I gasped and reached for him.
Oh, fates, not Aidan. He’d thrown himself in front of lightning for me. He couldn’t be dead.
But he looked it.
More than anything, I wanted to go to him. But if I did, we were all dead.
They relied on me.
And the only chance I had was to use my magic. I couldn’t beat this guy with knives or quickness. Oh, fates, I didn’t want to blow us all up. If I tried to use lightning, that wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities.
But my deirfiúr were in that cage and Aidan lay dead or dying.
I blew out a shaky breath, then opened myself up to the thief’s magic. It sparked and crackled as it washed over me, lighting me up in a way that made me feel entirely alive. I absorbed it, picturing myself as a lightning rod.
When I felt full to bursting with electricity, I tried to gather it up, to harness it. The scent of ozone filled my nose. I envisioned myself throwing a bolt of lightning right at him, then popped up from behind the column. He was striding toward me. I threw out my hands and released the lightning.
It went awry, an enormous bolt hitting one wall. The stone exploded and crumbled, throwing dust into the air.
Damn! I dived behind the column again. Fortunately, the rocks had missed my deirfiúr and Aidan. But they’d also missed the thief, who’d been thrown to the side. I seriously doubted he was dead.
My entire body shook as I tried to harness the lightning again. I envisioned less of it. It’d be easier to control, and maybe I’d keep him alive long enough to ask some questions. How had he found me? Why did he want me?
Once I had a grasp on the lightning, I peered up over the column. He was climbing to his feet from where he’d been thrown. I stood, but before I could throw the lightning, he caught sight of me. His dark eyes blazed as he threw a bolt.
I dived to the side, barely missing being struck by it. I lunged up and threw my bolt at him, praying.
It hit him square in the chest. He shook and fell, his body alight.
I sprinted to him. It’d been a small bolt. Was he dead?
I skidded to a stop near him and straddled him, my hands around his throat. They hit a thick metal collar, but it didn’t strike me as odd when I felt his magic. He was alive. Which I could have guessed since his electric cage still buzzed over my deirfiúr. It should fade when he died.
He looked young—not more than twenty. He had black eyes and would have been handsome if his magic didn’t feel so awful—dark and polluted. It washed over me. It felt like drowning in tar made up of people’s evilest impulses. Though strangely, it didn’t feel connected to him. Like it was separate. It made no sense.
I shook him. “What do you know about me?”
His eyes fluttered open, then widened.
“FireSoul,” he hissed.
“How do you know?”
He just laughed. His dark magic pulsed, making me want to retch. It felt like it reached inside of me and twined about my insides, squeezing.
“Tell me or I’ll kill you,” I demanded.
“You kill me, he kills me. What’s the difference? It would be a blessing.”
“Who is he? Do you work for someone?”
His black eyes rolled in his head. “He hunts you. You are the hunted now, Huntress.”
“How do you know that name?” Only my deirfiúr knew that name. I shook him hard and he coughed.
“The scroll,” he wheezed. “I read it. Master will be pleased to know where you are.”
“Master? Who the hell is that? Why does he want to know where I am?” Fear chilled my skin.
“Master hunts us all.” He stared up at me with blank eyes.
“All?”
“All of us. FireSouls.”
Us? It hit me then, with sickening clarity. The collar. His immense power. He was an enslaved FireSoul. Possibly enslaved by the man from my nightmare—the one who’d kept me in that dark stone room.
It was monstrous.
My gaze caught on his collar. There was a large latch on the front. It enraged me.
I pushed on the latch. The collar popped off.
He sucked in a harsh breath. The dark magic that had pulsed from him surged from the collar, washing over his body. Suddenly, his own magic felt purer, cleaner. It smelled like the desert and tasted like oranges. But the tar of the dark magic still covered it, sick and evil. His skin darkened, turning gray, as if the evil magic within him were rising to the surface.
“Does he know where I am?” I asked.
His gaze met mine. His eyes had changed from black to blue. And they were clearer. As if his mind were no longer fogged by the collar.
“No,” he whispered. “Why he…needs the scroll. To find more of us.”
“But you were in my shop.”
“Not for you. For the chalice. He wants it. Shadow demon failed… He sent me to track it. I did not know what you were…until I read the scroll.” He was gasping between words now.
“You haven’t told him about me, then?” My heart beat so hard it tried to break my ribs.
“Was going to tonight…when he meets me.”