The Shadows by L. A. Banks

Author:L. A. Banks
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780312949150
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

She’d waited for this opportunity—for Sebastian’s fear of Lilith and his venomous jealousy of Fallon Nuit to make him desperate for a win. He’d even made a deal with the Dark Lord, and amazingly returned whole with his conjuring arm intact. Such desperation in a man besieged by fear and guilt and hatred was bound to make him sloppy. But that he was the more adept necromancer was something she could use to her advantage. He hadn’t even noticed the invasion to his spell chambers; he’d been too preoccupied with obtaining results and keeping his groveling carcass alive. Sycophant. And the gall that he’d made her wait . . . refused to waste his restored powers on healing her before doing Lilith’s bidding. For that injustice, he’d surely pay.

Elizabeth held her charred hands firmly clasped together, only glimpsing her faithful sorceress, Dorka, from the corner of her eye. Luring Sebastian to the depths of the Hungarian forest had been mere child’s play. His ego would allow him to believe that now that she was so badly burned, he could play Dark Lord and master over her . . . that she would remain an emotional cripple—her beauty in ruins and grateful for his attentions until he got around to making her lovely again.

She watched him arrogantly promenade around the clearing, preparing to raise any beast or demon that had not died by a Neteru blade. The haughty glee practically resonated off his sallow skin. Rage gnawed at her insides as he waved his arms and pranced along the vectors of the bloody pentagram he’d drawn with human blood under the blue wash of the full moon.

Oh, yes, he was in his element . . . she seethed as he craned his long fingers until they’d become talons, calling up the unholy legions that had been vanquished by mortal men. The display was theatric, all hellfire and brimstone, drawing forth swirling winds that lashed their faces and billowed his council robes in an attempt to demonstrate prowess that he never owned.

But she waited, patiently, for the lines drawn in blood around the butchered goat’s head to begin to bubble. She waited until the dead human female carcass began to blister with maggots. She waited until black blood sweat ran down Sebastian’s gaunt face and he closed his eyes, shouting the last necromancer command for the dead to arise—and that’s when she did it.

A black charge left her hands as Dorka jettisoned the skull of Vlad the Impaler with his burial ashes into the center of the ceremonial perimeter. Slashing at her wrists, Elizabeth added her council-level blood to the offering, along with all of her hatred and the black magic she’d collected throughout the realms. The words she shouted scorched her throat till she sputtered black blood. Her hair was on fire, her robes engulfed in blue-black flames. Searing pain ripped a shriek from her, but she held out her arms, calling forth the greatest vampire that had ever existed.

Screeching and twisting, the lesser shadows that had already risen drew away to the woods for safety.

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