It lifted its head and sniffed the air.
Nothing to smell here. No magic. No tasty morsel.
Slowly, slowly, I backed away. A narrow alley opened to my left. A few paces more. Quiet, now. You can make it.
As the Horror turned its head, I dived down the alley.
48
Kat
Hurry. Pause at the corner. Listen. Check over my shoulder. Hurry again.
That was how I threaded through the city. The Horror didn’t follow, but I heard more clicks and screams. This wasn’t the only one in the city.
How had they got here? How the fuck had they got here?
I kept tripping over the question, but that wasn’t going to help me—not right now. It was for after—for if I survived.
Yet once I quashed it down, a dozen more gushed into its place. Were Ella, Rose, and the others all right? Did Bastian know about this? Could the fae fight the creatures? During our trip, he’d suggested powerfully enchanted weapons could kill them, but how many such weapons were there in the city?
And how many Horrors had found their way inside the walls?
I shivered even though fear and exertion had me bathed in sweat.
A fresh clutch of screams split the air, and ahead, people sprinted across the road, followed by a Horror. I hid in a doorway, heart hammering so loud I was afraid the monster would hear.
But it disappeared after the group, spit sizzling on the paving stones.
I had my bow and my boot pistol. I’d seen how little the pistol did and I didn’t dare hope the bow would do much more. If I could get a clean shot, I’d slow it for a little while but that was all. I couldn’t save those people.
As I worked my way towards the palace, zig-zagging to avoid Horrors and crowds, the questions fell away.
Fear pared back everything.
There was only sight and sound and the terrible tension of my muscles.
I kept to alleys and small side streets, banking on the size of the Horrors keeping them to larger roads.
Frightened faces peered out of windows, but no one opened their door when I knocked.
I couldn’t blame them.
Couples and small groups sometimes slipped past me, coming the other way or crossing my path. Eye contact, a nod, then they were gone. No offers of help.
Survival was a solitary pursuit.
As I rounded the corner into a small square around the back of some elegant townhouses, I stopped short.
Back to me, a Horror hunched over an upturned cart, clawing at its sides as if hungry to get in.
Keeping my panting breaths as quiet as possible, I ducked into a doorway and peered out.
Magic hummed on my skin.
A glimmer of light seeped from a crack in the cart’s side, pooling and gathering until it formed the shape of a woman and two children.
They ran from the cart and the Horror lifted its head, sniffing the air. But as the light-people disappeared down an alley, it clicked and resumed its assault.
“Bastard!” A woman’s voice came from under the upturned cart and I understood. That light had been her magic.
Shit.
I gripped the edge of the doorway, throat clenched. She was trapped. And that Horror wasn’t going to give up. But I couldn’t help her. Still, my fingers closed around my boot pistol. It wasn’t enough. Too small, not enchanted. It would be no more use than her gift.
Fae carriages were sturdy—the monster hadn’t yet broken through. Thank fuck. Still, it was only a matter of time.
Then came the wailing sobs of children.
Shit.
Of course. The shapes she’d conjured matched the figures the Horror had chased here—her and her children. But her gift hadn’t fooled it.
I tried to turn around. I wanted to turn. I should.
Somehow my pistol was in my hand.
Fae children were a rare blessing. Many fae never managed to get pregnant, and there were fewer than a hundred children in the city. That was why they’d struggled to rebuild their population after their wars.
I checked my pistol—loaded and ready. Though I couldn’t get a shot from here—not with its back to me.
I could distract it, make it turn. With a little luck, my shot would drop it long enough for the family to escape and for me to get out of sight.
Or not.
It might charge at me immediately, giving me no time to get a clean shot on its eye.
Unless…
Unless.
The woman’s magic hadn’t worked, but mine might.
Every hair on my body strained to attention as I slipped from the doorway and, instead of running away, approached the Horror.
It was stupid.
Not safe.
So fucking monumentally not safe, I couldn’t believe I was actually doing it.
Yet here I was, placing my feet in careful silence as I eased off my gloves and placed them in my pockets.
I hardly dared to breathe.
Somehow I closed the distance and the Horror didn’t turn.
Unblinking, I watched as the details of its segmented body became clearer and clearer, revealing faint streaks in its carapace.
Almost there.
Then I was.
I swallowed down every instinct screeching at me to get the fuck out of here.
Trembling, I reached out and touched the Horror.
It wasn’t cold. Smooth like polished wood, but not cold.
The poison in my skin tingled as it had last night when Ella’s cheek had touched mine, and I waited for the dark tendrils to stretch over the Horror’s body.
And waited.
And waited.
My heart lurched into my throat.
My poison wasn’t… poisoning.
There had to be…
I tucked away my pistol and tried both hands.
The breaths twitched in my chest, fighting to become overwhelming gasps, but that would be too loud. The thing would hear.
Still nothing.
Then the Horror moved.
It didn’t collapse as Ella had, overcome by my poison.
It rose on its back legs, turning.
I looked up and up and up.
And found its void eyes looking back.
49
Bastian
Strange looks followed me to my office that morning. But did it really matter after last night? I could still feel her skin against mine, her hair tickling my face—could still smell her if I inhaled deeply enough.
Fuck, she was intoxicating.
Even better was the fact that, at last, I truly felt like she’d forgiven me. Maybe I’d even gone a small way towards earning that forgiveness.
There was more I could do. And I would.
“What’s put the spring in your step?” Brynan looked up from his desk, eyebrows raised as I entered his office.
Ah. That explained the odd looks.
I smothered a smile and shrugged before disappearing into my office. Not even the stack of reports on my desk could sour my good mood.
That didn’t happen until Brynan appeared at my door, ashen-faced.
An attack.
Horrors.
Here in the city.
On the busiest day of the year when folk had gathered from nearby towns and performers filled every theatre and square to celebrate the Winter Solstice.
When Kat was out in the city with our friends.