CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE FACETED BLADE SANG a siren's song, drawing Mina in with its tales of long-ago feasts, of gorging on delicious, bloody death seasoned to perfection by fear. An inkling of raw power and brazen desire coursed through her blood like ichor, causing her head to spin and her skin to flush. Her lips parted, her stomach twisted, and she took a step forward.
The wall of people closed, blocking the blade from sight, cutting off its song. This left an echo of the voices that cried underneath the luring melody...and a sick feeling in her gut. Mina sucked in a ragged breath and rubbed her sweaty palms down her thighs. The wave of nausea, mixed with that dark desire, slowly abated but didn't disappear entirely.
The flow of people ebbed again, exposing her once more to the blade
