Chapter 17 #3
Then I heard it, a rumble that vibrated through my bones rather than my ears. My cheetah recoiled instinctively, hackles raised in warning.
“Brody,” I whispered, muscles tensing.
“I know,” he replied, his voice equally low. “Swarmers. They’re communicating. We’re being hunted.”
The first Swarmer attacked without warning, dropping from the canopy above with lethal precision.
The massive beast, easily standing seven feet tall on all fours, landed with surprising silence for something so large.
Its midnight-blue fur seemed to absorb the surrounding light, creating a visual void against the forest backdrop.
Brody shoved me aside, rolling in the opposite direction as massive claws slashed through the space where we’d been standing. The Swarmer’s wide maw gaped open to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth as it roared, the bone-rattling sound causing my vision to momentarily blur.
Five more creatures emerged from the surrounding forest, their movements eerily synchronized.
Each stood as tall as the first, with broad, flat skulls featuring multiple pairs of eyes that glowed an unnerving bioluminescent teal even in daylight.
I noticed they had no visible ears, but sound-sensitive bristles covered their necks and shoulders, twitching and adjusting with each noise we made.
My mind raced even as I prepared to fight. Six limbs. Retractable, venomous claws.
“Back-to-back,” Brody ordered, his voice dropping to that register that sent shivers down my spine despite our dire situation. I pressed against him, drawing strength from his heat.
“Don’t let their claws break skin,” I said, thinking of the paralytic venom. “Aim for the joint between head and thorax. That’s their vulnerable point.”
The creatures circled us, communicating through those bone-rattling subsonic frequencies that made my teeth ache.
I could sense their intelligence in the way they positioned themselves, not random aggression but coordinated strategy.
The pack was clearly setting up an ambush pattern, two creatures feinting forward while others moved to cut off escape routes.
“They’re hunting like a unit,” I said quietly. “Like parts of a hive mind.”
“Ridge legends say they were created by the Fae to guard revered sites,” Brody replied, tracking the closest creature’s movements. “Engineered for coordinated defense.”
One lunged toward me, its upper limbs extended to reveal fully extended venomous claws. I ducked under its strike, driving my knife up into the soft tissue beneath its jaw. Foul-smelling ichor sprayed across my arm, burning like acid where it touched exposed skin.
The wounded Swarmer made a sound like grinding metal, the bristles on its neck standing erect as it communicated its pain to the pack. Immediately, the others adjusted their strategy, two moving to protect the injured member, while three focused their attention on Brody.
Beside me, Brody fought with brutal efficiency, his movements a blur of controlled violence.
His fists connected with a Swarmer’s multiple eyes, the creature shrieking as the delicate structures shattered, glowing-in-the-dark teal fluid spraying in an arc.
Another creature lunged at Brody’s exposed back, and without thinking, I kicked out, catching it mid-leap and sending it crashing into a tree trunk.
“On your left!” Brody shouted.
I spun, narrowly avoiding claws that would have eviscerated me.
The Swarmer had reared up onto its hind legs, now towering nearly twelve feet tall, its massive shadow engulfing me completely.
In this position, I could see the glowing gland at the base of its spine, pulsing with the same teal light as its eyes.
My heart pounded with adrenaline, time slowing to crystal clarity as I assessed the threat. Six against two. Not ideal odds, but not impossible.
The largest Swarmer charged Brody, its maw opening to reveal rows of jagged, gore-stained teeth.
The subsonic rumble from its throat intensified, a primal sound that triggered an instinctive fear response.
I steeled myself against it, remembering stories of hunters paralyzed by terror before being torn apart.
Brody met it head on, grappling with the creature in a display of raw strength that made my breath catch. His hands locked around its throat, muscles straining as he forced it backward. The creature’s sound-bristles vibrated frantically, emitting signals that made my head pound.
“Rozi, the knife!” he called.
I tossed him my blade, watching as he drove it deep into the creature’s throat. It let out a high-pitched keening sound that made my ears ring, its legs thrashing as it died.
The remaining Swarmers reacted instantly to their packmate’s death, emitting a synchronized subsonic sound so powerful it momentarily disoriented me. My vision swam, reality shifting and distorting at the edges, a defense mechanism. They were using infrasound to induce vertigo in their prey.
