Page 43 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Once I’m close, I hide behind a large bush, reaching out with my shadows to feel for his presence. A few minutes into my search, the sound of crunching feet approaches. Quickly, I dissipate into shadows.

His voice breaks the silence as he approaches the house. “I know you’re here. I know you’re out there somewhere. I may not catch you tonight, but I’ll catch you. And when I do, I’ll kill you. Stay away from Mercy, and there won’t be any trouble.”

Power pulses in the air around me as I weigh my two choices—flee for now or take him out and complete my tasks in reverse. I overanalyze the outcomes, measuring each path. All the while, shouting into the darkness.

Eventually, I slip away, stealthy down the dark street toward the market.

Finding the house empty is a better punishment than death.

Let it gnaw away at him. Let it fester until we meet again.

I ignore his screams, but it takes every ounce of my restraint to walk away—leaving me even more unhinged than usual.

All I can think about is his blood dripping down my chin, splashing to the ground as I consume every last drop.

I want to feel the precise moment his soul breaks from his body and descends into Hell.

Instead, I barrel through the rows of shanties and crumbling buildings—something I should’ve done days ago. The cool night air flows through me as I begin my real hunt—for the horde I lied to Lucifer about.

The stench hits me before my shadows sense them.

I’m close. They lead me to the hideout. I stand in the dark empty alley, gripping my dagger, and rolling my shoulders.

This afternoon was practice compared to what I’m about to do.

I imagine the black liquid souls seeping from fresh wounds, and my mouth waters.

Each drop a confession. Each soul a scream I’ll swallow.

I run my tongue across the rows of sharp teeth.

These vagabonds have no idea what’s coming.

Soon. I stroke my finger down the sharp edge of the dagger, watching as it fails to pierce through my skin. The runes glow. This isn’t the entire horde—but for tonight, it will have to do.

I crack my neck, then kick down the door.

Bursting from the shadows, I drive my dagger into the first snatcher’s chest. He drops to the ground.

The others screech and howl—warning the rest. The horde will escape.

For now. I fight and slash through the rotting bodies, black blood spraying.

The dagger pulses with every banishing strike as I plunge the slick blade into the final snatcher, then kick its body to the ground. All twenty—vanquished.

One by one, I collect the black liquid into vials, drinking a portion from each.

I draining their stolen souls until there’s nothing left.

Then I raise my hands. Flames burst from my fingertips, consuming the corpses and the shanty.

The fire crackles behind me as I walk away, power singing in my veins—fueled by revenge.

I return to Mercy’s house, still high from the slaughter.

The shift in power has begun. The Ringmaster grows weaker. I grow stronger.

Standing in the garden at Mercy’s house, shrouded by the night, I stare at the small home. I know what I have to do, but it is a shame the house is going to be burned to the ground. But it’s the only way to hide her father’s body.

Speaking of her father—my eyes dart to the door.

It opens, then closes. Mercy’s father lights his tobacco, leans against the exterior of the house, and starts whistling a tune to himself.

I glare. Torturing him is the ultimate reward for saving Mercy.

I’m going to enjoy every last minute of it.

t He’s going to suffer the way he made Mercy and her mother suffer for years, and I just so happen to be blessed with the pleasure of doling it out.

My menacing chuckle is loud enough to startle him. He stops whistling.

I pick up the tune where he left off and step out from behind the tree. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jacob.”

I grin a terrifying, toothy smile, blood dripping from my razor-sharp teeth as I allow my glamour to drop.

“Welcome home,” I growl.

He says nothing, but I can hear the thudding of his heart as he backs quickly his way through the door, slamming it behind him.

The lock clicks into place—which only makes me laugh harder.

Stupid human. A lock is no match for shadow.

I flash across the garden with unhuman speed, spearing through every crack and crevice before manifesting in the kitchen.

“I said welcome home. You forgot to invite me inside,” I snarl like an untamed beast.

“Are you sacred, Jacob?”

