not a heavy enough metal to hold my strength or spelled enough to restrain me —and jump up, ready to join the fight.

But a knife sitting at my throat soon stops me. It nips into my skin as Mrs. Fleur’s floral scent hits me. “Awake all along, were we?”

Her voice is low, her tone dark and taunting.

“That’s fine. It’s better than having to pretend I give a fuck about you.

You’ve been a thorn in my side for months now.

You were a lot more fun to watch when you were wallowing in your own misery.

” She snarls, pushing the blade tighter against my neck and drawing blood.

“You should have stayed that way, then none of this would have happened. But you changed ... you noticed something, didn’t you?

” she muses, a dark chuckle leaving her lips.

“I told Seria that the moment you stopped wearing her syphoner something was off. But she was too na?ve. She thought she knew you better.”

A bitter scoff leaves her lips. “I should have made my move back then. I should have uprooted you, locked you away, and let them drain you dry.” Her voice begins to rise, her hand shaking with anger. “If I had snuffed you out back then, you wouldn’t have had a chance to take my beloved Gerad.”

My fists clench at my sides. “I don’t know who the fuck your ‘Gerad’ is?—”

“Don’t say his name!” she shrieks as a slice of pain sears across my neck, her body leaning in closer to mine. “Don’t taint his name with your vile tongue,” she grits out as a trail of blood trickles down my chest. “You and those damn Infernal Four should burn in hell for what you did to him .”

I grit my teeth through the pain and her bullshit. One wrong move and her blade could catch an artery, and I could bleed out before properly healing.

I will have to bide my time and wait for an opening.

“That damn safe house ... it should have been a simple in-and-out job,” she continues, her hand gripping her blade tighter. “But you horrible little pricks had to be there. You had to fight back instead of accepting your fate.”

My brows scrunch together. The safe house? Erving’s safe house? The one that was recently attacked in Crayne City?

Realisation dawns on me. Was her precious Gerad one of the attackers that ambushed Erving, Silas, and Luche that night?

A small grin tilts my lips. Good riddance.

“You little pricks killed my Gerad. He died in that explosion, keeping our line and honour safe. He sacrificed everything for our cause ...” Her hand begins to shake again, pain and anger swirling in her voice, making her movements more frantic.

“And you and those little bastards tore his body to pieces!”

By the sound of her voice and the quick steadying of her hand, I could feel that she was going to make her move on me soon.

But with the position of her body and the blade sitting so close to my neck, it is making it difficult to manoeuvre away from her without taking any damage to myself.

I need her more frantic and worked up. That way she will be more likely to make mistakes, and I can find a better opening to break free.

“If I can’t lock you away and make you suffer ...” She leans closer to my ear, her voice falling low. “Then I’ll just have to kill you myse?—”

“ Gerad. Now I remember,” I call out as her movements still.

“He was the tall guy in the black outfit with the horrible attitude, right?” A small grin tilts my lips as her hands start to slightly shake, her composure already cracking.

“He really liked his weapons. That magical bomb in particular ...” A light whistle leaves my lips.

“It was my first time seeing so many pieces of a body scattered ... everywhere .”

“You ... stop. Now—” she grits out, the shake in her hands growing as I continue.

“He sacrificed alright ...” I chuckle. “All of his tiny brain to the kitchen counter ... and on top of the stairs ... and to the floor. There were little sacrifices everywh?—”

Before I can finish my words, her free hand lands a blow to my ribs, the hand with her blade moving slightly to accommodate the move.

And before she can fix the blade back against my throat, I push my arm upward, blocking her hand with the knife with my forearm before grabbing it, twisting around, and headbutting her. Hard.

The knife falls from her hand, blood dripping from her forehead as her eyes flicker and close, her body dropping to the forest floor below us.

I kick the knife away, sending it flying into the forest a few feet away before nudging her body with my foot, making sure she is properly unconscious.

I’ll tie her up now and bring her with me after I find the guys, and we’ll extract every answer we need from her.

She seems to know a lot more than anyone else we’ve found. And I’ll take personal pleasure in forcing her to speak.

Just as I’m looking around for something to restrain her with, I hear a voice shout my name.

“Watch out, Micai!” Gadriel calls as I twist around, dodging a sharp sword aimed at my back. I evade a second quick attack by the same man, nimbly flipping out of the way while grabbing the dagger Gadriel throws to me, mid-air.

Landing on the ground, my dagger blocks the sword as it slashes my way again, the bulky man persistent in his flurry of attacks. His dark eyes narrow as I hold my ground, my own strength beginning to push his sword back toward him.

