Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

Feathers mussed, the lifeless kitespray lay in a funny position, an arrow shaft visibly sticking up from its chest.

Marxi.

Hate surged through Siraay as she stared at the blood-flecked carcass of the dead scout, and she shifted her eyes away from the carcass, glancing back up at Falir, who was still watching her.

Then she saw his eyes zero in—on her throat.

And she realised that he was staring at her necklace, now visible with her shirt slightly askew.

The problem, of course, was that he was too good. A specialist, probably in intelligence, he had known the former Siray too well. From the moment his eyes met hers again, Siraay could see his mind working.

And in the space of a couple of heartbeats, she saw him work it out.

They locked stares, Falir’s eyes widening slightly.

Hers were cold and amused, and she let the hate she felt for these weaklings bleed into her gaze so he could see just what she thought of them.

Falir opened his mouth.

She moved.

In a blur of motion, Siraay stood and twisted quickly, Changing as she moved, letting her arms swing out from her body. As her hands arced wide, she gauged out the healer’s eyes just as her claws materialised.

As she continued to swing around, she also used her claws tear through the soft and unprotected throats of the two Resistance males on either side of her before landing on all fours.

Blood sprayed and screams of pain rent the air, and Siraay’s body sank lower, it’s altered muscular structure no longer supportive of the position she had been in.

Then the shouting began.

Siraay leapt for the next closest group of soldiers, opening one up from shoulder to hip as she swiped a taloned claw lazily at him, then she leapt on another, her teeth aiming true for the female’s throat.

Five down—in less time than it took to take three breaths.

As new screams ripped through the air, drowning out the orders that were being shouted out by Resistance sergeants, Siraay realised that Drosni and Lifron had left their cover and were working as a team to bring down their enemies swiftly and viciously, the blirrus going low while the cripwof leapt high.

Finished with the female, Siraay spun towards the prisoners and began sprinting towards their guards.

Yet, despite her swiftness, the guards were ready for her, Falir shouting orders for them to hold their position as they drew their bows and their eyes locked on to Siraay’s attacking form.

She didn’t flinch from her path but snarled as she kept on towards them, gathering her body to spring, only hoping she could get close enough before they could fire. Yet even as she leapt, she saw something they couldn’t possibly see—not with their gazes firmly locked on her.

An instant later, those faces were expressing pain and shock as the prisoners set upon the Resistance soldiers from behind. Pyron, the sergeant, and the other member of their unit leapt to reclaim their knives from the soldiers, and then they used the weapons to devastating effect, the sharp blades rising and falling numerous times.

Siraay felt her eyes widen slightly as she saw Pyron Change into a vicousery—a fierce and intelligent two-legged, birdlike creature, which had a long, cruel claw on each foot, and which could slice through an enemy’s hide with one kick to the body.

And the creatures were fast. Lean, with pebbled skin that allowed them to blend into both rough rocky terrain and forests, vicouserys had strong legs that added both speed and power to any attack they made.

And Pyron knew how to use every advantage of the form the Mother had given him.

Siraay actually had to force herself to turn away, to remember that there were still threats all around her, so awed was she by Pyron’s lethal efficiency.

With several Resistance soldiers already down, the odds were beginning to look more even, and Siraay happily applied herself to the task of balancing it still further.

Until a shout that was part glee, part command, reached her ears.

Everyone in the immediate area, Xarcon and Resistance alike, seemed to freeze at the tone of that shout. It was triumphant and commanding, and could have come from anyone.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Drosni or any of the others.

Siraay’s eyes once more found Falir, the voice behind the cry.

Armed with a drawn bow, he stood just a couple of body lengths away from her on what had become a killing field, with Pyron, who was also nearby, targeted. ‘Stop where you are and drop to the ground!’

She looked at him, frozen as she wondered what to do.

‘I mean it—I’ll kill him!’ Falir shouted, drawing back the arrow he had nocked, the tension in the bow lending credence to this threat to kill the vicousery.

Chezran would be unhappy, Siraay knew, if she let Pyron be killed.

But he would be even more unhappy if either she or Pyron were taken prisoner.

She Changed back into her normal form. ‘Okay,’ she said, raising her hands slightly in an attempt to placate Falir. ‘We’ll cooperate.’ She bent her knees, moving slowly, leaning forwards until her hands grazed the ground …

Where she slipped two long knives from the scabbards of a Resistance corpse.

Swinging her upper body back up, Siraay locked eyes with Falir as she launched herself towards him, and the former cook’s lips thinned as he prepared to loose his arrow, the moment seeming to stretch out impossibly long.

Siraay’s feet left the ground, one after the other, her arms holding the knives out before her, the blades pointed down as her body sailed through the air.

Then a great crashing sound came from behind her …

And time started up again.

The crashing noise made Falir hesitate just long enough for Siraay to reach out with one of the knives and slash the blade towards him, its sharp tip separating the flesh of his muscled arm along the length of his bicep just as he released the arrow.

She would have preferred to be slightly closer to him