Free The Night Itself by Zoe Marriott

streets of London, and no one had noticed.
    “Give me the sword.” The creature was suddenly right before me. I hadn’t even seen it move. “I know you have it. You awakened me when you awakened it. It is Hers. Give it to me.” Black, jellylike tentacles reached out for my face.
    Something shoved me hard. I fell, and the tentacles closed on air.
    Jack hadn’t gone anywhere. She was stood directly in the monster’s path in a fighting stance, fists raised.
    “No!” This time my scream worked. But it was too late.
    The creature lashed out at Jack. Its tentacles thudded solidly into her midriff and swept her right off her feet. She went flying over my head and crashed into the rank of motorbikes parked behind me. They toppled like dominoes. Jack disappeared in the tangle of wheels and exhaust pipes.
    “Jack!” Terror for my best friend shredded my insides. I surged to my feet.
    A pair of tentacles shot in front of me, blocking my path. There was nowhere to go. The monster chuckled richly.
    “Help!” I yelled, stretching my hand out towards the street as if I could touch freedom. “Somebody
help
!”
    Sudden, almost painful heat pulsed against my spine. I heard fabric – my coat – tear. A shining black shape flashed over my head towards my open palm. I cringed and then gasped as a familiar silk-wrapped grip slapped into my hand. My fingers closed around it as naturally as if it were part of my own body. My katana.
    “Yes…” the monster hissed.
    Mine!
    I ripped the blade free of the saya and lunged at the creature in a wild, one-handed thrust. But I knew before the movement was half completed that it had no chance of connecting; Ojiichan would have despaired at the clumsiness of the strike. The creature billowed back unhurriedly, its body seeming to hollow out as it avoided the blade. I slashed desperately at its tentacles as they came near. It flicked them out of my reach. The extra limbs danced lazily in the air around me.
    “Dear, dear, dear,” it said, a deep chuckle grating through its teeth. “You’re one hundred years too early for that, little girl.”
    Like a monster in an anime
, I thought in dazed disbelief.
Is this really happening?
    With no warning, two of the black tails whipped forward and wrapped around my wrists. The cold, creeping sensation of the creature’s flesh on mine made my stomach roll, and I thrashed and struggled furiously, almost choking with panic.
Get it off, get it off, get it off!
    It was no good. I couldn’t budge the tails an inch.
    The creature’s face, which was growing more pointed and catlike as I watched – black-and-white fur sprouting around its eyes and mouth – drifted closer. The tentacles forced my arms up above my head so that the thing could peer at the katana.
    “Veiled. Hidden all away. No wonder my Mistress’s other servants have sought in vain. Oh, this will hurt,” the thing whispered to itself. “It will burn. But She will reward me.”
    Slowly, as if reluctant, another of the tails crept towards the katana. The tip of the black tail made contact with the metal and the cat-creature flinched. Then, in a swift movement, it wrapped the entire tentacle around the blade.
    A high, whistling noise, like pressurized steam escaping, filled the air. The tail touching the sword seemed to solidify, turning from jellyish black to dull brown marred with dozens of tiny cracks. The katana’s blade glowed red, then white-hot. My fingers, wrapped around the grip, felt nothing more than the sword’s normal pleasant warmth, but the monster was in agony. Its shadowy body writhed, head whipping from side to side. The tentacles that held me prisoner jerked and trembled.
    The whistling noise grew louder as the glow of the blade brightened. It was like a terrible, agonized version of the singing that I knew; a cry of pain. I could almost hear a voice in it, almost hear words in it. It was as if the sword was screaming my name. The sound rent through me and I struggled