One womb, one soul, two fates. One will rise. One will fall.
Shura and Jin are the last of a divine bloodline, operating at the bloodiest fringes of society where they wield might and magic against the demons they are sworn to destroy. For Shura, itâs the only way to restore honor to her lineage and claim her rightful place in the world. For Jin, itâs a matter of begrudging dutyâand escaping the influence of the three kings vying for control of the continent.
In their pursuit of the sadistic cult behind the demonsâ resurgence, the twins find themselves hunted by an ancient demon harboring a blood vendetta, and are forced to set aside past grudges and seek the kingsâ alliance. When Shura discovers a chilling prophecy, she fears that even her newfound allies may not be enough to stem the rising tide of shadow.
Even the palest chance of victory will come at a brutal price. But the prophecy never foretold whose fate would settle the debt: Shura's or her brother's.
One womb, one soul, two fates. One will rise. One will fall.
Shura and Jin are the last of a divine bloodline, operating at the bloodiest fringes of society where they wield might and magic against the demons they are sworn to destroy. For Shura, itâs the only way to restore honor to her lineage and claim her rightful place in the world. For Jin, itâs a matter of begrudging dutyâand escaping the influence of the three kings vying for control of the continent.
In their pursuit of the sadistic cult behind the demonsâ resurgence, the twins find themselves hunted by an ancient demon harboring a blood vendetta, and are forced to set aside past grudges and seek the kingsâ alliance. When Shura discovers a chilling prophecy, she fears that even her newfound allies may not be enough to stem the rising tide of shadow.
Even the palest chance of victory will come at a brutal price. But the prophecy never foretold whose fate would settle the debt: Shura's or her brother's.
The ache in Shuraâs temples flared hot and sharp.
Her blood tingled with anticipation, an itch she couldnât scratch. Feng, eight hundred pounds of feline muscle and shock-white fur, sniffed at the breeze as it brushed at the pines dotting the hillside. He let a growl trickle from his throat. They were close to their prey.
Shura eased her net-cannon from her back and held it at the ready, its familiar weight an anchor for her nerves. She had spent half the night wondering if they had taken on more than they could handle, if this was the night sheâd get somebody killed. It would almost be a relief when the fight began.
Her finger settled on the trigger, steady. The shrubbery beside the path rustled as if the countryside was warning them away. Wallace jumped at the sound and bumped into Jin.
âWatch where the fuck youâre going,â her twin brother hissed. Jinâs broadsword gleamed dully in the moonlight, the blade a hand-breath wide and five feet long. Far too heavy a weapon for most men to wield, but the width of Jinâs back and the knotted strength in his forearms, thickly twisted like the mooring lines of a ship, made such a feat look frighteningly easy.
Wallace swallowed hard. âSorry.â
Shura pitied him. Soft brown eyes wide and alert, fingers shaking as they fumbled over the arrows in his quiver. It was understandable. He was only fifteen and hadnât been hunting demons nearly as long as the rest of them. Still, he had his uses.
Wallace finally managed to nock an arrow. âWhereââ
âShut up.â Jin inched forward, eyes on the bend ahead. The path snaked between the hills, winding back upon itself every thirty yards or so. Blind spots everywhere, the perfect place for an ambush. Where chĆ«nari were concerned, an ambush was often fatal.
Feng padded along beside her, silent as smoke on the wind. Shura scanned the shadow-soaked landscape, the hulking silhouettes of the hills beside them, the pinprick lights of the village in the valley below. Her temples flared again, the itch in her blood spiked violently, and then she saw them.
The chĆ«nari came slithering out of the shrubbery, two on either side. Human-sized serpents with womenâs heads, horrifying visages of glittering green eyes and poison-coated fangs. Two stunted arms protruded from their torsos, far stronger than they appeared, and from their tails sprouted a stinger sharp enough to punch through armor.
Wallace wheeled on the spot and let fly before he had sighted properly. The arrow flew wide. Shura grimaced and leveled her net cannon. She set her legs, braced for the kick, and squeezed the trigger. The blast set her ears ringing and sent a shock through her gut, but the weighted net flew true.
The closest chĆ«nari collapsed to the ground and rolled down the hillside, flopping madly with the net tangled around her. Feng leapt clear over the flailing demon and buried the second beneath his bulk. Jin waded in among the other two on the opposite side, a bellow erupting from his lungs that sent a chill down Shuraâs spine.
âShoot her!â Shura cried to Wallace, pointing at the trapped chĆ«nari. The other had its tail free, poised to strike at Feng with that lethal stinger. Shura reached within, past the stabbing in her temples, the frenzied itch in her blood and the hammering of her heart, and let loose.
A day-bright wave of radiance blasted from her body, searing through the darkness. Only the demons remained cloaked in shadow, charcoal silhouettes that no light could touch, now recoiling blindly. Shuraâs eyes stung at the sudden glare, but she forced them open. Jin cut one of the chĆ«nari nearly in half, shearing through armored scale, muscle, and bone, then lost his weapon as the dying demon thrashed about with the blade stuck between her ribs.
Fengâs chĆ«nari let loose an agonized shriek as he tore an arm loose with his teeth and gouged at her face with a paw the size of a cannonball. The stinger came down and grazed the tigerâs flank as he twisted aside to bite at the demonâs neck.
