Читать книгу Son of the Shadows - Nancy Holder - Страница 2

With Seeing altered by magic and pain, Jean-Marc saw flashes of black fangs, smoking horns and an enormous six-fingered scarlet hand, tipped with talons as sharp as scimitars, reaching for him. The stench assaulted him; sulfur and carrion, rotten blood, evil. The thing was Le Devourer, Lilliane’s demon patron. His hand closed around Jean-Marc’s soul, and its talons sliced through the radiant mass.

Jean-Marc rocketed past sanity from the violation. He had no thoughts, no emotions. He ceased, because being was too horrible. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know what he was.

But one thing remained: a woman’s name, and he shouted it with the voice of the possessed:

“Isabelle!”