Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [49]
Davoren's right gauntlet shimmered with magic. A second imp, identical to the first, appeared at her back. Wonderful.
Twilight didn't give Davoren the chance. She straightened, pulling her rapier back to throw, and ran toward him. She might not cover the five or six paces between them in time, but her blade would. The warlock's eyes went wide and he shot flame at her. Had he blasted the imp, it would not have arced to Twilight in time.
Even in panic, though, he had not abandoned all aim. The ruby ray struck her rapier's hilt, superheating it in an instant and unleashing a tremor upon her hand with the kind of fotce that would have shattered bone had she not released the weapon to fly over her shoulder.
Cursing in pain and consternation, the shadowdancer watched as Betrayal skittered along the ground behind her. A thumb's breadth lower, and his blast would have destroyed her hand to the wrist. Davoren cursed his missed blast and danced back, power flickering in his eyes as he invoked his lord's gifts again.
"I will destroy you, whore!" Davoren sneered.
Always insults about my lovelife-or my profession, she mused as he threw fire that consumed his imp. It darted for Twilight.
This time, the elf managed to dodge, but only by leaping onto Davoren. The flames jetted over her head and slammed into the wall, sending chips of stone flying. The elf and the warlock went down in a heap of bodies, kicking and scrabbling.
Davoren slammed Twilight to the ground, but she hit his stomach with her knee. The warlock reeled, rolling away, and Twilight seized the chance to pounce atop him, hands going for his throat. He caught her wrist in both hands and pried at her grip.
They locked, pitting wiry muscles against each other. She had his throat in her right hand. Her left slapped her belt, searching for some weapon. She knew she didn't have the strength to choke the life from him or shatter his neck. One of her lockpicks would do; a quick thrust to the eye or temple would put the warlock down.
Then a thin blade appeared in Davoren's hand, snatched from a sheath inside one of his demon bracers, and it darted for Twilight's face. Her hand shot out and caught Davoren's wrist. The warlock spit and slavered, straining against Twilight, the point of his stiletto just a hair's breadth from her jugular.
The tip scratched her neck and a bright spot of blood welled up.
"Almost, filliken." Davoren hissed through clenched teeth. "Almost."
"Almost nothing "she said.
Twilight squeezed the tendon in his wrist just so, and Davoren squealed in pain. She slammed his hand against the ground once, twice, knocking the blade free. The warlock, to his credit, kicked Twilight off him, but she was already extricating herself. She rolled free, over the fallen stiletto, and went for Betrayal where it lay.
Davoren struggled up, aimed his fingers at her back, and spat dark words, taking his time to articulate the brutish syllables.
In mid-roll, Twilight reversed direction and came up in a crouch, her hand crossbow pointing at the watlock's face. Moving for the rapier had just been a distraction, meant to keep the warlock's eye on the steel while he ignored the real threat.
By the time he saw the crossbow, the bolt was streaking for his face. Davoren wasn't quick enough to flinch.
Or perhaps he had no reason to fear.
The crossbow bolt skipped off Davoren's cheek, causing less damage than it would have to a mountainside.
"Sand," Twilight swore. She had forgotten Davoren's fiendish skin.
The failed attack allowed Davoren to complete his invocation, and a curtain of black-laced fire appeared around Twilight, trapping her in a circle that measured no more than five paces across. Discarding the crossbow in favor of the rapier she had collected, she growled at her foolishness.
"Davoren!" she snapped. "Face me, coward! I have steel in hand. Face me!"
The only response she received was the roar of the infernal flames, growling and laughing around her.
Twilight realized that he could be preparing any number of deaths for her, so she switched tactics. "Why