The demons paused, confusion temporarily replacing the thirst on their ugly faces. The gleam in their black eyes dimmed; the pupils dilated.

Tora rose with deliberation until she sat straight up. The creatures melted backwards until they sat on their haunches, the stalks and eyes fixed upon her. Tora's tension ebbed. She lifted one smooth, leathery hand and plucked out the glass shards that were buried in her flesh. The one in her stomach exited with a sucking noise. Blood continued to pump out, viscous and sticky.

In a flash, her free hand snatched a demon from nearby. She sank her fangs into it. It squealed, but that soon stopped. Hot bodily fluid flooded Tora's tongue, satiating her aching taste buds. She tore at the flesh, chugging down the blood and chewing the meat. Her stomach churned with glee. Energy flooded through her body as though waking her from a century-long coma.  It was long after the demon finished twitching did she throw the remaining away with a satisfied sigh. The bundle of sinews and long legs landed with a splat amongst the other demons.

In the gaping wounds, flesh knitted themselves back together. Blood vessels, nerves, muscles, and tendons sprouted, layering upon each other in a pristine fashion until nothing remained that suggested there was any injury. Glass fell like pieces of crystal, scattering light. The pooled blood soaked into her torn clothes.

Tora licked her lips, picking the last traces of metallic delight.

Desist.

Even though she emitted no sound, the word resonated in her mind and she knew all the demons could feel it. A hush fell on the previously noisy shopping centre.

Tora stood on muscular, lean legs, her tail swishing. The air crackled with static. Her ears picked up the murmur of shocked voices from other floors. It was so quiet she could pick up even the Seekers' bated breaths.

Retreat.

Claws clapped on tiled surfaces overhead. The creatures around her rose to their feet and, in single file and with eyes lowered, moved out of the shop floor. They vanished round the corner and then there was only silence

Tora flexed her neck left and right, feeling the muscles clench and unclench and the bones align. She'd never felt so alive. Power rippled from her inside down her core, through each limb, and almost crackled at the tips of her talons. Everything came in breath-taking detail, from the gleam of tiny glass shards buried in the dusty carpet to the spider's string lurking in the corner of the ceiling to a strand of hair curled beside the door. She could see everything.

And the smell. Even though the dead demons had vaporised into the air, the enticing trace of it sent her senses into a flurry. Saliva filled her mouth. Coupled with the pumping hearts and shallow breaths from above and below, she could barely contain herself. Prey.

A subtle movement in the darkness behind her broke her trail of thoughts. She stiffened, eyes glowing. Licking her lengthened canines, she turned slowly.

A dark shape emerged. She pounced, an animalistic snarl erupting from her mouth.

The newcomer moved, silent as the shadows. The two collided in a mass of limbs and demonic cries before crashing to the floor. The whole shop shook. Award shields and decorations fell off the walls.  Claws raked down thick leather-like skin, spilling black tarry blood, which sprayed onto the walls and ceiling.

Tora tore at the creature. The skin was thicker than armour, the sinews tougher than wrought iron. Guttural sounds emanated from her throat. She could barely see through the low lighting but it didn't matter; the sounds of heavy breathing and the tingling in the hairs on her skin told her exactly what she needed to know. Bones cracked as they wrestled. The shooting agony made little difference to Tora's bloodlust. Her eyes glowed. Exhilaration poured through her veins, fuelling her excitement.

Her mouth wide open and fangs glistening, she aimed straight for the throat. The target moved; the impact of her teeth on hard bone rattled her skull. He shifted like water, slipping behind her and raked claws down her back. She shrieked. She spun around. He clamped her to the floor. Saliva dripped onto her face. Hot breath danced on her cheeks.

She shoved and rolled. He tumbled away. Landing on her feet, Tora sprung again. Claws followed each attempts at ripping his face off. All the while, roars echoed off the walls. She straightened up. Two large limbs clamped onto her shoulders, forcing her onto her knees. She jumped forward, ramming her shoulder into his chest. Air tore out of his chest, forcing him to cough in a harsh tone.

Her head danced in front of his, each fighting to get their jaws around the other's throat. Sharp talons left gashes down chests, blood pooling on the floor like lakes of ink. Blood filled her nose, mouth, eyes. Adrenaline pounded through her body; blood drummed against her ears. Pain punctuated each gasp of breath and swallow of blood. Everything else in the background became an insignificant blur.

Eventually, he broke off, huffing and trembling from the injuries. Tora backed away on all fours, her muscles twinging and tears and blood burning her eyes. The blood on the floor sucked at her feet. Her ears rang, useless for the rest of the battle. She could still make out his shape – long-limbed, lithe, and built of pure power. Golden eyes glowed at her.

He lurched forward. Tora met him head-on. They smashed together, ripping, tearing, snarling. Blood gushed from orifices. Stars exploded across her eyes when a particularly savage swipe caught her at her temple. The world spun on its axis. Something heavy crushed her legs as it landed. She screamed.

