The Thief (A Tale of Heroes & Demons Book 2)

Chapter 12

The Darkest Dance

Their power pulsed through the room, draining the air and pressing on his lungs. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, a roaring cacophony that ripped through him, urging him to run.

Declan shifted his feet. How was he going to get out of this mess? Declan forced his breathing to calm. No use panicking. As his heart rate slowed, so did everything else.

Although one called each other brother and sister, the demons appeared nothing alike. The man stood close to Declan's height, with a shock of crimson hair contrasting his chestnut skin.

The other was nearly two feet shorter, pale with fair red hair. Her crystal blue eyes nearly glowed as the torchlight reflected on them. She grinned. "What do we have here? A lost traveler, perhaps?"

"Does it matter?" The man leaned forward and rested his chin on the woman's head. "As long as get to play."

Declan shifted back, attempting to increase the space between himself and the evil pulsing through the room. His boot scraped across a rock and he cringed. The demons' eyes snapped towards him, and his blood drained as darkness rolled over their gaze—the whites of their eyes disappeared amongst the black that spread over them.

"Do my eyes deceive me, brother? It appears our new plaything is trying to leave."

The man lifted his head and stepped to stand beside her while simultaneously drawing a short sword from the scabbard strapped to his back. "Shame. We were about to have to much fun. Would you like the honours, Eanne?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Declan shifted his grip on his sword. The demons were circling—eyeing their prey. All the other creatures shuffled along the edges of the clearing, building in number down the tunnels as their eyes tracked Declan's movements.

He blinked. The red-head, Eanne, disappeared. Declan pressed back against the wall, trying to isolate the possible points of attack.

The shadows shifted in the edge of his vision and he spun, sword at the defense. Sparks flew as Eanne's weapon clashed against his own.

Those black fathomless eyes stared into his as she grinned. With a grunt, he pushed her back, yet she just laughed and twirled her blade, giving him an exaggerated wink. "Not just a lost traveler, then, are we?"

He didn't deign to answer. Egging them on likely only fed their appetites for all kinds of cruelties. Pacing back, he watched her.

She twirled around and darted to strike. She was slower this time, no longer blending into the shadows. Shuffling on her feet, she feinted, and he parried until she was nothing more than a blur dancing before him.

A gasp ripped from his throat when the edge of her blade sliced across his arm. He jumped back, only to slam stone wall of the cave. Eanne had backed him into a corner.

When she moved to swing at him again, he dropped to the ground and struck at her feet. Before he could identify if he made contact, he darted to the side and out of reach.

Sweat beaded on his brow. It dripped into his eye and blurred his vision.

"No fair!" Eanne spat.

"It appears this traveler knows more than you think." Declan allowed himself a moment of triumph. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to defeat her as he thought.

A large mass slammed into Declan's side, sending him careening into the floor. His face burned where it dragged across the dirt and stone that made up the cave floor, leaving behind blood and flesh where it snagged on protruding stones.