Trick of Shadows (The Duskhunter Saga Book 2) by Sara Roethle (free e books to read .TXT) 📕

“How?” he rasped. “How are you keeping me out? The Sidhe couldn’t even keep me out.”

I didn’t bother to explain that my sword and Ryllae had helped me. I lunged forward, shoving my blade up through his chest. He grunted, and I pulled it out in a wash of blood. He fell to his knees, but still he did not die.

“How?” he gasped again. “With her blood I should have been immortal.”

I raised my sword over my shoulder. “Ask me how many immortals I have killed, and maybe it will make sense to you.”

I didn’t give him time to ask. I swung my sword, parting his head from his shoulders. I watched his head rolling across the floor, and could have sworn it blinked before the eyes finally went distant with death.

Panting, I lowered my sword, glancing back toward Steifan and Tholdri.

Steifan was the first to come to. He looked at me, his eyes registering the death of the Nattmara, then he rushed to Ryllae.

I was at her other side in an instant, placing my bloody sword on the stone floor beside me. I knelt over her, checking her blood-slick neck for a pulse. Her bleeding had slowed, but there was a big pool on the ground and who knew how much had gone down Egar’s mouth.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when her eyes fluttered open. She lifted a hand to her throat, her fingers trembling like butterfly wings. “You came.” Her words gurgled, letting me know she had blood in her airway, but she seemed to be healing. Even now, I could see her torn skin slowly beginning to reknit.

If she healed faster than a vampire, could Egar do the same? I whipped my gaze back to his body, then managed to calm myself. His head still remained fully parted from his shoulders. But seeing how well Ryllae could heal, I knew I’d be burning his body before I’d be able to sleep at night.

Tholdri had finally regained his senses and came to stand over us. “What in the Light just happened?”

I looked up at him. “Glamour. Steifan seems to have more of a resistance to it than you.”

Steifan stayed kneeling at Ryllae’s other side. “I could hear what was going on, but I couldn’t see nor move.” Ryllae reached out for his hand, and he helped her sit up.

She still clutched her throat, but the color was returning to her cheeks.

“How is she healing?” Tholdri asked.

Ryllae looked at me, managing a pained smile. “You really do know how to keep a secret, don’t you?”

“That she does,” Steifan said.

Tholdri put his hands on his hips, looming over us. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”

I stood. “The Nattmara is dead, and his victim will survive. Does it matter how she manages to heal?”

“You’re infuriating.”

With Steifan’s help, Ryllae stood. “It is not her secret to tell, just be grateful that she shares her own with you.”

I raised a brow at her. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged, then winced. “They are both important to you. When I helped you overcome the glamour, I could sense that your greatest need was to protect them.”

Though he still didn’t fully know what was going on, Tholdri grinned and put an arm around my shoulder. “That’s our Lyss. Just a big softy.”

I shoved his arm away with a laugh, glancing once more at the Nattmara. It was hard to believe he was actually dead. I searched for the torch, finding it had rolled against the wall right next to the doorway.

“Let’s burn the body here,” I said. “I don’t want to risk him ever coming back, and we still need to bring justice to Duke and Duchess Auclair before the day is through. Maybe if we approach the Montrants covered in blood, we can scare them into confessing.” I meant my words in jest, but thinking about it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“They are the culprits of your murder investigation?” Ryllae asked.

“Yes,” I answered, “and they have been kidnapping people to sell them to vampires. The Nattmara was stealing some of the victims.”

“And you would like to scare them into confessing?” she asked.

“I meant it half-joking,” I explained. “I don’t know how we would scare them enough to confess.”

Seeming more steady on her feet, Ryllae smiled. “I believe I can help with that.”

I found her smile unsettling, but I wouldn’t turn down the help.

Just how frightening could one of the Sidhe be? We were about to find out.

Chapter Seventeen

We burned the Nattmara where he lay. I filled Ryllae in on the rest of the details of the murders. She had actually met Charlotte before, and believed she could help.

Our first step was to leave a bloody piece of parchment in the Montrant’s cellar, and I was quite sure after the duke’s confession that it had been their cellar where we had first found the kidnapped girl.

That first step was easy, the next, more difficult. We had decided to wait until nightfall, which would give us time to make ourselves more presentable. Of the three of us, I was the most grotesque, covered in blood both old and new with three scratches already healing at my throat.

Seeing no other option, I bathed in the cold dark water of the canal. I ended up with sopping wet hair and clothing, trudging back toward the canal entrance near the old keep. Once we were above ground, I hung my outer layers of clothing to dry. Ryllae stayed with us, prepared to protect us with her glamour if need be.

Yet there was no need. We waited out the rest of the day, which stretched on impossibly long, and eventually my clothes had dried enough to wear. Now that Egar was dead, my mind was consumed with getting justice for the Auclairs, and for all the missing people. We had never found Bastien or Vannier, so I could only guess that they were dead. Maybe once the Montrants confessed,