The attacker dived forward, death in its eyes. Tora saw the window. She flung the top half of her body away. His death-dealing snap missed. She flung herself back, throwing him off her, and pinned his arms down. Sweat dripped off her body, mixing with the blood. Her mouth stretched on either side, bearing more teeth. Success had never tasted sweeter.

He thrashed, hissing. A pool of his blood mixed with hers. Fury burned in his eyes.

"Should I kill you now or should I wait for sentiments to be exchanged?" Her voice was penetrating, piercing the darkness with every syllable.

The attacker stilled before a grin spread across his face.

"Dear sister," he croaked.

His skin rippled, replacing the dark leathery texture with soft human skin. Blood-soaked blonde hair stuck to his face. When he smiled, at least five teeth were missing. Blood continued to snake out of his nostrils and eyes. Beneath Tora's hands, his arm bones were broken, shattered. Her palms pressed through tissue straight onto the floor. He took in gasping breaths, looking like a broken rag doll.

She released him. Before her eyes, he shifted again. The humanoid features dissolved away, becoming dark and tough once more. The golden eyes remained unchanged, although the pupils elongated vertically, leaving slits behind. Wounds knitted back together. Blood stopped oozing. The bones cracked as they lengthened, building up the matrix and strengthening its surface. His voice was full of anticipation.

"And now, you."

Tora eyed him, wary.

"Shift – or you'll bleed to death."

She closed her eyes and imagined her human form. Tall, thin, dark brown hair. A broody expression. Weak-looking spindly limbs. Disgruntled blue eyes. Peculiar human expressions. Her skin bubbled before smoothing over like jelly. She didn't need to look to confirm she had returned to her human form. Almost like second nature, the warmth took over again without beckoning and when she opened her eyes once more, pristine leathery skin covered her head to toe. The congealed pool of blood soaking her bare feet, immersing into her talons, was all that remained from their battle. The process left her mind feeling floppy, strained. Ragged breaths decorated the quietness.

"You're exhausted. You've not eaten in moons."

Tora said nothing.

"I've come to see you many a time. It's not been easy."

Despite the fatigue, a sneer curled Tora's lips – or where her lips would have been, had she any.

"You were always the compassionate one."

"You laugh, sister, but much has changed since you were... gone."

"Oh?" A hint of curiosity seeped into her icy voice.

"The Shifter Empire has increased on a greater scale than ever before. We overlap realms with the Frostites now."

Tora said nothing, but her eyes gleamed with a mix of delight and surprise.

"As we speak, the Specktacles are on the brink of extinction." Cimerus couldn't suppress a grin. "I suspect they are merely on the brink rather than long extinct is because Piricca loves to tear their wings off and watch their glitter."

"Piricca." The word danced like a family name on her tongue. "Much has changed, you said, yet you still mention the bloodthirsty one."

"It pleases her. And if my generals are happy, it makes expansion of the Empire all the smoother."

"Your generals?" Tora remembered when father, with his eyes set on the conquest of the Sentinels and excessive paranoia of a coup, would crush any and everyone who dared to suggest his underlings had any other ties but to him. He was justice. He was God. "What does father have to say about that?"

"Nothing at all." Cimerus's voice remained unchanged. "Father is dead."

Astonishment broke Tora's impartial mask. Her pupils snapped onto her brother's face.

"So this is why you are here to converse instead of kill me."

"I never sought to kill you, Lilitha. That was all Father."

"And yet you stood and did nothing to prevent my exile."

Cimerus's jaw tightened.

"What could I have done? Father was everything. I was nothing. Biding my time was the only thing I could do to get you back – and even that wasn't easy."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"How long do you think it has been, sister?"

Tora stared at him. What a bizarre question. It seemed only yesterday she was brought before the throne with its never-ending sky of blackness and smoke emanating from the skulls decorating the seat, and father, with his multiple flaming eyes and crushing presence, presiding over her sentence – with him as the only judge and jury, of course. Exile, for eternity.

And then what? She racked her brain. It responded, albeit sluggishly. Pain, darkness, despair.

"Not even one moon."

The look her brother gave her was almost sympathetic.

"Four red moons, Lilitha."

She uttered a Shifter curse word, feeling the pit of her full stomach drop. Her tail swished again.

"No wonder you've made such progress in our world."

"Killing father was the least I could do to get you back."

Her eyes flashed.

"I promised."

"Then... Marastema? Lukin?"

"Marastema was killed shortly after father sent you away."

Tora's heart – the main one – palpated. Her second-best general was erased, just like her. A speck of dust.

"And Lukin?"

"We know nothing of his whereabouts. Father has done a wonderful job of ensuring his imprisonment is somewhere equally harsh and impossible to find. We are still searching."

