Kindred of the Fallen by Isis Rushdan

substitute for the tight circle nine would have made—each one slid their fulcrix from shoulder to hand. The flexible metal was easy to wield and could lacerate the skin of a Kindred warrior, since it was made of barenpetium and not steel.
    Cyrus cracked his whip, drawing the beast’s attention.
    The mirror smashed against the floor. Snarling, the afflicted warrior craned its head toward the snapping sound of the fulcrix . The poor lighting and NVGs distorted the details of the beast’s face and the monochromatic hue washed out the blood red eyes Cyrus preferred not to see. One more layer of emotional distance he’d give thanks for when this was done.
    Spero’s whip popped against the floor, resounding like a bullet. The beast wheeled around in response, hunched with arms hanging out wide. Its fingernails had stretched to claws, another unnatural mutation that occurred once they entered the final stage of sangre saevitas .
    Next, Micah snapped his fulcrix and the beast’s head twisted toward the noise.
    They each took turns whirling the metal in the air and cracking it against the floor, steadily increasing their tempo to keep the beast disoriented and distracted. The staccato beats melded into a kind of music that made Cyrus’s heart heavy.
    Spero twined the whip around the beast’s outstretched arm. Micah went to do the same, but missed, lashing it instead.
    Ignoring the sting of metal, the beast reeled Spero in as it jolted at him.
    Cyrus winded the fulcrix around the thing’s calf and pulled in the opposite direction, while Micah flogged the creature across the back and legs with ferocious speed.  
    Damn blood rage made it faster and stronger. They only succeeded in slowing the thing down.
    The beast caught Spero by the neck. Cyrus tightened the tether around its calf and yanked. Metal cut into the flesh and blood streaked down the leg.
    Micah charged with a drawn blade, but the beast ducked, keeping a lock on Spero’s jugular. A monochromatic blur, the next movement was so quick. The creature knocked Micah with its arm, sending him flailing backward.
    Spero stabbed the beast’s chest and arms with a dagger. Bat wings flapped, creating billows of smoke, and the thing took to the air with Spero.
    With a flick of the wrist, Cyrus freed his whip. He twirled it in the air and thrashed the wings. Blow after blow he unleashed, racing against the beast’s ascent.
    One bloody wing dropped to the floor. A howl cut through the room as the creature plummeted.
    Micah recovered and dove in, but the beast snatched him from the air and threw him into Spero, leaving both warriors dazed.
    Choking on smoke, heart thundering, Cyrus rushed over. He kept the flick of his whip between him and the beast. The creature looked back at the other warriors, as if reconsidering who to attack. Cyrus tore at the beast’s flesh. He lacerated the face and flayed the chest, keeping its attention duly focused.
    The beast stormed forward, unhindered by the blows, and tackled him.
    Momentum carried them into the air, smashing through a wall.
    Pain exploded, sunbursts of spikes in his head and back. Rubble beneath him and the beast growling on top, Cyrus wrestled to keep the thing’s snapping jowls from taking a chunk out of him. Drool dripped on his cheek and ran down his neck.
    His muscles shook, straining to hold it at bay. A hiss roared in his ear. Hot, putrid breath bore down on his face.
    Immense weight was lifted from him as Spero and Micah yanked the beast off. The warriors dragged the creature back, kicking and thrashing. The beast dug its claws into Micah’s leg, causing the warrior to trip, and the three toppled to the floor.
    Cyrus sucked in a breath, collecting his wits.
    The room swam in a murky haze.
    The creature had hold of a sandstone obelisk. A priceless piece of art, worthy of showcase in a museum, that Jude had loved. The beast slammed the obelisk into Micah’s chest, then swung it like a baseball bat and sent Spero sailing