Shura whipped a single-shot, black-powder pistol from the back of her belt, one of two, and cocked the hammer. The stinger came up again. A steady breath out, a squeeze of the trigger, and the chĆ«nariâs tail spasmed wildly as the ball of lead blew a bloody, ragged hole through her flesh.
Pulling the second pistol from her belt, Shura leveled it and pulled the trigger. The chĆ«nariâs tail went limp, then she twitched her last as Feng ripped a chunk of sinew from her neck. Feng let out a whine and staggered down the hillside until he keeled over on the path. His flank glistened with blood, a red smear against the snow of his coat. Shura glanced over her shoulder, first to where Wallace had emptied half his quiver into the chĆ«nari held under the net, then over to Jin on the other side of the path.
He had caught hold of the last demonâs tail, holding the stinger at bay a foot from his face, his other hand wrapped around her throat and a knee planted on her torso. Her two strong, spindly arms pried at Jinâs wrist, loosening his grip on her throat, and then her head shot forward to bite down on Jinâs fist.
His face twisted in pain as a guttural groan escaped through his teeth. Wallace pulled an arrow from his quiver, but Shura unsheathed the katana on her hip and sprinted to her brotherâs aid, shouting for Wallace not to shoot.
âAlright thenââ Jin shoved his fist down the demon's throat. Her eyes bulged as her mouth was forced wider by the mass of his forearm. She clamped down harder, tracing bloody streaks up his flesh. Jin yanked on her tail and pulled her taut like a bowstring as he forced his arm further down her gullet, working against the combined effort of her own two arms. His veins stood out like cords, his forehead slick with sweat, face a portrait of anguish.
Shura raised her blade. âHold still!â
She slashed down from overhead, a perfect strike. The keen-edged metal sliced through the chƫnari's upper arm and sent a glut of blood surging from the stump. She shrieked and thrashed, livid with pain. Jin struggled to his feet and stomped on her tail.
"Come on,â he growled as he pried away inside her throat. Shura pivoted to the chĆ«nariâs tail stretched tight between Jin's foot and fist, and hacked away until the stinger detached in another sheet of blood.
Shura turned toward the demonâs head, but there was no need. Jin yanked viciously at her insides as she struggled in vain, choking on his arm. Jin punctuated each tug with a grunted curse, dark eyes manic with hateful intent.
âUglyâŠfuckingâŠwhore!â The sound of ripping tissue reached Shuraâs ears, sick and wet and fleshy, then his arm burst free, a trail of viscera dangling from his fist. The chĆ«nari gasped out a death rattle and collapsed to the blood-slick grass.
Jin discarded the mess and took stock of his wounds. The jagged cuts went up to his elbow, deep and dark with welling blood. The white of bone shone dully where his hand had been ripped open. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Shura glanced back at Feng on the path, breathing laboriously. Wallace knelt beside the tiger, one hand on his heaving flank. "Is he going to die?" he asked.
She did her best to stem the guilt welling in her gut, only partially succeeding. Feng had never failed to protect her. She should have drawn quicker, shot quicker. All she could do now was try to save her friend.
"Maybe notâshe only grazed him. But heâll need some help.â
"You plan on carrying him back to town?" Jin fell back against the hillside, clutching his arm. His rugged features, as if carved from a block of iron, had gone pale and sweaty. He was in for a rough night, but he would live. Whether it was due to their ShikĆken lineage or some remarkable innate fortitude, Jin had always proved quite difficult to kill.
Shura ignored him. When it came to killing, Jin was peerless, but he wasnât much good for anything else. âWallace, leave your pack and go. Tell them what happened.â
With little more than a parting nod, Wallace shucked his pack to the ground and tore off into the night on long, lanky legs. The sound of his boots against the dirt faded, faded, leaving her and her headache, Jin and Feng, the crickets and the crows, and the mess of dark-red demon blood smeared across the gently-waving grass.
Shura and Jin are the last of the ShikĆken, legendary warriors who were born to fight off the demons that terrorize the kingdoms and villages of ancient Japan. With a long line of warriors in their ancestry, the twin demon hunters have been handed an impossible task: protect innocent civilians in the path of destruction, eliminate the cult slaughtering villages, and kill the demon who is the target of their worship. The twinâs usual way of life with Jin as the brawn and Shura as the brain begins to unravel as the pressure of their mission and increasingly costly battles weighs them down, pushing them both to a breaking point.
This book holds no punches when it comes to graphic descriptions of intense battle and the physical and mental horrors that go along with it. Underneath the back-to-back fight sequences is a surprisingly poignant exploration of people who have been molded from childhood into perfect tools rather than actual functioning humans. While twins, Jin and Shura are completely different from each other. Shura is the level-headed, smart, sister. Jin is the brash, unfeeling, warrior brother. But as the story goes on their true colors are revealed and begin to tell an entirely different story. At times the violence and the gore became almost gratuitous and started to overshadow the underlying plot and character arcs that were being built. This is also a book that hits its stride relatively late because the beginning struggles to fully establish the background of the story, the motivations of the characters, and the true overarching plot. There were times where the story jumps very abruptly from the end of one battle scene to the immediate set up for the next which left parts of the story feeling disconnected. However, the battles, the combat, and the atmosphere of despair and defeat are all very well written and the characters (while not always likeable or good people) make reading this book more than worth the read.
This would be a good book for anyone who enjoys stories that are primarily focused on action packed battle sequences, who wonât balk at intense descriptions of gore and other potentially triggering subjects related to battles/war, and who might enjoy reading about characters marching towards their downfall.