Daimon by DANIELLE BOLGER (my miracle luna book free read txt) 📕

voice boomed. He was right in from of me, but the low tones resonated from all directions. “To get to Rose, you must first beat me, but you are too weak. You never posed a threat.”

He never broke Rose's command because he could always kill you in a heartbeat, my internal snake voice hissed.

“You're wrong.” I did not intend for my words to come out as a whisper. “I am stronger now.”

Crunch. I felt a bone snap. I whimpered from the pain.

“Because of those daimon hearts you consumed?” When he laughed, it was comic book evil. “You think two have given you enough power to defeat me?” Another snap from my other shoulder and he continued his baritone taunt over the top of my groans. “You should try closer to fifty—that's how many I have had.”

Fifty? Where the hell does he even find fifty daimons to kill in the first place? Crunch went a couple more bones.

As if in response to my unspoken question, Smoke replied, “Rose allows me to feed on the failures. Just between you and me, the daimon flesh is much tastier than human.”

That explained the power difference.

I spat in the darkness, and yelled in defiance. “I've conquered unbeatable odds before, I can do it again.”

There was a rumble of laughter.

“Enough chit-chat, but you'll find plenty of others to talk to when I consume your essence, adding it to the others.”

He released one of my shoulders, and an instant later I felt a warm foreign body invade my chest. It cut easily through my ribcage, and drove itself in.

As I felt that sickening invasive hand wrap around my heart, time froze for a moment. My life didn't flash before my eyes, it was just a feeling—a picture—one where I sat bolt upright in bed after a nightmare. My father had come in after hearing my whimpers. I told him it was the boogieman, and that I saw him, my father, shake the dark man's hand. I didn't know what it was about in my dream, but I could be sure that some terrible business transaction took place. My father told me to harden up, that there was a lot more to be fearful of in this world, and if I cried about that, I would cry about anything. How could I save the city if I could not save myself in my dreams? My father did not realize that it was not me that I was crying for, but for him. It was silly really, but at the time I was sure. My father was treading a dark path, one that would soon consume him.

In the same moment, Smoke's hand remained wrapped crudely around my heart, smothering it in his oversized appendage. I felt him begin to retract his hand.

Harden the fuck up, Jane!

Using my freed arm, I shaped my hand into a knife and shot into Smoke's forearm. I punched a hole into that wide stone, causing him to reflexively drop his hold. My heart was free from his grasp, for now.

Grasping the hand still held onto my shoulder, I pivoted off it, swung my legs inside, leaped off his massive chest, and dove backward.

His surprise granted me the time to enable my escape, but as soon as I landed on my feet, many meters away, there he was again, inches from my face.

Smoke’s fist, as wide as my skull, shot at me like a bullet. Knowing the brute's strength, I strained with every effort to dodge the attack as his hand flew through my blown hair, and scraped against the top of my head.

I ducked further, overcompensating, proving to be a grave mistake. He lifted a knee to connect with my petite jaw. With a loud snap, I knew my mandible was broken. Though it only connected at the front, the force of his blow penetrated to the sides of my jaw and caused parallel fractures.

I did not have time to scream aloud, or more accurately, the state of my facial bones rendered that too difficult. Instead, I recoiled further, using the momentum to flip backward, screaming inside all the while. When I finally landed, I was barely gifted a moment to reset my mouth into its correct position before Smoke's onslaught continued.

Impenetrable. Nobody would be capable of defeating such a massive beast. In this darkness, and with his unbelievable strength, there was no hope that anyone could ever succeed. I heard him, smelled him—definitely felt him—but there was no chance of seeing him. Without the possibility of dodge and counter, one could never succeed against this foe. He had all the strength, and I had nothing to contend with it.

There he was again, felt before heard, as a hook threw me off my feet and sent me flying into the chapel wall. Both his feet landed down on my beaten torso, driving the wind out of me at once. Bile rose into my mouth, and this I projected. Then, with a calculated guess, I threw a foot right through the air above where Smoke's feet rested. It connected and with a pleasing squelch, crushing the only soft part of Smoke's body.

I took great pleasure at the sound of his anguished cries. Smoke fell off me at once, and I sensed through the darkness that he was clutching his groin.

I swung a roundhouse kick toward his whimpers, but to my astonishment, he caught my leg mid-air and threw me into the wall like he was swinging a bat. With his other hand, he stabbed deep into my belly, causing the blackness to spin.

Just as I was done caressing my gut, he was upon me again, with an uppercut to the right side of my ribs. Then he landed a hook to my face, shattering my cheekbone and sending me to the wooden floor, splinters flying about in tow.

I made to get up, but I was greeted with three strong jabs to the jaw. This time, I knew it was broken beyond a quick reset.

I gurgled my protest. Smoke laughed. It was uncanny how similar it sounded to a villain’s in a child’s animated movie. The difference was his was slower, more indulgent, and required no special speaker to have his tone tremble the very ground you rested on.

