His Darkest Salvation (Jaguar Warriors 3)

But it was Jakobi who had her full attention. His dark eyes blazed with anger, and his teeth flashed through the gloom as he smiled at her and shook his head.

She knew in that moment they were not visions. They were very real. Her past had finally caught up with her, and she could no longer run from it.

“It’s time to teach you a lesson.” Her father moved toward her, and the rage that he felt sliced through the air, reaching for her.

It hit her hard, and she knew the end was near. There was no way she could defeat three jaguar warriors.

Jaden loosened her grip on the Glock, her fingers soft on the trigger. They could beat her down, but she’d not give up without a fight. She owed her mother that much.

She owed Julian as well.

She snarled, aimed the gun, and fired.

Chapter 28

The madness that hung in the air fed the black hole inside him. Julian inhaled deeply, welcoming the energy that flowed through him as he and Declan slipped through the shadows.

His nostrils flared. Dark Magick smelled different from any other. It was heavy, sweet, and intoxicating.

Cool flowing air caressed his skin, sliding over his body. It soothed him somewhat, as his skin was hot, his mind chaotic. One thing was constant.

Azaiel. There was nothing else.

The com unit in his ear sparked, and he thought he heard a voice, something soft, feminine, but then it was gone.

“This way,” Declan whispered. “There’s a thread of energy that’s overpowering everything else.” The sorcerer stared up into what appeared to Julian to be nothing more than inky black space, yet Declan smiled and shook his head. “It’s fucking beautiful.”

Julian frowned. “I don’t see anything.”

“I thought you pussycats had night vision.” Declan started forward. “Trust me, it’s this way.”

The two men slid through the shadows, their tall frames splitting the night as mist swept the path in front of them. A gunshot ripped through the air, and Julian stilled. He held his Glock at the ready and unsheathed his dagger.

Declan nodded to the right, and Julian fell in behind him as they made their way forward. He felt a presence watching them, the weight of it heavy on his shoulders. The fine hair along the back of his neck rose, and his animal growled, sensing danger, as the beast began to scratch the surface.

At the last second, he whirled around and snarled ferociously as a face parted from the shadows, followed by two more. They were neither human nor otherworld, and shock grabbed him hard as he narrowly avoided a clawlike hand that swiped downward.

He glanced back at Declan and saw the same reaction.

How in the hell had shades from the underworld gained access topside? It made no sense. As far as he understood, they couldn’t survive anywhere other than hell.

The one closest to him moaned, its mouth gaping as the sound magnified and became louder until Julian wanted to crush the bastard’s larynx. He lunged and swiped his dagger across its throat and felt a burning pain rip across his flesh as his arm passed through the shade. Like fire enveloped inside ice.

His momentum carried him forward. He compensated and rolled, whirling around and ducking just in time as a second shade rushed him.

The air that followed in its wake was fetid, and he grimaced, snarling at Declan. “How the hell do we kill them?” he yelled. His voice was thick and dead-sounding. There was no echo, and he shook his head as a weird sensation pressed against his ears. Like a box of cotton had been stuffed inside his cranium.

Dread sat heavy as a stone in his belly. He’d taken every lick of pain that the bitch with the dagger had doled out. He’d inhaled confusion, dined on fear and depravity below, yet nothing terrified him more than the shades.

Julian wasn’t ashamed to admit it, either. It was the reason he pressed on, was willing to sacrifice all to complete his task. He would not end up as one of them. Souls condemned to an existence that was neither dead nor alive. They were cursed to roam eternity in the hell realm as nothing more than an imprint of their former lives.

Declan’s face was lit with a feral fire, his eyes luminous as they shone through the gloom. He held his hands out at the sides, his Glock and dagger on the floor beside him. His fingers glowed in earnest as the three shades moved toward Declan, their disembodied forms gliding across the floor rapidly.

“Come on, you bastards,” Declan snarled and he rushed to meet them head-on. Energy sizzled from his fingers, electrical conduits of death that sparked into a shower of light as they encased the three forms.

Instantly, the shades rose into the air, twisting as their mouths opened into a noiseless scream that somehow echoed deep inside Julian’s head. The pain that ripped along his skull was instant, and he closed his eyes, staggering back from the force of it.

When he was able to focus again, the air was rank with dark energy. It sizzled as he pulled in gulps of air, and it fed the beast, which answered in kind. He felt it stir, that part of him that he’d been fighting for da