A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

A muffled shout spun me around in time to see something grab the Hunter by the legs, dragging it into the ground.

I staggered back, staring at where the Hunter had disappeared into the disturbed gray soil. What had just happened? What in the—?

Chunks of gray exploded from the ground, showering the air. Several streaming geysers all at once, spewing dirt and grass. I threw up a hand as tiny rocks pelted my cheeks. Just as I lowered my arm, another section of the ground erupted, directly in front of me.

And what launched out of that hole would fuel nightmares to last a lifetime.

Jumping back, I stared at what definitely wasn’t a Hunter. It looked like it had been mortal once as it crouched on the edge of the jagged fissure, staring up at me. Had been being the keywords. Its skin was washed-out, a chalky gray color except for the dark, almost-black smudges under its eyes. The cheeks were sunken, its lips bleached of all color. The once-white robes it wore were dusty and ragged, torn and hanging off bony shoulders and hips, revealing patches of bloodless skin underneath.

Was this a Shade?

If so, Davina and Ash had failed to mention that they were in the godsdamn ground.

Carefully backing up, I tightened my grip on the dagger as more of these things appeared, climbing out of the ground so unbelievably fast. Too fast for something that looked really, really dead. I saw four of them, and they all were crouched, staring up at me as their nostrils flared. They…sniffed the air. A low, guttural moan came from one of them. My gaze shifted as I continued putting more space between us. It was a woman. Patches of dark, stringy hair hung from her skull. She rose.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned, and the woman stopped. My heart thumped heavily. If these were Shades, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to kill them. No one had mentioned what wrangling them up actually entailed.

She stared at me—all of them stared at me, no longer smelling the air. The grating, raspy sound came again from another, increasing into a high-pitched whine. Tiny bumps rose all over my skin. It sounded…hungry.

Her mouth dropped open, lips peeling back over fangs. No one had mentioned fangs either when they’d said that the Shades could be bitey. Why in the hell did they have fangs? Why had Andreia developed them in death? Did that happen to godlings?

And why in the whole wide world of fucks was I even thinking about any of that right now?

The moaning sound ended in a hiss, and that was right about the time I decided that this was not a fight I wanted to be involved in. I started to turn, only realizing then how far from the palace I’d traveled.

Ash would be angry.

But that wasn’t my most immediate problem or concern. The creature charged forward, hands curled like claws, mouth stretched wide.

There was no time to run.

Stepping into her attack, I thrust the dagger into her chest. The recessed area gave way to the blade, and a dark, shimmery red substance that smelled of rot and decay splashed my hand. Blood. It was shimmering blood. Her legs crumpled. I gasped under the sudden dead weight of her body. Unprepared, I almost went down with her, barely managing to yank the blade free and keep my footing. She remained where she’d fallen, legs twisted under her body, mouth hanging open and eyes fixed upon nothing. I waited, but she didn’t break apart into dust like the Hunters.

My head jerked up as another hissed, and my blood turned to ice. Four more of these things had appeared among the trees, coming from openings in the ground I hadn’t even realized were there.

Ash would be very, very angry.

One ran forward, fangs bared as it swiped at me. I ducked under its arm and kicked out, catching it in the leg. A bone cracked, turning my stomach. I hadn’t kicked that hard, but the lower part of the leg was broken, and it still came at me, dragging the misshapen leg behind it. I shot forward, shoving the dagger deep into its chest. The creature started to fall—

Weight crashed into me, taking me to the ground. I twisted onto my back. A ghastly face appeared inches above mine, fangs snapping. I slammed a hand into its chest, holding it off. I yanked on the dagger, a scream of frustration building in my throat when it didn’t give.

Oh, gods, it was stuck in the creature that had fallen.

I pulled as hard as I could, my arm trembling under the pressure of the thing as it continued biting at the air. I knew if those fangs got anywhere near my skin, they’d tear my flesh open. Panic began seeping in as I wiggled, managing to get a leg under the creature. I shoved my knee into its midsection, lessening some of its weight on my arm. The dagger slid an inch. I tugged harder—