Then the palm of his hand covered my entire face and drove my head deep into the broken floorboards. Pinned down, I knew what was coming, but was too weak to react.

I closed my eyes in submission.

I heard Zach again, screaming out to me: Catwoman doesn't take any shit from Bane. She's too smart, too cunning. Use your senses, girl.

Then somehow, with my eyes closed, I saw that fist plough forward again; striking at the healing cavity in my chest, ready to reopen the wound and take out its prize so fast that its host would not be able to retaliate this time. I saw this happen before it did.

I rolled to the side. Thump! Smoke's hand shot into the wood and fragments were sent flying through the air. One or two grazed my cheek, causing fresh blood to line my flesh. Smoke's roar made the wood beneath us tremble.

Then I could feel something emanate through the darkness. Between the tiny molecules of the air was a weight, the touch of which spurred a slight tingle. It originated from a single source; one that was right in front of me, and it was growing stronger as it rushed toward my skull.

I turned back the other way, just in time, and dodged another fist as it slammed into the ground. Then it was there again, the rippling force building pressure at my skull.

I rolled as this entity neared me; all the while, Smoke's power strokes plummeted into the floor, sprinkling us both with fragments of wood. Finding my feet, I leapt away and closed my eyes.

I could make out his form, composed of twinkling sparks. There was something radiating from him, rolling off him in virulent waves. It was not something new either, for I had sensed something roll off me with my fights with Freddie and Sage. It had been for just a moment, and the quantity paled when compared to this. It was energy of some sort, the embodiment of power. As I saw these lights pour from my foe, in my mind's eyes, I could not help but shiver from their electricity.

Where there is smoke, there's fire, a nagging voice whispered inside me. If his power is so great that it leaks this densely off him, then what is the full extent of that deathly force? It was not a happy thought, but at least I could gain one thing from all this—Smoke suddenly became visible.

He came at me again, and I could see that twinkling mass rushing forward, his hand outstretched, glowing fiercely bright. It made for my face; I sidestepped and missed its concentrated center. However, some of the glowing debris caught my cheek and left a searing imprint.

He attacked again, desperate to land a hit. Even dodging, I could still feel something pull at the skin of my face; like claws had shot out from his bright hands and were just preening for the chance to rip at my flesh.

The next one I ducked, and I could smell a slight burning hint as his hand brushed through my hair. I made my own fist, and ploughed it deep into his belly. As I did, I was pleasantly shocked by the glow of my own limb, but the pleasantries stopped there.

In one smooth motion, Smoke reached down with his hand and caught mine before I could even make a dent. His glowing increased as he squeezed, and I shrieked with pain.

There was no way he could have seen what I was doing in this complete blackness, not unless he saw me with another sense. You've only just caught on, but he's been able to see you this whole time, my internal voice hissed.

So, he’s always had advantage over me, until now…

I threw out another hand, readying it to slice right through his outstretched wrist, my limb glowing brilliantly. At once, he caught this, raised a twinkling leg, and kicked me in the solar plexus with the heel of his foot. Only one hand released and forced crude oversized knuckles into my chin, before tossing me into the air, causing me to slam the back of my head on the roof. I landed limply to the ground like a rag-doll, and felt my body's glow dim.

“Pitiful,” Smoke assessed, his voice still bouncing from all directions. His twinkling mass could be seen hovering right over the top of me. It was difficult to maintain this view of him, my inner eye’s sight dwindling, as he launched down on me, throwing a barrage of fresh blows. The appearance of those bright limbs shuddered.

After a few minutes he stopped, raised his form high over me; the tower of particles skipping around excitedly, leaking from him and flicking over to me. I could almost hear their whispers, their giddiness for the anticipated carnage of Smoke finishing me off.

The room spun, the embers flittered around like fairies, blinking in and out of existence. I realized, dismally, that I was losing sight of them.

I spat blood to the side and started laughing.

“You find your imminent death amusing?” Smoke enquired.

“No,” I husked back. “I'm just imaging how glorious it will be when I kill you. Your underestimation of me is what will defeat you.”

“Is that right?” This was the first time I witnessed his amusement. It was going to be the last.

“Yeah. You see, you're stronger than me, but I've worked out how to be faster than you.”

He puffed air from his nostrils. “Fool, you're already dead.”

Those fluttering specks of light, turning off and on, shot back down and glowed ethereally bright. One collective shot out with such brilliance that the particles swelled and connected so that a solid fist came into view. It punched downward, hands opened and fingers formed into blades, ready to cut and pierce my flesh one last time.

Smiling, I felt blood drip from my cracked lips. The rest of me remained motionless, devoid of energy; my eyes remained peacefully shut as I waited for Smoke's final death strike.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My head was turned toward the long corridor. When I first came, chin held high above shaking legs, I recognized a beautifully somber room. The soft golden candlelight illuminating pews and religious texts stationed on top of stands. It also showed the intricate craftsmanship etched