Hurricane: Phantom Queen Book 9 - A Temple Verse Series (The Phantom Queen Diaries) by Shayne Silvers & Cameron O'Connell

Author:Shayne Silvers & Cameron O'Connell [Silvers, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Argento Publishing
Published: 2020-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

29

Night descended like a lover to hold me in its dark embrace, welcoming me the way only a moonless evening could. Frigid, biting air nibbled at my exposed skin, so cold I knew with grim certainty it would kill any mortal who dared linger outside, bereft of the comfort and security of a fire. I, however, registered the sensation only dimly—no more concerning than standing in front of an open refrigerator door. But then, no chill would ever bother me.

No chill would dare.

“Quinn? Quinn, they’re coming! We have to run!”

I turned to face the speaker, surprised to find a young mortal at my side. I took a moment to admire the sight of him, to peer into the pinkish flames that blazed white hot within his breast. He pined for someone, that much I knew for certain. But it seemed that his affections had turned bitter. I could taste it on the back of my tongue—his hate. Still, there was no darkness to it, no malevolence; he did not mourn his fate. If anything the mortal thrived, his turbulent emotions fueling his every thought and deed the way they so often loosened a poet’s tongue or provoked a painter’s brush. It was alluring, that heat. I wanted to huddle around it, to cradle it in my hands and hold it close enough to kiss.

“Run?” I echoed, amused by the sentiment. “And just what would we be runnin’ from?”

The youth flung out his hand, gesticulating towards the base of the hill upon which we stood as though exposing some great and terrible evil. I followed the line of the boy’s outstretched arm only to find his concern at least partially warranted; the creatures marching up the slope brandished rusty blades coated in hoarfrost, their intentions questionable at best. More concerning, of course, was their complete and total lack of fire; beyond their anthropomorphic shape, there was nothing to suggest they were alive at all. Indeed, despite my superior night vision they appeared to me like gaping wounds against the moonless backdrop, their features dark and barely distinguishable, their bodies animated by some inelegant, alien power I’d never seen before. To be honest, I found them utterly repulsive.

But not particularly frightening.

“What are they?” I asked, craning my neck for a better view, curious despite the promise of violence they represented.

“They’re about to carve out our hearts and use them to start a snowball fight if we don’t get moving, that’s what they are!” The boy reached for me, snatching at the sleeve of my black leather jacket with genuine concern in his eyes. I let him take hold of me, let him drag me away. His blatant distress was...endearing.

“Such a way with words,” I teased as he pulled us towards the light of a distant, glowing city. “Ye sure ye don’t want to stop and write that down, Mr. Shakespeare?”

“Damnit, Quinn, that’s Captain Shakespeare to you! I can’t believe you talked me into this. Now let’s go!

“D’ye know why I enjoy mortals so much?” I asked with a chuckle.

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