Page 187 of Serpent and Shadow

Malefic moved too, but not fast enough. Part of the spell caught his artificial arm, and that elbow and bicep got smacked sideways. He let out a pained gasp. His knife hand and the dagger itself were both forced off me, at least for now. He hissed in fury even as his metal arm went limp, right before the dagger left his white fingers.

He dove for it, and snatched it back up.

I watched as he aimed stared at his artificial arm. He stumbled out a series of complicated-sounding phrases I guessed were meant to heal the broken parts from the spell, including the line of blood running down his shoulder and over the silver metal.

He couldn’t seem to get those spells out right, either.

A gold-green cloud ran up his arm, but it didn’t seem to do anything.

Spitting in fury, he threw a blue-green ball of magic outside the circle. That time, he managed to make contact; the fiery ball slammed into a form to the right of the fireplace.

Hermione thought it looked like Orrin Senior, Christian’s father.

Whoever it was, he screamed, and fell into one of the Hall’s massive fireplaces.

Malefic’s arm continued to run with blood down to his fingers. He’d switched dagger hands after the failed spells, and now blood covered his good arm, as well.

He staggered back up to his feet.

He loomed over me again.

My crawling had only gotten me to the edge of the innermost circle, and when I glanced back, I saw his pupils contract and dilate unevenly. The dagger remained tightly gripped in his good hand as he stumbled and staggered towards me.

Then the fingers of his free hand were wrapped around my throat.

He snarled, teeth bared, into my face.

“Your filthy, disgusting, mongrel blood has poisoned me,” he hissed, spitting the words. “You’ve defiled your blood even more and fed it to me!” He spat into my face, and I gasped out a horrified cry at the nearness of his silver eyes and bared teeth.

He shook me by the throat, roughly.

“How do I get it out?” he screeched. “How do I get it out of me?”

I couldn’t pull in a breath to speak. I couldn’t raise my hands to pry his fingers from my throat. I doubted anything I said would have mattered, but if he’d wanted a real answer, he’d made it impossible for me to give him one.

He shook me by the throat again, harder.

It felt like he might crush every bone in my neck.

“Tell me, or I will remove your spine and take it to my dungeon and beat your disgusting mongrel brother to death with it…” he shrieked. “I’ll let my followers defile your husband in ways you cannot possibly imagine! I’ll chain him to the floor and make him my slave––”

His fingers clamped harder. Spots began to dance in front of my eyes.

He shook me violently.

“Take it out of me!” he screamed louder. “Take it out of me! Or I’ll disembowel him and make you eat his entrails while he lives––”

He jerked my throat back and forth. His fingers tightened like iron bands.

I couldn’t breathe…

I couldn’t breathe…

I tried to think, but his words kept repeating as he shook me again.

I was starting to gray out.

I could feel myself losing consciousness. Survival instinct kicked in, and tried to stop the fall before I gave up the ghost totally. I writhed her body back as far as I could and bucked, trying to free herself… but he was strong, and I… well, I wasn’t. Not right now.