Half of his face was nothing more than a gory pulp that dripped blood onto her shoulder. With sudden force the man reversed their positions, slamming her down against the ground, his carcass pressing her to the cobblestone street. His hands sprung to life, gripping her arms. “Sareem,” she sobbed into his gory shoulder.

He was at the bottom, waiting for her, and Vhalla took the battered and bloody body of her dead friend into her arms, weeping until her throat was raw. The flames licked around her hands, but they didn’t burn her. Vhalla began pulling the rubble aside, one large block at a time. She was too late every time, every night. Pulled by an invisible force, her feet dragged one inch, then the next, toward the rubble. There was nothing behind her, nothing beside her the path before her was illuminated by one last glittering flame, consuming a building that had collapsed in on itself. Vhalla lowered her hands slowly, peeling one eye open, and then the next. Nothing could hinder the dying cries of the shadow people, cries echoing to her very soul-not the palms pressed over her ears, not even her own screams.

She ran, and each shadowed apparition she came into contact with dissolved into the darkness that slowly encroached upon her.

She didn’t want to go farther, but her heart drummed out a single word-faster, faster, faster. Her fingertips rested upon the next-another scream. The apparition gave a blood-curdling scream before being ripped apart, dissolving into wind-like smoke. Tears already stained her cheeks when she reached out a hand to push away the first. The dark, faceless people began to close in around her, hindering her, smothering her.

Faster and faster, she ran through the night, from one horrific scene to the next, as though she was running toward the end of the world itself. The people who I owe everything to-literally. Library of Congress Control Number: 2015914250 Neither this book, nor any parts within it may be sold or reproduced in any form without permission. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.Īll rights reserved. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The air awakens series