Page 77 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

“Astrid,” Verne snapped. “You belong to me , not this sniveling coward. Come here.”

Ok. That was enough diplomacy.

Fi readied her sword with a snarl, red energy bright against her arms and crackling ozone on her tongue. She wouldn’t stand idle while Verne insulted her. Insulted Antal. Insulted Astrid, after Fi had vowed to protect her. She lurched toward the usurping daeyari—

Astrid moved like the snap of a willow bough.

She snatched Fi’s wrist, twisting the sword from her hand then pinning her arm behind her back. Fi snarled, confusion and outrage throwing her off balance as Astrid pressed an energy dagger to her throat.

Soft lips pressed her ear.

“Trust me,” Astrid whispered.

Fi’s treacherous heart had never stopped trusting her.

But shit, Astrid, this wasn’t the best time for a team building exercise.

Antal pivoted, eyes widening on the blade held to Fi’s neck, a snarl for Astrid that promised splintered bones.

He’d vowed to rip the Arbiter’s spine out piece by piece.

Yet when he stepped closer, Astrid pressed her dagger, hot energy searing Fi’s skin.

Antal froze. Verne grinned.

In that moment, Fi understood the plan.

“Call off your daeyari, Fi.” Astrid spoke with bravado, but Fi felt the trembling hand against her neck. Both of them, thrust into this world of teeth, forced to fight for survival.

“Antal , stay ,” Fi said. Not a plea. An order.

Confusion slashed his brow, a look of distress that crept up on her heart faster than she could counter. He still looked like he’d peel Astrid into pieces. But he came no closer.

Verne cackled.

“Are you so easily tamed, Antal? One whimpering human, and your claws go dull?” She beckoned to Astrid. “Bring her here.”

Astrid walked Fi forward, dagger burning her throat. Antal stayed rooted as if it pained him, as if Fi’s commanding stare could slice out whatever phantom heart dwelled in his chest. How had she earned such trust?

She wouldn’t waste it.

“Perhaps we can still barter,” Verne said as they neared her.

Behind Fi’s back, Astrid twisted Fi’s wrist until her fingers brushed a belt. Then, the hilt of an energy dagger. Who needed two daggers? Astrid, of course.

Fi gripped the weapon.

“Leave, Antal,” Verne said with condescending confidence, a victorious tilt to her grin. “Leave in earnest this time. And maybe I’ll let you keep your pet—”

When Astrid released her, Fi didn’t hesitate.

She lunged at the distracted daeyari, plunging her energy dagger into Verne’s chest, straight into whatever shriveled heart rested within her ribs. Astrid struck next, digging a blade into her Lord Daeyari’s throat. Verne’s snarl came out choking, blood staining her fangs.

A dagger wasn’t enough to sever her neck.

Verne lashed with scarlet claws so fast, Fi barely drew a shield in time.

The blast shoved her backward, red shards striking silviamesh, slicing across her cheeks.

She hit the ground stinging. Too far away, Astrid fell to her knees, burns cut across unarmored arms and hands.

Behind them, Yvette shouted as Mal hunched, clutching his face.

Verne backed away, throat healing, eyes like firebrands on her traitorous Arbiter.

When Antal lunged, she pulled a metal cord from beneath her coat. He snarled as Verne dodged his claw swipe, lashing the cord around his wrist with a flash of binding red energy, a kick sending him to the ground. Then, a glower at her Beast, still crouched on the sidelines.

“Daeyari!” Verne shouted, hoarse through blood. “Ulk! Lemen yzrae!”

The Beast tensed at her command. Minutes ago, Fi had contemplated pity for the creature. But pity returned to horror as he stood to full height, fully healed, teeth bared and red eyes bright at the call of his mistress.

Mal hunched in the snow, injured but breathing.

Kashvi grabbed the crossbow from his hands and aimed at Verne.

Yvette stayed fixed on the Beast, all backing to a defensive huddle.

No one fired, a gamble of which target to hit first, leaving an opening for the other to strike.

