The creature shrieked, sharp and angry. And then it jumped.
It bounded to the wall, between Keelin and Nyle. A black arm flew from the blanket, and struck Keelin across her face. She cried out as she spun, slamming into the wall and crashing to the floor.
The creature lifted the blanket high, exposing itself to the dim light. Its fangs glistened as it gave a victory cry and flung itself at Nyle, its claws digging into his back as the creature pulled him close. The blanket fell, covering the two of them as the beast held Nyle in that awful embrace.
The cloth did nothing to muffle the screams. Brice heard the crack of the lash once more, and then it dropped, and a foot kicked it away, as useless as it had always been. The blanket writhed, bulging out in all directions at one. Then it slid and fell to the ground.
The creature’s mouth was tight around Nyle’s neck, catching the arc of blood. In the grey half-light, Brice saw dark patches leaking between its fangs, and as Nyle’s scream faded out the slurping sound increased.
Then the creature pulled its head away, letting a few drops of crimson spill to the ground. It stood, and threw Nyle’s body aside. His eyes were shut. He didn’t move. Brice couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
The wound on his neck looked like the one Cathal had, only red and raw.
The creature rose to its full height, its head almost touching the overhead light that was no longer a threat. Dark moisture oozed from its mouth, the lips drawn back in a snarl. Then it tilted its head back, brought its arms out, and let loose a cry that was both pleasure and victory.
Only not to Brice. To Brice, it sounded like a death sentence.
The creature spun, hissing angrily, and stepped towards Ryann and Cathal. She had a hand stretched towards the torches, and it trembled as she watched the creature. But she carried on moving, and the hand that remained on Cathal started to slide towards the edge of his blanket.
The creature leaned in, and the sound it made was guttural and cracked, and full of menace.
Ryann froze.
Then she eased away from the torches, and her hand slid back beneath the blanket.
The creature backed off. Its head dipped in a grotesque parody of a nod.
Brice turned his head to Keelin. She stared wide-eyed at the creature, and Brice could hear her breathing, fast and shallow.
Yet he felt calm. His heart hammered in his chest, but his own breaths were slow and steady. And he was able to think clearly.
The creature had the advantage, but only because the light had changed. They needed to switch it to sol. Nyle couldn’t do that, but Keelin was a pilot. The Proteus would allow her to take control.
He caught her eye. He nodded his head to the door, then raised his eyes to the ceiling, hoping that she understood.
She looked to the door, then dropped her gaze. Brice followed it, to where Nyle lay in the doorway.
But Keelin didn’t have a choice. She’d have to step over him.
Brice signalled with his head again, to the bridge and to the ceiling.
Keelin nodded. She took a deeper breath, then started to shuffle. Her eyes darted between the door, Nyle, and the creature.
It remained in the middle of the room, as still as a statue. Brice could only see its back, but he knew it was focused on Ryann. And she stared up at it, like she was transfixed. Her lips were separated, and they twitched, as if she were trying to talk.
Keelin was close to Nyle now, and Brice saw her shudder. She whimpered.
Ryann’s eyes flashed towards the door.
The creature spun. It growled as it hunched over, arms out wide, claws clacking as its digits flexed.
Brice felt the knife at his side, and wondered when he’d unsheathed it. He stared at the beast’s rolling shoulders, and the bulge at the base of its neck.
He brought his free hand up to his own neck, rubbing the skin. And he remembered swinging a torch. He remembered it striking a creature’s neck.
Keelin’s eyes darted from the creature to the open door, her head unmoving. But Brice saw the way she held the rest of her body. He knew what she was preparing for.
And he knew how the creature would react.
She’d never get there in time.
Not unless he helped.
Keelin took one last look at the creature. Sweat beaded over her eyes. And then she ran.
Brice launched himself the instant she moved, and the creature lunged at the same moment. Brice threw his arms forward, and he grabbed cold, hard leather. He squeezed his fingers and pulled.
The creature stank, but Brice gripped tighter. The hiss became a wail, close enough to Brice’s ears that he felt the icy air shudder. Then he flung his other arm around the creature’s chest, keeping a vice-like grip on the knife.
The creature flailed. It spun, lifting Brice from the floor. He squeezed himself as close to the beast as he could. Clung to it like it had held Nyle.
Pain slammed along his spine as the creature threw itself back against a wall, and stars burst in Brice’s eyes. But the movement forced Brice closer. He shifted his grip, his fingers digging into the flesh under the creature’s armpit.
The stench burnt his nose. He swallowed vomit.
Claws raked across his arm, tearing his jacket, as the creature reached behind itself. It jerked forward, then slammed back, and once more Brice hammered into the wall. But the creature twisted at the last moment, and Brice slipped. He only held on with one white-knuckled hand.
The beast spun again, screaming, and a brilliant light flashed in Brice’s eyes. The stink of burning flesh hit him, and the creature twisted violently. Where Brice still grabbed the thing, under its arm, he pushed in with his fingers, and flesh rolled and bubbled, like it was
