Inferno of Darkness by Rowe Stephanie

Author:Rowe, Stephanie [Rowe, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Demons & Devils, Psychics, Witches & Wizards, Paranormal, Romance, Fantasy, Ghosts, Angels, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 098865668X
Published: 2013-12-02T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The afternoon sunlight stretched long, too long. Time was running out as Dante moved quickly, setting up the rocks in formation with such swiftness and perfection that Elisha suspected he had done it many times before. He was building a pentagram, carved in the earth, the corners each anchored by a sharp rock in the shape of an arrowhead. Dante had explained it was how he needed to call Rohan, but with each passing moment, she became more anxious. What if Rohan killed her? What if he couldn’t help? They were running out of time.

With each rock Dante set in place, the air grew thicker and heavier, tainted by darkness that Elisha was all too familiar with, making her restless. She could feel the power of the sword growing, summoning Dante, and she could feel the effort he was expending not to grab it. She glanced at the nearby mountain, and saw a puff of black and purple steam plume from the top, cascading down the rocky sides as if the smoke was heavier than the air itself, as if it were carrying debris and dragging it down onto the surface. She shivered as she watched it. The mountain was coming alive, sensing the impending severing of the veil. The situation was unfolding with pre-fated precision.

She touched Dante's arm. "The barrier to the nether-realm is thinning," she told him. "I can feel it coming through." Not just the nether-realm, but taint from the queen's darkness. She shivered, unable to keep herself from looking around, half expecting the creatures of the night to start emerging from the shadows.

"I know." Dante stood back and called out his spear with a crack and a flash of black light. He dragged the tip across his palm, carving a thick gash in his hand. "I need your blood, too."

"Mine?" Elisha shook her head, knowing all too well the cost of allowing someone to control her through her blood. "No, I can't—"

"If Rohan's going to see for both of us, we need to build a conduit for both of us." He held out his hand. "Come."

She stared at him. "Isn't the blood bond one of the stages of the sheva bond? What if we accidentally—"

"It won't matter. We're both protected." He nodded at the runes still burned into his flesh.

Elisha glanced nervously toward the pool where the sword was resting. The water had started boiling an hour ago, and she knew it would not be long before it claimed Dante. In her pocket lay the Blade of Cormoranth…but even as she thought it, she looked at Dante, at his dark eyes, at his strong stance. He was a warrior of such honor. Was there really a chance she could kill him?

No, no, there was not. Was he strong enough to destroy the sword? No one was, but at the same time, Dante gave her hope. There was so much honor in him, so much goodness...but if he did it, she would die. And as she

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