Page 32 of Samhain Savior

When the sametap tapcame again, there could be no doubt. Someone was at my window.

And I was completely defenseless.

When Archer had taken my satchel and backpack, he’d also taken every single one of my hex bags, my smudge sticks, my crystals, and the last of my phosphorous bombs. The only things in my possession were my dress and my cloak, the latter of which currently hung over the foot of the bed, not that it mattered. Cloak or no, I was utterly useless without my things.

Cursing Archer for leaving me to die, I did the only thing left that I could think of; I closed my eyes, reaching in toward the seemingly endless void that lived in my soul and searched for the magic Heidi had spent her life attempting—and failing—to teach me to use.

As I looked, my senses turning inward in a familiar exercise that was supposed to calm and center me, I was more than a little shocked to find the hole had changed. It wasn’t gone, really, but it was smaller. Less of a canyon gaping inside me and more of a ravine, still deep, but not nearly as wide. Daring to bring my mind a little closer to the edge, I eased forward, trying to get a feel for this new, smaller void so that I could navigate it before whatever was at the window decided to help themselves to my bedroom.

As I worked, my inner self creeping closer and closer, I realized that, in actuality, the hole was still the same daunting size as before.

But it had been almost completelyfilled.

Filled withshadows.

And across that altered expanse, I could almost feel…something.

For a moment, my magic appeared closer than ever, and I had no doubt that it was the shadows that had made it happen.

The realization turned my blood to ice, my skin prickling and my fingers going numb. Gasping, I sat straight up in bed, my concentration shattering and my sense of the hole vanishing into the night.

My heart raced and the collar at my throat practically buzzed with what felt like anticipation.

What did that mean? How did those shadows manage to getinsideme?

I shuddered, but couldn’t tell if it was due to revulsion or excitement.

The collar fluttered like a butterfly, the whisper-soft touches dancing around my neck joyously, and a shocking thought began to form in the back of my mind.

Had Archer’s collar somehow infiltratedinsideme? Did that mean there was demon magic in me at that very moment?

The thought terrified me in ways I couldn't even begin to process. What did this mean for who I was? For my magic? Was I still fully human, or had Archer's shadows changed something fundamental about my very nature? And the most terrifying question of all—did I even want them gone?

The implications of that were almost too much to contemplate. Because if Archer's shadows were inside me, filling the void where my magic should be, then what did that make me? Was I still myself, or was I becoming something else entirely? Something that belonged to him? The collar around my throat suddenly felt less like a restraint and more like a claim—a mark of ownership that went deeper than I'd ever imagined possible.

I would have probably sat on that bed, my thoughts spiraling into a very much deserved breakdown if not for another round of incessant tapping.

Finally turning to the window, I noticed a very large, very black raven perched on the sill, staring at me with fathomless eyes.

Crawling out from under the covers, I slid my feet into the boots I’d left by the bedside and made my way overthere, debating trying once again to find my magic in the face of this new shadow situation inside me.

“Hello?” I said, not wanting to frighten it away, my curiosity getting the better of me. “You’re very big to be living in this crowded city.” When the raven continued to stare, I stepped closer again, resting my hand on the glass that separated us. When the bird still didn’t fly away, I asked, “Do you need some help, my friend?”

The bird tilted its head one way, and then the other, the intense black eyes never leaving mine, and that was when I knew.

“Mal?”

The raven let out a deep, resonating croak in response.

Unlatching the window, I lifted the sash, then stepped back as the large bird flapped its way inside, landing on the rug in the center of the room.

In no time at all, the shift started, the raven’s body stretching and growing as the bird disappeared and the man took its place.

Glossy black feathers receded, becoming the long strands of hair that hung across Mal’s face. The black scales and talons that made up the bird’s feet thinned and faded until only the soft, pale skin of his legs remained. His body, tall and lean, morphed and changed into the man I’d come to recognize.

In the blink of an eye, the raven was gone and Mal stood before me.

A very naked Mal.