His eyes widen as I add more strength, pushing him back with more ease than before as he tries to hold strong against me.

I give another hard push and he stumbles backward, shock across his features, and his guard drops for a split second.

I lunge forward while he’s distracted and stab my dagger into his neck, watching on as blood gurgles from his mouth before he falls to the ground lifelessly.

The sound of multiple footsteps ring out behind me as I twist around and find four more figures charging from the dark forest nearby, weapons at the ready as they aim for me and Gadriel.

I dash toward them, summoning my blades before throwing one toward the figure closest to Gadriel, hitting him dead centre in the chest. He goes down instantly, and I call my blade back to me as I ready myself for another attack.

One of the other figures turns my way; it’s a man taller than all the others around him and much broader, with a frame any Viking would be proud of.

He lunges for me just before I reach Gadriel and the group still fighting, a large hammer-like weapon in his hands as he attacks me.

I jump back, gripping my black blades in my hands and evading his attack as he quickly twists around before attacking with his hammer again.

I hold his weapon off with one blade and all my strength before attacking him with my other. I throw the free blade toward his body, landing it into his upper torso and pulling a pained grunt from his lips.

Then I twist around and knock his heavy hammer to the ground and throw my other blade toward him, aiming for his head. But the big brute catches it with his hands, a sneer coating his lips, thinking he’s left me with no weapon.

But I call both blades back to me—and instead of reshaping and forming in my hands—they move to me like metal would to a magnet, slicing anything in their path to get back to me. Including half of his fingers and flesh from his chest.

A deep holler leaves his lips before I throw both blades back toward him, one landing deep inside his chest and the other hitting dead centre between his eyes. His tall frame hits the ground with a thump as the area begins to quake again.

Another loud, feral howl rings out in the distance as I turn back toward Gadriel. Two armed figures surround him, one with a scythe-like weapon, static forming at its tip and ready to attack Gadriel from behind, as the other weaves strange wire-like magic around him, trying to hold him in place.

I notice Gadriel’s longsword on the ground a few feet from me and move closer. I throw one of my blades into the warlock’s wiry magic while aiming my other blade toward the warlock himself. Then I leap to where the longsword lies.

Their magic dispels as I take the sword in my hands and dart toward them.

Gadriel’s eyes widen as I leap forward with his longsword, landing in the scythe’s path and stopping the incoming attack on him.

I twist the scythe away in one swift move with the sword, enjoying the power and ease of the elven blade between my fingers.

Slashing forward and through the scythe, I break its metal in half. And before the man can retaliate, I move first, gripping the longsword tighter in my hands before slicing it swiftly across his neck.

His head falls to the ground, tumbling along the forest floor as his body drops limply behind it.

My eyes widen in surprise as I stare down at the sword.

It slid through him with more ease than even my black blades would have.

The longsword’s elven metal glistens back at me, the feel of its hilt between my fingers almost as comfortable to me as my own black blades.

“Micai ... that ...” A shaky breath leaves Gadriel’s lips as I turn toward him, a look of shock taking over his features as his gaze flits between the longsword and my eyes.

He said it was a family heirloom. Is he upset that I used it without asking? Or is he shocked at what just happened?

I slowly hand it back to him as the expression on his face softens, his eyes never leaving mine. “Avian— this sword —is only able to be held by?—”

His words cut off, his eyes widening in fear behind me as pain sears through my upper back.

I hear a familiar voice laughing and something falling to the ground below me before the laughter quickly moves further away.

Gadriel leaps forward as my legs give way with the pain, catching me as I sink toward the forest floor.

“Micai!” His eyes are frantic as he drops his precious family heirloom to the ground while helping me.

My mouth opens, no words forming as his hands wrap around me, one cradling me against him as the other falls to the site of pain on my back.

My breathing suddenly becomes choppy, a strange feeling slithering through my body as my vision begins to blur.

“Micai ... stay with me ... Micai ...” Gadriel’s voice becomes more and more jumbled as I feel a strange numbness creep into my limbs.

I open my mouth, trying to muster some words to tell him, but before I can get them out, a loud explosion rings off from the area near the barrier. A bright blue static soon follows, and begins to grow larger and larger, until it finally tears through the area, quickly heading our way.

Gadriel wraps himself over me, his body covering every inch of me that he can as a loud ringing sound takes over my ears, blocking everything else out as the blast consumes us.

The pain in my back intensifies as I feel the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My vision blurs, my mind drifting and body falling completely cold before darkness takes me fully.

The last sound I hear is the slow thump of a heartbeat, growing slower and slower ... before stopping completely.