A hand reached for me, dark with filth and God knows what else, and I severed it at the wrist. The thing recoiled in silence, but its fellows closed the gap.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the things circling, trying to get between me and the cabin, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Instinct, that primal lizard voice in the back of your brain, told me to drop the kid, to bolt for the cabin. Damn good thing I was an evolved primate. I kept moving, hauling Zane back over the rough ground as quickly as I could, hoping to God I didn’t trip on something and go down. It would be the end for both of us.
An explosion shattered the eerie silence, and it took me a second to recognize the sound of Cole’s gun. One of the things on my left was ripped away, sent asshole over appetite by my brother’s shot. Some part of me could hear him shouting my name, screaming for me to move move move! And not just Cole. All the guys were scattered across the front porch, caught somewhere between “What the fuck?!” and “Lemme at’em!” ’Cause face it, I’m the only one dumb enough to run headlong into something like that.
Another shot sounded, but there were too many of the things scrambling after me to see if it did any good. Three of them charged from my right, more than I could take at once, and just as I braced to take one or two of them out before they got me down, I was nearly flattened by two hundred pounds of brindle mastiff as he hurtled past me. Duke’s bellow added to the chaos, and the big dog tore into two of my attackers with a raging fury I never imagined he possessed.
I heard bones snap in those massive jaws, and not once did any of the creatures make a noise. The only voices I could hear were my buddies, Cole screaming at me and Marty shouting at Duke, and a panicked breathy shriek from the kid I was dragging across the clearing.
Duke seemed to grasp the idea of a fighting retreat, and as soon as he’d beaten the creatures back, he was at my side, a rumbling growl in his barrel chest but backing up step by step just as I did.
My heels hit something solid, and for a split second, I just knew I was done for. Then hands reached past me to grab Zane, to haul him up the porch steps and inside. Somehow, we’d made it. I slashed at two more of the things that were bold enough to come within my reach, and they danced back. Duke gave a lunge, and they scattered farther. I made a grab for his collar, keeping him from chasing after them. That’s what they wanted.
The silent ring of… things crouched there, just out of reach, watching us with an unearthly light behind their eyes. Their skin was pale, under the grime and gore, their shapes almost human in an emaciated, hungry way. Hairless, naked, gender only visible as a seeming afterthought. The one with the missing hand was definitely female, and the sight made bile rise in the back of my throat. The creature herself seemed oblivious to the limb that ended in a jagged stub, crouching amongst her fellows. A few of them rocked from side to side, breath whistling out of their throats. Keening, I realized. Howling without voices. And they sat there. Waiting.
Waiting for what? The thought crossed my mind before I could stop it and I winced. I should know better than to ask that sort of question.
My answer came in the form of a pale man who stepped from the trees on the far side of the clearing. His suit was charcoal gray, but that was the only color about him. Everything was white, from his short hair, to his ivory skin. In the deepening dusk, he glowed, like some kind of cave-dwelling larva. Even his eyes seemed devoid of color until the moment they flared red.
Dimly, I knew that the creatures were withdrawing, skulking and cringing in the presence of this demon. I knew he was their master. I knew it because even I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and all he’d done was stand there.
There was something… so familiar about all that whiteness.. .
He smiled at me, raised one thin hand to point at me. In that moment I knew, and in knowing, I saw through the illusion. Every part of my body went instantly numb. No…
In the space of a breath, he changed, a hulking white-furred form standing where the well-dressed man had been. On all fours, it flexed its vicious claws, tearing furrows in the forest floor. It swayed its head from side to side, flaunting the gnarled ram’s horns as big around as my thigh. Its muzzle wrinkled, exposing gleaming white teeth as it smiled at me. Nonono…
It charged without warning.
I tried to move, but the signals just weren’t getting through. Just like every nightmare I’d had over the last four years, my feet were rooted in place, and my mind could only conjure a litany of, “ Nonononononononono! ”
The Yeti galloped at me, crossing the open grass in huge leaps and I knew, even against all logic, that I was a dead man. Knew it so strongly that when someone grabbed my shoulder from behind, I couldn’t even resist.
“Down!” Cameron shoved me aside like a sack of potatoes and leaped off the porch. Landing in a crouch, he slammed his palm against the ground. “Consecro!”
The spell went off like a bomb. I saw the ripple-like heat waves on asphalt-as it passed outward in an ever- widening ring. I almost choked on the thick scent of cloves that burst into the air, and when the blast reached the Yeti, it picked him up and hurled him into the trees, shattering branches and bringing down a few smaller saplings.
Silence reigned, the world itself stopping to gape in astonishment. Standing slowly, Cam turned to look at me, his face almost as pale as the Yeti’s. “Inside.” Then he pitched forward, bashing his head against the porch as he collapsed.
Suddenly, I remembered how to move.
“Will!” I grabbed Cam’s jacket with one hand, feeling an absurd sense of deja vu as I hauled him roughly up the stairs and into the cabin. “Will, I need you!”
“Busy here, Jess.” Once glance told me that both Will and Cole were up to their elbows in Zane Quinn’s blood. They couldn’t help me.
Finally remembering to drop my sword, I flipped Cam to his back, ignoring the blood flowing down his face. The gash over his eye was the least of his problems.
The first rule of offensive magic is that it comes with a price. The bigger the boom, the worse the penalty. And that was the biggest damn boom I’d ever seen.
Before I could even assess the damage, Cameron seized, his back arching until only his head and heels touched the floor. Every muscle in his body contracted at once, drawing his face into a grotesque mockery of his usual self, knotting his hands into useless claws. His breath escaped in one long, agonized hiss, unable to even scream.
Mira had had bad reactions to spells before. Severe hypothermia, raging fevers, this one time with hives all over her body… But I had never seen anything like this. This was how people died, doing this.
The seizure lasted maybe fifteen seconds, but when he finally collapsed to the floor again, I knew at once he wasn’t breathing. A quick listen at his chest confirmed no heartbeat either. Like every other muscle in his body, his heart had locked up. “Come on… don’t do this…”
I went through the motions like I was supposed to, pinching his nose and trying to force my own breath into his lungs. Then compressions, counting in my head… then breathe… “Can’t answer my questions when you’re dead, asshole, come on…” I knew I was bruising ribs, possibly cracking them, but I had to get his heart started again. Had to.
“Will, this isn’t working!”
“Try a precordial thump.”
“A what?!”
“Hit him in the chest as hard as you can!”
With a grimace and a silent apology, I drew back and slammed my fist into Cam’s chest with every bit of force in me. His eyes flew open, and he came back to us with a ragged gasp that ended in a fit of rough coughing. I helped him roll onto his side, where he curled into a pained little ball, and then I finally got a chance to look around the room.
Will and Cole were still working over young Zane, using whatever we had in our meager first aid supplies. Granted, thanks to Will it was better than Band-Aids and iodine, but we weren’t equipped for.. . this. I couldn’t tell what injuries the boy had, but there seemed to be so much blood, much more than a fifteen-year-old body could hold. The kid was conscious, sobbing. That at least was a good thing.
Oscar was huddled against the kitchen counter, watching helplessly as my brother and best friend worked over his son. The older man had a glazed look to his eyes, and I wondered where his mind had gone to flee the