This was why they’d planned to face Verne alone.

But it was Astrid who moved, pushing to her feet despite the burns on her arms.

“Navek!” She held up a shaking hand. “Ijen! Wait!”

The Beast’s skeletal head snapped to her.

And hesitated.

A mote of intelligence sparked in the creature’s blank red eyes. He looked to Astrid, the woman who’d touched him with light hands. To Verne, her expression murderous.

“Useless beast!” Verne snarled. “You’re mine! Lemen yzrae!”

“Ijen, Navek,” Astrid urged. “You’re not hers. You don’t have to—”

She shrieked as Verne fell on her, claws sinking into her arms.

“How dare you?” Verne spat at her Arbiter. “You think you can betray me? You think you’re anything to me, just because of those half antlers on your head? I’ll—”

The crack was haunting—a little musical, if Fi was honest. The sound of the Beast’s jaws closing on Verne’s leg, bone snapping beneath teeth. He ripped her sideways, hurling her against the frozen ground with an equally satisfying smack.

Verne pushed to her good knee with a gasp, shock flashing in scarlet eyes as her Beast mantled protective over Astrid, black blood on his teeth.

A sharper shock, when Fi came at her with a sword.

Obviously, Fi had considered helping Antal.

But he was a big boy, fighting furiously to sever the bindings Verne left on his wrists.

Fi grabbed for her sword hilt, ripped it from the snow then ran at Verne, swinging for her head—disappointed, to slice across her chest instead.

The daeyari was fast, even limping on one leg.

A silver energy bolt struck Verne’s side. A second bolt of crimson hit her collarbone. She reeled, concern stark on her face for the first time.

Fi grinned like fury given form.

“You can still yield, Verne!” Antal shouted from his crouch in the snow, such a soft-hearted creature, even as Fi charged like a feral mongoose.

“Yield to you ?” Verne spat. She stumbled, avoiding Fi’s sword with a hasty shield of energy. “You don’t deserve this territory! You—”

She snarled as another crossbow bolt hit her arm. Immortal or not, Verne was injured, outnumbered.

Cornered animals were always the most dangerous.

She vanished before Fi’s sword found her throat.

Verne re-appeared next to Antal, a tackle sending them both to the ground, that flurry of claws and tails when daeyari came together.

Verne struck with slashes of searing scarlet across his ribs.

Antal hissed and fought to hold her down, struggling with his wrists still bound.

Kashvi raised her crossbow.

“Don’t hit him !” Fi shouted, batting the weapon aside.

Verne yowled as Antal’s claws raked her side. One last flail of a trapped wildcat. Fi ran to help, scouring for an opening as the two daeyari rolled.

When Verne sank her teeth into Antal’s shoulder, he flinched. A split second for Verne to plant her foot. To grab him tight against her.

They vanished together.

Fi blinked at the empty space, marked by trampled snow and black blood. She waited for them to reappear. She waited for the prick of static on her tongue, the sounds of snarling daeyari.

Nothing came.

Kashvi spun her crossbow around the clearing, past Yvette crouched at Mal’s side, past the Beast still growling over an injured Astrid. “Where did they…”

“ There ,” Astrid said in a pained rasp, pointing over the trees.

In the distance, a snap of red lit the window of Verne’s chateau.

Fi churned with too much molten rage for her tired, mortal body. That coward. That vile beast of velvet-clad Void sludge. Verne didn’t have to fight an outnumbered battle.

She could pick Antal off alone. Heal her wounds, then hunt down the rest of them.

Antal couldn’t face her alone.

He’d begged Fi not to fight alone, to let him stand with her.

“Shit,” Kashvi hissed. “Grab the nets. We need to move!”

“We can’t run there in time.” Fi’s voice shook. She’d seen how fast daeyari fights played out, how quickly teeth shredded spine.

“Then what do you propose—”

This time, Fi didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her sword and slashed open a Curtain, not bothering to look where it led.

Straight into the Void with open arms.