With the smooth curve of his talon, he caressed Angela’s cheek. Icarus took hold of her frail arm and dragged her to him.

She lumbered through the opening in the wall and away from the protection of sanctified ground.

Unable to help himself, Powell leaned forward, mentally willing the girl to cross the invisible barrier.Īfter weeks of abuse, whatever strength Angela might have possessed was no match against the call of the demon. At the boundaries of the holy ground her footsteps faltered. He watched with morbid fascination as she glided forward. Before the force of his enchantment could ensnare him as well, Powell released his hold and backed away. The command slithered toward the girl and wrapped around her like a sensual net. Icarus held out his hand, the razor-sharp talons beckoning Angela forward. But she won’t be able to resist the cries of her closest friend.įor your sake, monk, I hope you’re right. Where is the other woman? The gifted one? Powell wasn’t fooled by the deadly calm of Icarus’s voice. Always crying and pleading to be left alone, too stupid to realize how lucky they were that they’d been chosen to serve him. Her thin shift clung to her bony frame, and her dull eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking-unseeing.Īngela had been lovely once, but like so many, she hadn’t been woman enough to withstand the honor of his attentions. She stood unnaturally still, compelled by the monk’s hypnosis-a spell taught to him by the demon. Raising it higher, he revealed a young woman. Rain pelted the torch he held, causing it to hiss and spit. He ignored the question and swiped the rain from his eyes. What troubles you Brother? Icarus’s deep purr poured over him, sinking deep and tempting him to look at the demon. Glancing away, he refused to stare into the yellow, mesmerizing gaze. Everything about the demon nearly paralyzed Powell with fear, but it was the reptilian eyes he avoided the most.

Two spiraled horns jutted upward, sharp and deadly. His leathery wings scraped the tree branches overhead, and waves of ebony hair hung down his back in thick coils that were banded together with rings of gold. Thankfully, it was a barrier he couldn’t cross. Sinewy muscles rippled under taught, black skin as he prowled toward the crumbled wall of the abbey. Horrifying yet beautiful, Icarus moved toward Brother Powell with frightening grace.

Shield of Fire by Boone Brux