Her father nods his head, eye bulging, body trembling as he stands holding the old axe Mercy and her mother use to chop wood for the fireplace.

“Drop the weapon, Jacob.” He does exactly as I say, and the axe clatters to the ground. “Now, be a good boy and sit.”

He slumps into a kitchen chair, unable to resist my command.

“Very good, Jacob,” I praise with a sinister tone. “Do you know who I am?” I drag the dagger across his neck, watching as the artery pulses beneath the blade.

“I know exactly who you are, circus scum,” he spits. “Where are they? What have you done with them?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I tsk, tossing the blade to my other hand. “They’re far safer under my protections than they ever were with you.”

I trail the dagger down his cheek, slicing lightly just enough to break the skin.

Mercy’s father hisses in pain, but he doesn’t move to stop me. Still a slave to my original command, he’s frozen in place—waiting, obedient, for my next instruction.

I laugh maniacally, reveling in the irony. “Soon I’ll be your master, Jacob. Do you know what I have in store for you?” My voice is menacing as I slice his shirt open and throw him from the chair.

“On your knees, you pathetic excuse for a man. Kneel to your new master,” I hiss, serpent-like, against his ear.

He obeys once again, scrabbling into a kneeling position in front of me.

“Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave town. Anything you want,” he blubbers.

“The problem with that is—I don’t want to.” I nick him with the blade, drawing blood. “You never had to use Mercy to pay your debts, and yet you did. Now you owe me a debt that can never be repaid.”

He whimpers. “She wanted it. She volunteered—“

My restraint slips. I stab him in the shoulder.

I stab him. Not in warning. Not in restraint. In judgment.

He howls in pain. “Don’t fucking lie,” I roar, shadows billowing behind me as my rage unfurls.

“There’s a special place for people like you in Hell. Tell the others I say hi.”

“Why are you doing this?” he gasps.

“Why am I doing this?” My eye twitches with agitation. “You don’t deserve an explanation. I’m doing this because they never deserved any of what you did to them. You should’ve left a long time ago. Mercy and her mother would’ve been better off without your abuse.”

He rolls his eyes and smiles. “You must feel so righteous—avenging all the wrongs I’ve done.”

“Hardly.” I scoff. “But in Hell, you’ll feel every bit of pain they’ve felt. Tenfold—and more.”

He sneers. “I regret nothing. They deserved it. Both of them. Those little whores. But like mother, like daughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I should’ve known she sold herself off to you in hopes of escaping the life I built for her.”

I don’t have the restraint to listen to him speak like this.

I shove the blade deep into his throat, watching the blood gush around the steel.

He gasps and sputters, eyes wide and arms flailing.

I pull the blade out, then slam it into his chest. Inky liquid begins to pool from the wound as he clings to life.

“What are you?” he gargles.

Leaning down by his ear, I whisper, “Only the creatures lurking in the dark know the answer to that.”

I can smell the bits of his soul leaking from his body.

In front of him, I shift and change—removing my full glamour, stretching my inky-black wings wide, unhinging my jaw to reveal the rows of deadly, bloodstained teeth.

My eyes are nothing but black shadow-filled voids.

He tries to scream, but no sound comes out.

When he’s close to death, I clamp down around his head and bite it clean off. I don’t swallow. I spit it out—a consolation prize for Lucifer. Then I clamp down around his open neck and suck every last drop of his soul out, devouring him until there’s nothing left of his life force.

Satisfied, I raise my hands over my head and rain down fire on the entire house, bursting into shadow as I wrap the severed head in my tendrils and shoot into the sky. It doesn’t take long before the entire house is engulfed in flames.

I glance back toward the garden and remember Mercy’s final request. Materializing just enough to wield more magic, I wave my hand over the garden and the small orchard.

They vanish into thin air, and I know that when I reach the manor, I’ll find them intact on the side of the manor.

Because there’s nothing I won’t do for my mate.

I don’t have a soul to give her, so I give this instead—blood-soaked magic and a garden untouched by fire.