Our Lonesome Nights Together by O. S. Smith

Author:O. S. Smith [Smith, O. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

As quickly as it first flared up, the fire dissipates. Maeve raises a single eyebrow, looking slightly surprised.

Nastiya stands in the center of a circle of blackened earth. Her clothes are singed, and her hair is a wild mess streaked with ash. Her face is twisted into a cruel, ecstatic smile.

“That… that was not bad. You actually know what you’re doing. Good.”

Nastiya tugs off her gloves. She throws out her hands, palms extended. And I finally get to see what she was hiding

God, I wish I didn’t.

A single yellow, staring eye pulses like a tumor in the center of both of her hands. They’re both weeping puss, and little tentacle lashes write around each one. I have to look away. Those nice pancakes that Sophia made me come up in a sudden rush of throat-burning puke.

Ugh.

Maeve’s mouth draws into a tight line, but she doesn’t flinch away. She pulls out a second spell.

Nastiya is faster. She barks something in a language I can’t even begin to understand. It definitely isn’t Russian. It sounds something like “Shhhhheeexxxx gggguuuuuugggggllllluuuu!” but way worse.

The spell paper rots instantly in Maeve’s hands, and she gasps in pain. She clutches her hands together, but not before I can see black veins starting to creep up from the edge of her fingers, spreading along her arms.

Nastiya cackles. “Does it hurt? Does their blessing wound you, false witch?”

“Ugh, why are you all such drama queens?” Brianna spits. She pounces out from behind Maeve, her hands twisted into claws and slashing towards Nastiya’s neck.

One of Nastiya’s blindfolded vampires leaps forward to intercept her. He and Brianna clash in midair. Claws meet claws, and Brianna snarls as she tries to throw this new opponent off of her. Her claws rip wounds in the blindfolded vampire’s chest, but he doesn’t seem to feel them. He fights silently, following Brianna’s movements despite the rag hiding his eyes.

“Keep Stroude busy. She’s not worth my time,” Nastiya says. Her attention is entirely on Maeve.

The black scars have spread further up Maeve’s hands now. But if it still hurts her, she’s not showing it. Between two fingers, she unrolls a fresh spell, written on a slip of paper the size of a Fortune Cookie fortune.

“Terra media.”

The scorched ground beneath Nastiya suddenly bubbles and froths, melting instantly into a thick, oily mud. Nastiya sinks up to her waist with a gross shplop! noise. She just laughs.

“Elemental trickery? If that’s all you can conjure, then…”

Nastiya’s hands are still free. She extends the awful, eldritch eyes on her palms towards Maeve. The eye flashes bright yellow, drenching Maeve in its light. Maeve falls to her knees without a word, her scarred hands clutching her head.

Fuck.

Sophia is standing half-frozen, watching the chaos of the battle unfold. Her face is pale; the eldritch display is probably too much even for her. She snaps to her senses and jumps in front of me, arms protectively spread. I’m barely on my feet now, still woozy and sick from just watching Nastiya work her magic.

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