The giant was huddled against the ground, the death dealers taking shelter in the trees. Her heart fluttered with fear, but she didn't move, not caring what happened now that Darkyn was gone.
Lightning struck closer, causing the tree nearest her to explode. The debris was swept up by the wind before it reached her. The storm took on a more ominous look, that of a black hole sucking up everything in its path.
Tears flowed down her face. Deidre watched the world being ripped a part around her and hunched over Darkyn's body, waiting for the storm to take her as well.
I'm giving you Hell, love. No part of her cared to run Hell, but she couldn't help wondering what he meant or why it filled her with doom.
Lightning smashed too close, and she closed her eyes once more, praying she went quickly.
One moment, the storm raged around her. The next, her body was pierced by light and pain so intense, she was thrown away from Darkyn. Hot electricity paralyzed her while the cold fire of the Dark One raced along her nerve endings, torturing and teasing, intense and overwhelming. Frozen in agony, she stared at the sky above, watching as bolts of lightning smashed into her and the clouds grew darker, larger.
Just as abruptly as it started, the sensations left. The lightning retreated to the sky and ceased, while the gathering storm remained, swirling around the black hole at its center.
Deidre gasped in breath, the hot-cold power racing through her body. She sagged, uncertain if she was grateful to be alive or disturbed she hadn't joined Darkyn in death. The thrum of cold power she'd sensed before was stronger, wrapping around her, flowing through her, tugging at her to rise.
With some effort, she did so and stared up at the horrifying tornado forming above. The cold tendril of power was like smoke extending from the dark clouds in the sky. It wrapped around her shoulders, and she began to comprehend.
I'm giving you Hell, love.
The storm wasn't a threat to her. It was an extension of Hell, created by the depravity existing in the underworld and feeding her power and strength.
Deidre looked down at her hands, not wanting to believe what had happened. Her nails were long and black, her hands still small and delicate like a human's. The pouch at her waist caught her attention, and she pulled it free. Inside were the souls of Gabriel, past-Death and one more that Fate had provided her.
Gabriel and past-Death.
She looked up at the sky again. Darkyn's soul had to be here, in the underworld.