“Don’t listen to their sounds,” I called to Brody, fighting the disorientation. “They’re using inaudible frequencies to confuse us.”
The Swarmers shifted, herding us toward a cliff edge with calculated precision. I felt the trap closing around us.
“They’re trying to separate us,” I realized aloud. “Working as a unit.”
“Not going to happen,” Brody growled, his hand finding mine. We moved as one entity, his strength, my speed; his power, my precision. When he lifted me, I drove my boot into the Swarmer’s eyes. Four creatures down. Two remaining.
The largest of the survivors was charging from my right, but I was focused on the one directly ahead. I didn’t see the danger until Brody suddenly shouted my name.
“Rozi, behind you!”
Time seemed to slow as I turned, catching sight of the massive creature lunging toward me, claws extended. I started to pivot, knowing I wouldn’t fully escape its attack range.
Then Brody was there, moving with impossible speed. He shoved me clear, the momentum carrying me several feet away. In the same motion, he twisted to face the creature, but the maneuver left him off-balance for a crucial half second.
The Swarmer’s claws raked across his torso, tearing through fabric and flesh with sickening ease. Six parallel gashes opened across his chest, instantly beginning to weep with blood.
“No!” I screamed, rage and fear flooding my system as Brody staggered back.
Despite his injury, he met the creature with a roar that was more wolf than human, his body beginning to shift.
Bones cracked and reformed, muscles bulging beneath his skin as he caught the Swarmer mid-leap.
His half-changed hands, still human but with deadly wolf claws, ripped through the beast’s thick fur, finding soft spots to tear into.
His eyes met mine for a brief moment, a flash of satisfaction visible despite his pain. The choice had been instinctive, the mate bond compelling him to protect me even at his own expense, regardless of my ability to fight.
The final creature turned to flee, its sound-sensitive bristles flattened against its neck. Without hesitation, I grabbed my discarded knife and threw it with precision born of years of practice. The blade found the sweet spot where its head met its body, and the creature dropped instantly.
Silence fell, broken only by our ragged breathing.
All six Swarmers lay dead around us, their midnight-blue fur already dulling in death, the phosphorescent glow fading from their eyes and spine glands.
I turned to Brody, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, a triumphant smile forming, and froze.
He stood swaying, his partially shifted form reverted to human as he struggled to maintain balance. The six parallel gashes across his torso had begun to glow, a sickly yellow-green light pulsing beneath his skin and spreading outward from the injury sites with terrifying speed.
“Brody,” I breathed, moving toward him, anger and gratitude warring within me. “You didn’t have to…”
He tried to smile, the expression twisting into a grimace of pain. “Don’t worry about me,” he managed, his voice rough. “Just a scratch.”
Then his eyes rolled back, and he began to crumple to the ground.
“Brody!” I lunged forward as his legs buckled, barely managing to slow his descent. His body hit the forest floor with a sickening thud, his head narrowly missing a jagged rock.
I shrugged off my backpack, letting it thump to the ground beside us. The carefully organized sample containers I’d packed that morning seemed laughably insignificant now. My collection kit could wait. Brody couldn’t.
“Brody! Brody, stay with me.” I dropped to my knees beside him, medical training overriding panic.
His skin burned with fever. The poison was racing through him faster than it should, too fast. With horror, I realized his pre-feral condition had weakened his defenses, leaving him vulnerable to the venom’s attack.
“Can you hear me?” I asked, tapping his face. His eyes fluttered open, gold bleeding into gray as his wolf fought against the deadly poison.
“You’re beautiful when you’re worried,” he slurred, attempting to focus on my face.
“Save the charm,” I snapped, fear making my voice harsh. “We need to get you to shelter. The nearest Fae dwelling is half a mile back. Can you walk if I help you?”
He nodded weakly, though I wasn’t convinced he fully understood. With strength born of desperation, I hauled him to his feet, ducking under his arm to support his weight. He was heavy, all muscle and male solidity, but adrenaline and terror gave me the strength I needed.
I grabbed my backpack with my free hand and considered his, lying where it had fallen when he collapsed. The extra weight would slow us down, but we might need the supplies inside.
“Your pack,” I said. “Can you hold it?”
Brody’s only response was a grunt of pain as another spasm racked his body. Decision made, I left his pack where it lay. We could retrieve it later, if there was a later.