Page 69 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)
Sol struggled to move, but she was pinned to the spot, cursed to watch as her mother brought her sword up in front of her. “Come and get it, then.” They lunged.
The one in the front flew first, directly at Irene in the blink of an eye. It clawed at her, but she efficiently deflected its talons with a sweep of her blade. The creature groaned in pain, the Ward around the blade clearly wounding it. Again, it pounced.
Irene jumped, stomping down on its arm, and with a bellow of fury, slammed her blade straight into the creature’s skull. Black blood poured from it, making the gray floors even darker.
“Why even come after her?” her mother heaved. “She has no magic.”
The orange monster laughed, a sound that made every inch of Sol recoil. “Did you really think you’d be able to fool everyone, Irene? Do you really think the King Regent doesn’t know where you are?”
“Is that who sent you? Arnold?”
The creature cocked its head, flashing a smile full of razor-sharp teeth Sol saw too often in her nightmares. “Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps someone else is out for your disgusting family’s demise,” one of the other creatures snarled.
It didn’t give Irene a chance to respond as it lunged at her, teeth clacking and jaws snapping closed around her ankle.
Sol screamed, the sound echoing her mother’s. Absolute rage flashed over her mother’s face as she brought her sword down on the demon’s neck, decapitating it before kicking off its head from her leg. Her wound had already begun to bleed.
The orange Mind Slayer inhaled deeply, its eyes strobing. “Delicious.”
“Your blood has always been the sweetest, Irene.” The final blue creature stumbled forward in a serpentine motion, its forked tongue tasting the air.
“Who sent you?” Irene’s voice was low, commanding, a tone Sol had never heard her use.
“You have a lot of enemies,” the creature said, angling its head an unnatural ninety degrees to the right. “Which one sent us, I wonder?”
Irene feigned a maneuver to the right, then slashed down left, cutting the creature’s skull clean in half.
She shook her head. “Those things were pathetic, Lorkin, even for you.”
The thing, Lorkin, rose to its hind limbs, once again a tower in front of Irene. “They weren’t supposed to pose a threat, Irene Yarrow Gresnyn.”
Instantly, the blood pooling around Irene’s ankle shimmered and evaporated, dissipating into crimson droplets. She winced.
“Warren does always demand more of you, doesn’t he?”
Lorkin strode forward, its giant clawed feet screeching against the floors. Sol felt her breath quicken, and she couldn’t ease the shivering that began at her head and spread down to her feet.
She didn’t want to see this.
She knew how it ended.
Yet, her eyes were glued to the scene, as if hands themselves were holding them open. She shuddered.
“No worries. There will be more by the end of this.” Lorkin’s eyes flashed. “But your Gods don’t want blood from dead Wielders, huh?”
Irene yelled and thrust her blade forward, but Lorkin effortlessly evaded with a cold, sinister laugh.
Sol had never seen her mother fight, but she made her own skills look like child’s play. Irene slashed and parried expertly, fluidly, as if the sword was a mere extension of her arm. The rainbow of sparks shone around them, and where they hit the creature, its skin bubbled.
“You’ll never Awaken her magic. You’ll never get what you want,” she breathed through hits, landing a slash on Lorkin’s legs.
The thing pulled its leg closer to itself, dragging Irene with it. “Who says we don’t already know how?” It smiled, its teeth shining in the dimness.
There were noises beyond the front door, a rustling of trees and leaves that made Irene glance behind her.
The glance cost her.
Sol screamed with pure sorrow and terror as Lorkin plunged its hand into her mother’s chest. Blood sprayed everywhere, and Irene’s face contoured with pain.
“Mom!” Sol cried, trying with everything in her soul to run to her, to fight for her, to do anything other than stare.
But she couldn’t.
“She’s going to destroy you,” Irene said through tight lips, her breathing labored.
Lorkin scoffed. “If she is as pathetic as you, Irene Yarrow, your daughter will be just as easy to kill in due time.”
There was a knock at the front door, frantic and familiar.
Sol screamed even louder at the people she knew would be beyond the door. At the fact she now knew those knocks, the sound of them coming, had distracted her mother.
Irene laughed, spitting in Lorkin’s face. “The secrets die with me. I let you win, fucker.”
Lorkin removed its claws from Irene, her heart, beating and broken, in its hands. Sol felt tears rush out, her face hot, and her lungs refusing to work. She cried even harder when her Mother’s body fell from the air, landing in the foyer. Broken, bleeding. Heartless.
Sol watched in horror as Lorkin held up her mother’s heart, licked it, then swallowed it whole before hovering over her body. The knocks became frantic. Then, turned to pounding as the people beyond tried to break the door down.
“Yarrow blood has always been the most delicious,” it sneered before sprinting on all fours out the back door, just as Sol and Leo burst through the entrance.