The lead guard didn't run. Driven by pure, cornered terror, his hands stopped shaking just long enough to pull the trigger of his crossbow.
The silver-tipped bolt streaked through the dead, frozen air directly toward my chest. I didn't move. I didn't have to. As the projectile entered the six-foot radius of the void radiating from my body, the kinetic energy simply died. The bolt didn't hit me; it lost all momentum, falling harmlessly into the black sludge forming at my feet.
The hollow hunger inside me screamed for more.
I raised my hand, and the two massive shadow hounds let out blood-curdling shrieks. The dark, shifting smoke that made up their bodies began to unravel, pulled toward my open palms like ribbons of ink. They didn't just die; they were siphoned. Within seconds, the beast
