Page 42 of Soulmarked
“So,” he said, “got a plan?”
“Besides not dying?” I grinned, and it probably looked as manic as it felt. “Shoot it till it stops moving, then figure out how to kill it for real. The classics never go out of style.”
The thing moved like lightning. I barely had time to roll, my body responding with the hard-wired reflexes Hallow had beaten into me over years of brutal training. Claws tore chunks from the rooftop where I'd been crouched, concrete splintering like ice. Cade fired off a shot that would have dropped anything natural, but the creature didn't even flinch as the bullet punched through what should have been vital organs.
“Skye!” I barked into my comm unit, ducking another strike that came close enough for me to feel the air displacement against my cheek. “A little help here!”
“What am I looking at?” Their voice crackled with static interference. “And please tell me that shrieking I'm picking up is just feedback.”
“Humanoid, but joints bend wrong. Moves like liquid shadow, adapts to attacks. And,” I dove behind a ventilation unit as the thing lunged, my knife already tracking to intercept its follow-through, “really feckin' fast!”
There was rapid typing on Skye's end, then: “Shite. You're dealing with a Fetch, old Irish folklore. They're shapeshifters,but not the usual kind. They don't just copy forms, they learn from them. The more they fight, the better they get at...”
“At trying to kill us?” I finished, watching in growing horror as more figures emerged from the church below. Not just one. A dozen of the things, each moving with that same wrong fluidity. “That's just grand. Real feckin' grand. What's next, zombie clowns?”
“Less talking, more killing,” Cade shot back, already moving to flank the nearest creature.
Despite barely knowing each other, despite all my reservations about working with a fed, we fell into sync almost instantly. It was like hunting with Eli again. Cade dodged left, drawing their attention with precise shots, while I wove between the creatures with blade and blessed silver. My combat style, a lethal fusion of Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and street-fighting, flowed from one movement to the next.
But these things weren't just fast, they were adapting to our tactics with terrifying speed.
One feinted before striking, a move I'd used myself moments before. Another ducked under Cade's shot in a way that mimicked his own evasive style. They weren't just monsters anymore, they were learning, evolving, becoming more dangerous with every exchange.
“This is about to go bad,” Cade muttered as we ended up back-to-back, surrounded by things that wore our own moves like stolen clothes.
I gritted my teeth, flipping my knife with a practiced motion that had intimidated countless lesser monsters. The silver blade caught the moonlight as I settled into a combat stance that had served me through encounters with things that would make most people wet themselves.
“Yeah, well, hold onto yer arse. Things are about to get weird.”
Three more Fetches advanced, their movements becoming more synchronized with each passing second. One of them mimicked my knife-flip perfectly, its fingers elongating unnaturally as claws glinted in the dim light. Behind me, Cade fired another shot that should have been fatal, but the creature barely flinched.
“These sons of bitches just won't stay down,” I growled, feeling my back press against Cade's as we were forced closer together.
“If you have any other tricks up your sleeve, now would be the time,” Cade called over his shoulder, his voice steady despite our predicament. “Because bullets aren't exactly winning the day here.”
We were running out of options fast. Conventional weapons were useless, and these things were getting smarter, faster, deadlier with every move we made. I needed something that would actually work, something these freaks wouldn't see coming.
A flare from nearby construction equipment caught my eye, a small, neglected burn barrel workers had left behind, flames dancing low but hungry. Fire. Primal, ancient, purifying.
I hadn't wanted to use magic, hadn't wanted to reveal that particular card so soon. Magic was dangerous, unpredictable, and Eli's death had been proof enough of what happened when you trusted the wrong powers. But these weren't normal circumstances, and I was running out of options.
“Screw it,” I muttered under my breath. “Not like we have a lot of options here.”
“What are you planning?” Cade asked, noticing my shift in stance. His eyes flickered to my hands as I began to move them differently. “Sean, what are you doing?”
My gaze darted between the approaching Fetches and the flickering flames. Fire spells were risky in urban environments,but they'd work faster than shadow bindings. And right now, speed was what we needed. These things were learning our tactics too quickly. We needed something they couldn't adapt to, something primordial that would burn through their stolen forms before they could understand what was happening.
My fingers cut through the air in precise movements, tracing a symbol I'd learned in darker times, from an old witch in Belfast who'd charged a price I still wasn't sure had been worth it. The temperature around us shifted instantly, heat rolling off my skin as power gathered. Ancient words rose to my lips, familiar as heartbeats but bitter with old promises.
“Fiáin tine, clois dom!” Wild fire, hear me!
The runes flared to life, and fire erupted at my command. Not normal flame, this was older, hungrier, the kind of fire that remembered when humans first stole it from gods. It engulfed the nearest Fetch in a roaring wave, and its shriek of pain carried notes that human ears weren't meant to process.
Cade whipped around, eyes wide. The firelight revealed something in his gaze, not fear, but recognition.
“You do magic?” he asked, sounding both shocked and irritatingly intrigued.
I barely spared him a glance, maintaining my focus on the burning runes that hovered in the air before me like brands. Each one cost me. Magic always took its payment in blood or worse.
