Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) by Robert III (best books for 7th graders .txt) 📕

Veiul spun in the air, kicking her in the face. She slammed into the wall, recovered and blinked, wiping blood out of her eyes. Fang rolled out of the way as Veiul’s boot smashed into the floor. She grabbed Veiul’s leg, picked her up, and slammed her into the far wall.

Pain wracked her chest. She shook her head, bending over with another coughing fit. The strange powders altered her mind, displacing reality, forcing her back in time.

***

She raised her head and wiped her burning eyes. Her body shook from adrenaline, the North Atlantic waters or... something else. A quick glance around the room—or the ship?

“Embeth!”

Her sister’s little fingers clung to a loose board as the ship lolled. Embeth spat and coughed and cried out. Her feet dug into the old wood as best as they could.

“I’m coming to you! Hold on!” she screamed at her little sister.

Lightning strobed across the sky, highlighting the ship as it rose higher. Charlotte loosened her grip from the line and climbed forward, but the pitch made it difficult.

Embeth’s body slid sideways and down until her feet were within Charlotte’s reach. She stretched out to her little sister and grabbed her foot.

The ship crashed down, and they both slammed into the deck. Water splattered around them, but Embeth let go of her hold and reached out.

They embraced.

She wanted to hug her little sister so badly, wanted to feel the warmth of her cheek against her own, wanted to feel their hearts beating together. Embeth’s soaked body trembled in her arms. She sobbed and held Charlotte’s neck so tight, but it was all perfectly wonderful. Because she had almost been lost, and now she was here, right in her arms.

“Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not going anywhere, Embeth.”

She opened her eyes. Eruptions of blue-white light pulsed through the darkness, enough to create a false sense of daylight, enough to see a massive wall of water rising in front of the ship.

***

A glass cabinet crashed on her head. Shards bit into her back and shoulders. She pushed herself from the floor, and pieces fell to the side. She looked up at Veiul, whose own body was bleeding and broken.

They were both fighters, sharing the same deadly training and unbending will to finish their objective. And now who was going to finish this?

“How was your trip down memory lane?” Veiul asked, panting. “Moreci said you had weak points, deep inside. I could have killed you much earlier, but you know me. I like to make things as painful as possible. Even if I can’t see the damage being done.”

Fang spat blood and raised herself to her hands and knees until she crouched. Her head was dizzy, her gut nauseated. She stuck a dagger into the wood, pushing herself up.

“That was a lot of work,” Fang said. “A big effort. Just for me?” She sidestepped into the hall. “And here we are, not really any different from when we were kids fighting in the combat ring. Making Papa Moreci proud with our bloodied fisticuffs, making him wipe away your tears when you lost, again and again.” She smiled.

Veiul sneered, lunging, tackling Fang. Pain exploded in her ribs, and air rushed out of her lungs. They tumbled across the floor, closer to the balcony. Veiul pulled herself on top, landing blow after blow, slamming her fists into Fang’s face and head. Relentless. Unmerciful. She grabbed Fang by the collar, yanking her up so they were face to face.

“Nothing,” Veiul hissed. “You. Are. Nothing. And what would Embeth say? Huh? Knowing her death was just—”

With a grunt, Fang launched Veiul in the air and over the balcony. The fae fell over the edge without a sound. Fang heaved herself up and walked to the balcony, looking over the edge.

Veiul gripped the bottom ledge with white knuckles. They stared at each other with their bloodied faces. The roar of the melee below filled their ears. The Turned were bathed in blood, roaring, howling, their greedy hands stretching up for new flesh.

“You said I don’t belong with humans or vampires or the nether-realm. But I know where you belong, and it looks like your people are ready to take you,” Fang said.

Veiul smirked. “And who will you be joining? Do you think anyone will let you in their little club? Maybe that pretentious detective Coyle? How long before you end up killing her? How long before she cries out while you watch helplessly?” Veiul’s face shifted and changed into Embeth’s.

“Help! Help! Help me!”

Fang stiffened, staring back into Embeth’s bloodied face. Her mind reeled. The thrashing crowd below melted into rolling, white-capped waves, the balcony under her hands turned into the ship’s railing, and her feet shifted under the sway of the deck.

“No.” Fang shook her head. “No, this... this isn’t real.” But that was a lie. The crashing waves were just underneath Embeth’s feet as she held on to the railing. Freezing salt water drenched her face, the shock of it stealing away the breath in her lungs.

“Sister! Help! Help!” Embeth cried out.

“I’m trying.” Fang’s heart hammered louder than the crashing waves. But something wasn’t right, and she hesitated. Why wasn’t she trying harder? What was wrong with her?

“You don’t love me!”

“That’s not true.”

“Then prove it.”

The little girl reached up and Fang’s hand shot down to grab it. They held each other, arm and arm, hand to hand. Fang smiled. She’d done it. She’d saved her sister. This was all so different from her memories, but she didn’t care what was real anymore. She had her sister now, they were together—

Veiul slammed her knife into Fang’s arm, tearing through skin and bone and out the other side. Fang screamed and yanked her grip away.

Veiul held on to the knife with both hands, grinning with bloodied teeth, cackling like a maniac. Fang yanked her arm away and ripped out the blade. The shape-shifting woman fell, her face melting, shifting from Embeth, to Fang, to