Page 49 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

The unbridled, unyielding rage that seethed beneath the surface of Lindiwe’s very flesh was scorching. It boiled in her veins, in her muscles, until it clutched her bones. It was so lethal it was like a living, breathing, dangerous aura that pulsated around her.

And as Lindiwe stormed between the beautiful, tall flowery hedges that acted as thorny fences for a pathway, her heart swelled with the way the world reflected her unrest.

Behind the small castle she kept her hateful stare on, lightning cut across the sky in blinding flashes. It crackled and boomed, and the thunder seemed to rumble the very ground, so loud, so deafening, it rang in her ears.

The grey clouds, heavy and angry, kept out the midday sun, making everything bleak. The rain had yet to pour, but she could see the wall of it heading towards her in the distance, sped along by violent winds. It was powerful, and the rush of it exhilarated her down to her very spirit.

Her worn and torn feathered cloak fluttered across her body, pulled tightly around her. A downy plume tickling her cheek slipped loose and flew away, as had many others in the decades it’d been since Lindiwe last heard from Weldir.

Soon... she doubted she’d be able to fly.

Her dirty white dress clung to her torso and limbs, while her bun kept her curls out of her eyes.

Demons intercepted her, trying to bar her entrance to witness this sad and pathetic attempt at being kingly. Jabez didn’t need a castle or a throne; he needed a fucking grave.

She’d help give him one.

Despite how much this would likely impact Weldir’s dwindling magic and fading mist, she made shadowy tentacles form.

Most of her opponents were medium-sized Demons on their way to completion. Half humanoid, half disgusting vermin, they either walked on all fours, slithered on their serpent tails, or squawked on bird legs.

With little thought, she shoved more magic into the tendrils to give them a burst of power. She lifted the Demons and tossed them to the side to clear a path.

The castle doors were closed, the purple shimmering ward in place. Lindiwe scrunched her nose at it and phased through it by turning into a Phantom momentarily.

Jabez greeted her in the foyer with more Demons – those who were more humanoid – surrounding him.

His red eyes were cold as he met her gaze.

His long white hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and it fluttered to the side by some unknown draft.

His white tunic was tucked into loose, flowy, low-crotch burgundy pants, and she noticed a handful of strange black markings that hadn’t been present on his skin the last time she’d seen him.

Or maybe she hadn’t noticed them.

A few of his fingers had black rings, which appeared like tattoos, while one of his forefingers had little arrow markings. There was a pattern peeking through the vee in his tunic – a spiral of runic symbols of Nyl’kira – but she was unable to see what it said.

“Where is she?” Lindiwe demanded, making her stance wide when she stopped. “I believe I have a promise to deliver.”

Her eyes scanned for the infuriating woman, who she’d promised she’d eat the heart of if she interfered in Orpheus’ life.

She was missing, as was Merikh.

Then again, Lindiwe hadn’t expected Merikh to be there, not after what had transpired between him and Jabez. Their ‘friendship’ wasn’t as strong as either of them thought. This silly half-Demon had turned on the bear-skulled Duskwalker not even days after she’d told him the truth of his origins.

And Jabez had to know he was an idiot for doing so.

He’d lost his strongest and deadliest companion, one who had been utterly loyal to him, over something that changed nothing. Her son still hated her – probably Weldir, too – and now roamed Austrális alone to cause havoc.

Merikh wasn’t their ally.

At least he’d no longer be an obstacle.

Jabez folded his arms and rolled his shoulders back in a show of superiority. His sharp fangs, like the outside row of a shark’s mouth, peeked past his full lips when he said, “As if I would let you near her. She’s hidden away.”

Lindiwe lifted her gaze to the tall ceiling before letting it fall to the second level’s railing. She shifted her focus to the right, where there was a hallway beyond a grand staircase.

“That means I will just have to look for her.”

Turning incorporeal, she lunged forward, and the Demons surrounding Jabez snarled and roared as they leapt for her – only to pass through her intangible body.

Lindiwe floated towards the second level. To her right, Jabez jumped over the railing of the staircase and landed halfway up it. By the time she got there, Jabez was already at the top of the stairs and attempting to block her path to the hallway.