Of course. Lukin knew her too well, was too loyal, too powerful. Father couldn't kill him, even if he'd wanted to. No doubt Tora's best had been tortured for all the moons she was gone, hoping for more insight as to how his daughter could have failed him so badly. Looking for weaknesses he could eradicate the next time he produced another heir. Probably also hoping to turn one of the most powerful demons in the realm into his underling instead of Tora's – but he would never understand Lukin's loyalty. Tora was silent for several seconds before she swished her tail again.

"So what now? I return to our realm with you?"

"Unless your itching travellers' feet has other plans..." Cimerus left the rest of the sentence hanging. A dark look crossed Tora's face. "Of course, now that Maraduc—"

"You wouldn't come all this way to tell me this." Her tone was sharp.

Cimerus bared his fangs in a grin.

"Well, it has been a delightful little game with these strange creatures."

"Humans?" Her mouth edges curled again. "Bland, helpless. Worse than the Furballs."

"Perhaps, but these particular ones strike my fancy."

"Shall we kill them?"

"Not yet. I think it will be nice to meet them."

"Nice." The word sounded foreign and sour on her tongue. She licked her fangs again. "I missed our trysts, Cimerus."

"I, too. Once this realm is ours, we can continue our realm's expansion – with you by my side."

"You are still continuing father's game."

"I have to. Power is what keeps the Shifters alive. You were too carefree to notice, but every world we annihilate we live for another moon. And with the Artefact ever elusive, we can't rest."

Tora let out a snort of contempt.

"That toy that still twists so many of the realms' most powerful around its little fingers."

"That toy was what you'd forsaken that got him killed."

She hissed, flame streaking up and down her back.

"You watch your tongue!"

Muscles rippled beneath her thick skin. Golden eyes glared daggers at her brother.

"He was innocent. He had nothing—"

She broke off. The sound of harried footsteps from the nearby stairs froze the two of them. Cimerus's eyes narrowed.

"It seems our time is now out. Come, sister. There is much to be—"

He broke off, spotting Tora's trembling form. Cold shivers covered her body. Her teeth chattered. The world swam in and out of focus.

"You haven't eaten in moons... Your body is on the verge of breakdown. I can't..."

White noise engulfed her ears. The warmth washed over Tora again. Her legs buckled beneath her and she was swallowed in darkness.

****

Damien skidded to a halt immediately after Markl, whose stiff form indicated that it was not all well and good. Damien adjusted his position, wincing as his dislocated and relocated shoulder threatened to slip out again and his fractured bones grated against each other. Wiping sweat out of his eyes and tugging uneasily at his drenched blonde hair, he let his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

It was chaos. Almost impossible to tell what kind of a shop it was before a storm struck, broken glass and merchandises littered the floor. Framed pictures and decorations on the wall were torn and dyed a disgusting sticky black. The burning stench of demons made Damien's nose scrunch up. The scent was so heavy he could almost taste it in the back of his throat.

That sensation turned bitter as his eyes focused on the shape collapsed at the far end of the unit.

Long tangled limbs, the skin unbroken and pristinely porcelain, lay stiller than a statue. A mass of dark curls covered her face, her modesty barely covered by shredded t-shirt and jeans. A viscous pool of black fanned around her.

"Tora." The word escaped his throat like a death whisper. His body temperature dropped to sub-zero. Oh god, what happened?

Beside him, Carlos shimmered into sight and swore at the sight.

"Is she dead?"

"Who the hell are you?" Ross shot out. Damien's eyes snapped back to the room. Markl still had his arms outstretched, half-shielding his team.

There was someone else there. Damien hadn't sensed his presence at all. A mop of golden hair covered most of his features. All around him, where the thoughts and memories should hover in normal living beings, there was only silence. Even shadows seemed to avoid him.

His very presence chilled Damien to the core.

Ross sucked in a breath.

"Stay back, guys," muttered Markl out of the corner of his mouth. Evidently he felt the darkness in this newcomer, too.

"It's that bastard from the roof!" Ross said in a furious whisper. "He's dangerous – be careful."

"What do you want?" Markl addressed the blonde man.

"What do I want?" The guy appeared almost amused, cocking his head to the side. His hawk-like eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Nothing from you, fascinating as you lot are."

"What did you do to Tora?"

"I did nothing." His mild voice could have been talking about the weather. "She's starting to realise what she truly is – that is all."

"What she truly is," repeated Ross under her breath. Damien's guts twisted at those words.

"There will be more trouble for you if you don't leave, right now, Shifter."

The man blinked, surprise piercing his laidback attitude for a fleeting moment. A delighted smile stretched across his face.

"I did wonder... of course! That's why you harboured such interest in her!"

"What are you talking about?" spat Ross, her fists curled. Damien's heart drummed against his ribs. Carlos looked as loss as he felt.

"Don't worry. She won't play by your game. Feel free to chance it. But your presence here means... ah."

"What the hell is he talking about?" said Carlos in a hushed tone.

Beats me, Damien thought back, not taking his eyes off the figure.

Chuckling, the guy kept his eyes fixed on Markl, who had gone white.

"We shall meet again."

Stepping back, he vanished into the shadows.

Remember to vote!