Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,115
somehow floating in midair. “Kira, get out of here.”
“You should be more concerned about yourself.” Eyes of pure flame examined Ryon as if he were a slice of steak. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
Zamara lifted a hand toward Ryon, and his scream wrenched Kira’s heart. She stumbled back as he writhed, suspended in agony. A silver mist seeped from his skin and flowed to Zamara’s open palm.
Kira’s trembling hand reached for her d’hakka blade. She wouldn’t leave him to die. Couldn’t.
She withdrew the stinger from its sheath. They’d die together.
Zamara’s other hand lashed out behind her, palm outward as if she were telling someone to stop. A figure shimmered into existence not a foot from her back. Lysander stood frozen in mid-stride, rearing back with a short sword aimed at Zamara’s heart. He teetered there like a sweating, blinking statue.
The trai’yeth clicked her tongue. “You’d kill your own mother?”
Zamara’s fingers curled and her wrist turned, and a constricted gurgle stuttered from Lysander’s lips. Blood trickled, then spilled down his chin. His maroon eyes widened and flickered.
She’s controlling the syn inside them! But Kira didn’t have a whisper of Phoeran heritage. Maybe she had a chance.
Kira sprinted toward Zamara as she toyed with her prey, coaxing a silver stream from Lysander as well. Ryon pleaded for his cousin’s life as Kira raised the stinger and plunged it into Zamara’s chest.
The porcelain face flinched, but otherwise, Zamara didn’t move. The flow of surreal mist stopped, Ryon gasped, and Lysander collapsed. Zamara looked down at Kira as if she were a fly on an otherwise perfect dress.
Kira twisted her blade in Zamara’s ribcage.
Zamara grimaced and placed a hand on Kira’s shoulder. Her touch was like magma, searing through Kira’s clothes in an instant. Zamara shoved, and Kira stumbled back and crashed to the platform.
The pain was so intense that Kira forgot to cry out. Vaguely, she was aware that her clothing around the elemental’s touch had caught fire. She slapped at it until it snuffed out.
“Oh, chickadee,” Zamara said with elongated spite. She pulled the d’hakka blade from her chest and let it clatter to the platform. Silver blood smeared the blue chitin up to the makeshift hilt. “You missed.”
The flawless skin closed, healing the queen’s fatal wound in a matter of seconds. A moment later, the dress reformed as well, complete with lace that shimmered in the firelight.
Terror lanced down Kira’s spine like lightning, but bloodlust surged inside her and drowned her fear. If she’d missed something, then there must be a bull’s-eye.
Twin silver orbs congealed from the mist: one in front of Ryon and one above Lysander. Zamara popped them in her mouth as if they were candy and smiled as though they were her favorite flavor. She strode toward Kira.
Ryon coughed and struggled in midair as if the smoke itself held him there. “Stop!”
Kira scrambled back. A wall of flame sprang to life behind her, blocking her path.
Her eyes darted to her d’hakka stinger, which lay on the ground behind Zamara. Kira patted her thigh, feeling for her throwing knife sheath. One left.
Zamara reached down and grabbed Kira by the throat. Her fingers clamped like a vice, and Kira gasped and clawed at them.
“No!” Ryon roared.
“Don’t be jealous, buck. I’m not done with you.” Zamara’s grip tightened and lifted. Kira opened her mouth, but no air made it into her lungs. How is she so strong?
“I only spared a trespassing muddy like you because you wanted to save one of my people,” Zamara murmured. “But the Malo element is no longer welcome on my lands. Your blood smells like swill.”
Kira snatched her last throwing knife and plunged it through Zamara’s forearm.
The elemental hissed, and her grip on Kira’s neck seared like the surface of the sun. Kira’s vision blurred and a cry clawed out of her throat.
“Let her live, and I’ll marry your daughter!” she heard Ryon say. “I’ll do whatever you want!”
A smile flitted across Zamara’s scarlet lips. “You aren’t even worthy to be a sacrifice.” She released her grip and Kira crumpled to the platform, gulping in the thick smoke. The skin of her neck boiled, then numbed.
Zamara turned back to Ryon. “That was very sweet, but you’ve lost your chance. I don’t want you anymore.” She raised a hand toward him, and he arched his back and screamed.
Someone . . .
Kira couldn’t lift herself from the platform. She couldn’t catch her breath. Black smoke surrounded her. Swallowed her. Seared her from the inside out.
Someone, help.
Silver streams