She floated through him and headed straight down it, then shoved herself through a wall and landed inside a decently furnished room. By the strange nesting that was happening on top of a single bed, it likely belonged to a Demon who lived with them.

Rather than go back into the hallway, Lindiwe flew herself forward, passing wall after wall as her head turned one way and the other in search of the pretty, black-haired woman.

She stopped when she accidentally floated through the castle’s stone wall and outside, then quickly shunted back so she didn’t start falling.

She went to the other side of the building, past the window at the end of the hallway, its yellow-and-red curtains closed. Then she headed in the other direction, passing rooms in her search.

A door slammed before she could get to the end, and she threw her body to the left through a wall. All she saw was the side of Jabez, who had leapt onto the landing’s railing, and a pair of pale legs. He jumped to the ground level, and Lindiwe went after them.

By the time she reached them, Jabez had fled to the left of the castle’s entrance into some kind of ballroom. A throne, which was hardly more than a sad wooden chair, sat behind them.

The room had decorations, but they all clashed.

Stone sculptures that weren’t well-crafted appeared to have been made by a Demon artisan, considering the demonic depictions in them.

The bust of a sculpture of a horned creature she’d never seen on Earth – likely one from Nyl’theria – sat on top of a stone pillar.

The floor was layered with mismatched red rugs, enough to soften the surface and ease the chill that surely came up through the stone. Wrought-iron chandeliers hung in single file from one end to the other, with eight candles in each, all of which were lit and gave the room decent visibility.

With their curtains pushed open, large windows on one side allowed the lightning to flash intermittently, and it cast its hot light over Jabez and Katerina, who were under a pink, semi-translucent dome. She hid behind his towering form, the woman only coming to his ribs.

A small army of Demon soldiers stood between her and them.

“You think any of this will stop me?” Lindiwe gestured to the ridiculousness of it all. “You are only delaying the inevitable. I will kill that woman.”

“Considering I’m the one who killed Orpheus’ little male companion, shouldn’t I be the one your anger is directed at?” Jabez asked, cocking a white brow.

“Would you have intervened had she not requested it?” Lindiwe eyed the dozen or so red-hued gazes upon her and lifted her upper lip in a sneer.

Jabez didn’t answer, and that was truth enough.

No, he wouldn’t have, and he didn’t even deny it. There was no point in lying. He wouldn’t have fucking cared if not for her.

And why? Why take away the very first companion after over thirty years who had survived the journey to the Veil? Orpheus rarely had constant crimson orbs, but they had lasted long enough to bring her to his side and ask what had happened to make him so annoyed.

Because he’d watched it happen.

Because Jabez had killed that human in front of Orpheus and then left his bleeding corpse for him to eat while he fled!

And what for?! So that Orpheus failed? Was alone? Suffered? Why go to such lengths just to hurt him, when they were an entire forest apart? He was trying his hardest to move past his own hurt after thirty-six years, and Katerina had a new life here.

One where, apparently, she was undying.

The vile woman peeked around Jabez, barely looking a day over thirty, and she’d been around twenty-two, maybe twenty-three, when they’d met. At some point since Lindiwe had last seen her, Jabez had figured out a way to stop her from ageing.

That worried Lindiwe... what else had he learned or discovered? How much of a dangerous threat had he become?

“You know I can move through your wards,” Lindiwe said, eyeing the useless pink barrier separating them.

“But you must turn physical to harm her.” The smirk that grew on his smug face was malicious. “And we both know I’m faster than you. I’ll end you before you touch either of us.”

“I would just come back to life through Weldir and return here.”

Maybe...

She could also end up staying dead, or worse, be stuck in his void while he endlessly slept.

Jabez was right about one thing, and it was unlikely she’d be able to make a killing strike in such a small space. Not without some distraction.

Let’s see how strong his magic is... when it has an entire castle collapsed on top of it!

She turned tangible, and the Demons, most in clothing, lunged. Their strength and speed meant those at the front were at her within a second.

But she only needed the span of a single breath.

Pulling in a vast amount of power from Weldir, a dark ball of hard magic formed between her hands. She yanked her arms apart, and the ball expanded, pushing back the Demons in all directions.

It moulded around Jabez’s ward, his power stronger than hers, and they, under the ward, remained in the centre of the room. The others were flung against the walls or shattered the windows when they were thrown outwards.