They showed up in two hours.Twelve riders, all dressed in capes-once white, and now smeared in dirt. Three Punishers with their heads shaven, the same look of obsession on their faces, flashes of light in their auras. That was not good at all.Darkness dissolves matter, and light burns it all. A normal person is balanced, but these... But who am I to say that? Demons are parts of darkness, and sooner or later, it will claim me, unless I manage to remain human.They stopped at the scene that I had carefully prepared for them. A dead horse and a man in a black cloak lying on his back. Of course, there was nothing under the cloak, but who would check?So, who'll go first? Ah, too bad I don't have a crossbow. Whatever. I'll manage. Especially since they stopped right where I wanted them to.I sized up the situation for the last time. All right, here we go!A daring leap into the center of the squad, and I landed right behind one of the pursuers

In a week, after I had enough time to process everything, we gathered the family council, Rick, Henry, Martha and I.We didn’t invite anyone else. Cassandra and Mirabelle didn’t really want to be there, anyway. What could they do? Take pity on me? Please. Neither Rick nor Henry had ever lied to me. Sometimes, they hadn’t told the whole truth, until I was old enough to hear it, anyway. But I had never heard them straight-up lie to me.And now we had to decide on what we were going to do. I couldn’t leave the kingdom in Rudolph’s hands. A king? A crowned oaf sitting on the throne!The Saint only knows what part of his body he uses to think. I know I didn’t want to know.Rick was the first to speak up. “Have you seen enough?”I nodded. Enough? I was stuffed to the brink! For that chaos in his kingdom, uncle should be more than just killed!“So, what will you do?”That made me pa

“Enough said. Does it still exist?”“It does, but not for long.”“We’ll see...”I was in my human form, of course, all pretty and gentle-looking. I liked my appearance. Wasn’t I cute? Fair-haired, blue-eyed, a perfect replica of my mother. Except for the fact that her tongue hadn’t been forked, and when I lost control, that was how the reverse transformation started. My voice also became raspy, hissing, but why should I care, really? I wasn’t going to kiss anybody here or let anyone look inside my mouth, and the rest didn’t matter.The claws, however... For some reason, they were the second to transform. Gloves wouldn’t help. The only way was to keep myself in check every minute. I absolutely couldn’t blow up. Do half-demons have good self-control? Honestly, not really. But I was also a necromancer, and necromancers who wore their emotions on their sleeves didn’t live long. For us, calm and peace of mind were crucial. And I was calm, quiet as a grave. Which was the exact place where t

Late at night, Henry left his final instructions for Tom and me. We were to avoid needless confrontations, not kill whomever we wanted without thinking through all of the ramifications, not demonstrate all our talents, and not raise the dead wherever I wished. We were to take care of ourselves, too. I gave him a few of my mother’s trinkets as keepsakes.A small portrait of her which was left on the table—looks like Grandfather had come in here after she had left. A toy from her childhood. Henry still loved her, I saw that, and so I didn’t argue when he said that he would be leaving with the light of dawn. It would be better for him in Torrin.We went to bed after midnight. I woke before dawn. The hour of the necromancer. The best time for raising the dead and summoning demons. The dark hour, they call it. Tommy was snoring in the next room, while I tried to listen. What had awakened me? Or who? I didn’t know, yet...it felt like a chord singing in the night—a sharp, clear sound... Was

The duel itself lasted for only twenty seconds. Rene, Ralf, and Leonid formed a triangle, with me and Ronald in the center. Ronald lunged at me, but it was clear by his stance that he had been taught in a fancy Kirnean fencing school, where elegance had always been more important than utility.I had been taught by Henry—and he had trained me to kill. I didn’t parry his strike. I didn’t have any reason to. I simply stepped aside and rapidly moved forward, slashing at the opponent’s neck with the very tip of my sword and assuming a low stance.Afterward, I stepped back—I had no desire to ruin my favorite doublet. The wound was...dirty. Blood poured out for several seconds, and Ronald was still trying to press his palms against his throat. It didn’t help. The instant he died, I knew. A gift of my power. The plump one turned pale with fright, yet he couldn’t refuse to fight—or I got the right to kill him right where he stood, or the seconds would. Edward Michel Tiernen knew that well.Aft