When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

so stupid not to notice before? The lighter he’d been playing with in the tunnel. Scentless mirage. Bloodless kills. The vampire had not only beguiled her into a trap but was enough of a dumbass to lose control of it.

“Vladimir, when I get out of this I will fuc—” the fingers tightened and the curse died with her oxygen. She could only glare as the shadows continued to pour from the hole and swallow the Prince of Darkness in a tomb of black.

Two minutes Earlier

Aylos- dispel.

A simple command, really. So simple, in fact, that it rarely needed words. Magicians doused their magic with their will, which is how he’d always controlled the shadows.

It’d been perfect. With Michael’s feather as an amplifier, he’d spent all afternoon perfecting his shadow puppets. Now, it was showtime.

He dodged an “elf’s” small fist, then flicked a blade through its throat. Shadows whipped like a kraken from his feet. A black tentacle slid through four, then dismissively tossed them aside. He let the shadows hold a defense as his eyes searched for Val. She was having the time of her life. A lusting carnage of claws, speed, and strength. One day…

He would have much rather taken Val to one of those blacklight casinos back home, but at least she had relaxed. Perhaps by the end, she’d loosen that tightly wound cage. Impure thoughts danced through his mind until something struck his back, far stronger than it should have.

He whipped around to find one of the elves staring him down. Checking to ensure Val was out of sight, he crouched down to meet its gaze.

“Oh? You think you’re tough, little guy?” He leaned close, pressing his nose against the puppet’s. “Aylos.”

Rather than dispersing into mist, the elf reeled back and socked him straight in the nose. Vladimir flew backwards into a heap of debris, head smacking on a stone wall.

He lay there a moment—stunned. The puppets weren’t weak, but they shouldn’t have been able to send him flying. Vladimir closed his eyes and stretched himself throughout the broken city. He traveled through the shadows like a current. Tendrils of his will wound the broken pillars, filled buildings, and surveyed the rubble. When he and Val had entered, there were two-thousand dark elves in total. He had dispersed a few hundred, and Creator only knew how many Val had killed. But still, something was wrong. His eyes flared open in panic.

Zero. He couldn’t sense any of them.

The elf who’d punched him was less than ten yards away, but he couldn’t wrap his power around it. Securing his knives, he sank to the shadows, then shot up behind the creature. It died as easily as the rest, but there was something different. It was less tangible; more dense cloud than flesh imitation.

Two more had appeared. Vladimir gripped his knives tighter as they approached, and he actually took a step back. The shadows bled from their eyes, down their cheeks and enveloped their whole bodies in blackness.

“Aylos.”

They charged forward. He flicked his wrist to throw them back with the darkness, but the gesture proved as effective as the spell. Surprisingly enough, the elves—or whatever they were, now—cast shadows of their own. Vladimir reached out with his mind and took them. With a flick of his hand, he decapitated each elf with its own shadow.

Vladimir slumped his shoulders in satisfaction when the bodies dissolved. Unfortunately, the feeling only lasted a moment. The darkness was already gathering in a puddle, and seconds later, had darted out into the ruins.

The sound of Val’s fighting came into earshot and he took up his nonchalant cloak once more. He danced over bodies and waved his knives in the air of a performer. Even still, he clenched his teeth at the blows that really did get past him. He winced as an attack to his spine almost broke his guard.

Just when he’d thinned the last wave, the ground rumbled beneath, and he lost his balance. A shadow creature struck him in the gut and he nearly doubled over. Regaining his foothold, Vladimir wiped the blood from his mouth and steepled his hands. The creature’s shadow impaled its owner like a pyramid, then dispersed.

An explosion ripped the air as the ground beneath him fell away to an abyss. Leaping aside, he twisted to a defensive stance. Hundreds of shadows poured from the crater. He turned to locate Val to see her pinned beneath some massive, bulging shape with vague impressions of arms and legs.

The creatures swarming him were bigger. Most of them weren’t even fully developed. One had a half a mangled arm. Another was missing a nose and mouth. Even still, their power was overwhelming. Black and silver slashed the air as showmanship crumbled beneath his sheer need to stay alive.

Another unseen hit sent him to his knees. More red splattered on the brown stone. For a brief moment, he wished he’d inherited an ability of blood over shadow, but the fleeting image of the Eastern Kingdom’s queen banished the thought. Gritting his teeth, he lashed out at the nearest shape.

Before he even pulled the blade back, ten had piled atop him.

“Dispel,” he begged, the Ynsri lost in desperation.

“Dispel.” Something bit down on his leg and the army above got heavier.

“Dispel.”

Chapter 23

The rest of the circus was just as bizarre and fantastical as the first act. An incredibly poor lion tamer—a lycan—was eaten by his beast, then emerged from its stomach undead. The lion came back to life as well and the two sempiternus creatures continued their act. An earthquake followed shortly after as four rotting elephants barreled from underground to the center of the ring.

As they stomped their feet, stone pillars rose beneath them. They then performed rather complex dance routines fifty feet in the air.

The most beautiful