Blessed Monsters (Something Dark and Holy #3) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,103

across each other and magic flared, bursting out in a strange, acrid mess that splashed onto the Vulture, searing into the light armor it wore. The smell of burning flesh met her nostrils. She tried her hardest to tune out the screams, turning on another Vulture.

There were … a lot of them. Too many, and Serefin and Ostyia had no blood magic. The Vultures weren’t using magic either, not like when Nadya had fought them in the past. They were relying on teeth and claws and some power that seemed to thread in between, whatever it was that had been tortured into them. Her back pressed against Serefin’s as the Vultures knocked her into him.

“I’m going to be so put out if I die in Komyazalov,” Serefin said.

Before Nadya could respond something tore through the lines that were threatening to overwhelm them. There were two, neither wearing masks. Nadya recognized Żywia, but it took longer for her brain to put together who the second was.

Żaneta.

Serefin stared at her, narrowly avoiding death by impalement.

She looked so much better than when Nadya had seen her last. A monster, but not shattered. She shot them a sharp-toothed smile, winked at Serefin, then turned on the other Vultures.

“What’s happening?” Serefin asked.

“Your old girlfriend is saving you.”

“That bodes badly for me, I think,” he said, sounding dazed.

Nadya snorted softly, shoving him toward a Vulture who was distracted by Żaneta.

It wasn’t quick work. It was messy and bloody. There were more Vultures than Nadya thought were in the order, and they didn’t have the magic that let them shift through physical blows. Hitting a Vulture in the throat with a voryen knocked them down like it would any mortal.

Nadya didn’t think any Vultures were dead, but their crumpled bodies soon littered the ground. There was a moment of silence, a fleeting calm. Żywia turned to grin at Nadya, her white teeth like knives.

“I told them not to, but no one listens to me! The Black Vulture’s Hand, still, but no one listens!” she said. Her tangles of black hair were tied back and coated with blood. Her onyx eyes slowly shifted to blue. She let out a breath, kneeling down next to an unconscious Vulture and checking their pulse. “Idiots. If Malachiasz were alive—”

“He is,” Serefin said shortly.

Żywia’s head shot up.

“How did you not know?” Serefin asked. “I thought you were connected?”

“That bastard,” Żywia snapped, straightening. “I’m going to kill him. Is he here? He shut off the connection himself, then.”

“No, he did die,” Serefin said. “He said the threads were too weak when he came back.”

Żywia shook her head in disbelief. “Liar. He didn’t want us to know.”

“He’s not here,” Serefin said. “But we have other problems to worry about.”

“What about the god?” Nadya asked.

Żywia frowned. “What? No, the Vultures came for him.” She nodded at Serefin.

Oh gods, she really didn’t know.

“Cvjetko, he’s here, somewhere.”

“You can’t fight a god,” Serefin began, stopping when Nadya stared at him. “Listen.”

“Serefin, really.”

He was avoiding making eye contact with Żaneta, who appeared like she could be convinced quite easily into strangling him. Her wiry cloud of dark curls was limp and heavy with blood. She stepped closer. He tensed.

“Czijow,” he said, very, very quietly.

Żaneta clasped his head between her hands. “Bloody idiot, that’s what you are.”

“Yes.”

She tilted his head back, wincing at the scar that ran along his throat. “I did that?”

“You shoved me down the stairs, actually, and then my throat was slit.”

“I guess you got your revenge.”

Serefin sighed. “That was not my choice, Żaneta.”

“Too late for apologies,” she said, but she tugged him closer and kissed his forehead. Her nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

“I am covered in blood, why would you do that?”

“Ugh.” She wiped at her mouth. “Nasty.”

“I’m glad you’re you again,” he said softly. “I am sorry.”

“This is wildly sentimental,” Żywia interrupted. “Very cute.”

Nadya turned to her. She pointed blankly to the road, which wound down over the vast bridge to the city beyond where a massive beast rampaged. A god in the flesh. She put her hand on Żywia’s arm when she started to move.

“You should get out of here. There are Voldah Gorovni around.”

Żywia shot her a grin. “And miss all the fun? Hardly.”

33

MALACHIASZ CZECHOWICZ

Every head of Cvjetko is at odds with the other.

—The Books of Innokentiy

Chyrnog held Malachiasz in a grip so tight it felt as if his ribs were being crushed. He wanted to close his eyes. But instead he was forced to quietly wait as the village stirred, as the torches burning