Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her body from trying. The worst pain came from the base of her spine, with her body attempting to reconnect bones separated by silver. It was like hot magma was being bored directly onto the small of her back. The elf had no idea that she was a Shadow Healer, so he had just inadvertently caused her almost as much pain as he had when torturing her.
‘Can’t . . . do this,’ she whimpered mentally. But her eyes fell on the young were who was trembling against the wall. ‘He’s next,’ she thought. She couldn’t let what had been done to her be done to him. But how . . . ‘Darkness,’ was the thought that penetrated the cloud of her mind. She closed her eyes and concentrated as she had never concentrated before, “seeing” the darkness around her. She tensed up with what was left of her energy and did the smallest, hardest jump she’d ever made.
Her body broke down into shadow and slid out of the magically enhanced shackles, but she was only able to make it a few feet away before collapsing in pool of pain and flesh. She let out a whimper because, again, that was all she was capable of.
“Who is that?” the young were whispered from his spot in the wall. He could smell her, but could not see her in the absolute darkness of the pit. Shamira could see him just fine.
It took all her will to avoid passing out due to pain. It was if a thousand pins were digging into her skin and a thousand razorblades were embedded in her bones. But while her arms were bruised and battered, they were not broken, so she dragged herself forward. Maybe she could gather enough strength to pull the were free.
“Duh . . . duh muv,” she mumbled through her broken jaw. She grabbed the chains connecting his feet to the wall and pulled. No give.
“What . . . how did you get free?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope. That hope cut Shamira like one of Daniel’s instruments of torture. She did not see how she could free this poor kid, but now he seemed to think she would. She could not let him down. She pulled again, but still nothing.
Shamira slammed her hand on the ground in anger, then looked around. There were some tools at the far end of the room, and she guessed they were extras for his garage. She did not see any cutting implements though, and her frustration grew. That was when something wholly unexpected happened.
She was reaching for the were’s chains again when she saw the darkness around her hands begin to grow . . . deeper. Yes, “deeper” was the only thing that made sense. Shamira could see in any darkness, except that blackness which now encircled her hands resisted even her vision. Total darkness, cold and hard. It crept along her hands, then began to extend from her fingers like . . . claws.
Shane’s words echoed in her mind. First was the Shadow Healing, then the Shadow Jumping and Shadow Sight. The fourth Shadow Aspect was called the Shadow Claws. Four Aspects, mean the fifth —
‘Screw you Shadow Wing,’ she thought angrily. Where was his power and blessing when she had been stripped of her soul, one pound of flesh at a time? She had never asked for his damn power or the trials to get it. She would give it all up to have avoided the last twenty-four hours. No amount of power was worth that. Angrily, she swiped at the chains before her.
The were’s bindings sliced clean through, parting beneath Shamira’s claws as easily as butter around a hot knife.
“How did you do that?” the were asked. “Never mind. Cuh . . . can you get my wrists?”
Shamira looked up as best she could. It was at least six and a half feet up to those chains. There was no way . . . An idea came to her. She concentrated hard and tried another small Shadow Jump, appearing six feet in the air. She swung hard at the chains before she started to fall, severing them. Then she was able to pull off another small jump back to the ground, avoiding most (but not all) of the pain she had experienced escaping from her own bonds.
“Thank you,” the boy whispered.
“Nuh tuh get ‘ou ouf,” she said, struggling to form the words.
“How?” he asked. “I can’t see.”
Shamira looked around with her Shadow Sight. She could not see pass the bounds of the room, so she knew it was warded. She could teleport within this area, but she could not pass the borders. She was trapped, but the kid did not have to be. Then she saw a small window up above the shelving at the far corner of the room. It had been painted over with some kind of black substance, but it might just be a regular basement window otherwise.
“Oh-er ‘ere,” she said, then realized that the boy could not see where she was pointing. She was so tired that she was afraid she would not be able to jump again. She had not eaten anything in a couple of days, and her body was craving sustenance. Not just any food would do. Oh no, she needed blood. Her body was going to fight against her injuries, and was going through her energy reserves like mad. She needed to get this guy out of here before the only available warm body started looking like a good food source.
“I nuh-eed ‘ou to ‘o tuh uh uv-er side of fuh room.” Then she started to crawl over. She figured they did not have much time, so she needed to free this young man. Then, maybe, she could find a way to end her pain.
She and her young charge made it to the other side of the room at about the same time. “Uh ‘air, ‘ere is uh ‘indow. I ‘old the ‘elves an ‘ou huh-limb up. Break ‘indow and run.”
“Run? What about you? I can’t leave you here,” the boy whispered, his voice filled with fear.
“‘Ou ‘ust. Need tuh huh-inish ‘is.” She reached out to steady the metal shelves. “Huh-limb.”
“But –”
“Huh-limb!” She wanted him to climb . . . to go and to not look back. Slowly and with obvious reluctance, the boy climbed up, looking around anxiously any time a tool rattled. But he got to the top and then —
“Now what?”
“Huh-rap your huh-and in your huh-irt.”
The kid nodded, removing what was left of his shirt and wrapping it around his hand. He had seen enough movies to know what to do next. He punched the window hard enough to shatter it, but the padding around his hand helped muffle the sound. Through the opening, they could both see the distant twinkling of stars.
“Go!” Shamira managed to say when the whole was big enough for the were to slide through. He was skinny, but it would still be a tight fit. Shamira never would have made it out anyway.
“I can’t –”
“Go!” she hissed violently as she heard footsteps upstairs.
With a last whimper, the young man pulled himself up, cutting himself on the remaining glass but pulling himself to the outside. Shamira smelled the blood on the glass, and it smelled incredible. Her body wanted it, but her mind hesitated . . . barely. Her last act would not be to rob an innocent young man of his life. As she heard the door open above her head, she knew how she wanted her life to end. She wanted to be bathing in elvish blood when the final darkness claimed her.
“I swear I heard something,” came Jonas’s voice from the top.
“They’re both quite secure, I assure you.” Daniel still sounded smug, and Shamira watched from her dark corner opposite where she was being held, waiting. Her body still voiced its agony to her, but her thoughts were savage and spoke much louder.
His blood . . . his blood will do.
Shamira scuttled across the floor, propelling herself along with her hands while her Shadow Claws dug deep into the floor.
“Daniel, watch out!” shouted Jonas.
The elf’s feet had hit the floor, but he was still looking the other way. His hand had not even reached the light switch when the crawling creature passed underneath the ladder and attacked him from behind. The first swipe of Shamira’s claws severed both of the elf’s Achilles tendons, spurting blood as Daniel screamed and collapsed forward.
“Jonas! Get your ass . . . AUGH!” Daniel screamed again when Shamira started to crawl along his back, sinking claws all the way through his flesh and into the floor, puncturing veins and arteries while slicing bones and tendons. She reached into his back and ripped out his kidneys, then stared up at the hole in the ceiling and saw Jonas staring back at her.