CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ailsa
MY BOOTS SKID to a halt and my eyes widened as my vision locked with two glowing crimson eyes. Something deep in my chest knew something was wrong.
Really wrong.
What the fuck?
Then a growl.
And another set of eyes.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood as more and more growls echoed and a shudder ravaged my spine as a thick, dark fog rolled in between the trees and gnarled roots, all but snuffing out the moonlight.
We were surrounded.
“At the first chance you get, you run into one of the caravans, lock yourself in and barricade all entry points,” Davien instructed with a lethally calm tone.
All I could focus on were the wet, disgusting sounds of the beasts’ salivating mouths. What even were they?
“Ailsa,” Davien gritted out.
I swallowed hard. “I’m listening. I heard you. I’ll do as you said, but what about you?”
Perhaps I shouldn’t care, but there were at least seven of these beasts from what I had counted, and only one of him.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, holding his little knife in front of him in a fighting stance just as a puddle of what looked like oil—black, slick and weirdly coloured with sparks of purple—appeared on the bed of leaves in front of us. “Now, Ailsa. Run.”
I should have ran.
I knew that.
But I was frozen in place in fear.
A scream had lodged itself in my throat, fighting my heart for space.
Half of me was pulled under by the despairing feeling of fear spreading through my bones, the other wanting, begging to put up a fight.
But my feet didn’t move, making the choice for me.
A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the forest’s every dark corner and the scream finally fled my lips.
The beast in front of us angled its head at me and I saw it properly then. It was a hound, if it could even be called that. Too large, too mutilated.
Its body dragged itself from a tar-like substance, limbs too long, joints bending at angles they shouldn’t, its skin—or what passed for it—shifting and dripping like it couldn’t quite hold a solid form.
Its eyes burned into me. They were void-like and endless, and when its mouth opened, it stretched too wide, showing rows of jagged teeth slick with that same black substance.
And then it lunged.
Davien moved before I could think.
One second he’d been beside me, the next, he was between the beasts and me. No hesitation.
Like a madman, he’d closed the distance between him and the beast, meeting it head on—grabbing it mid lunge with a force that shouldn’t have been possible, twisting, redirecting its weight before slamming into the forest floor with a brutal force.
He was lethal.
There was no panic in him. No wasted movement. Just efficiency, like he’d done this a hundred times before and knew exactly how each second would unfold.
Another one surfaced behind him.
And he didn’t miss a beat, he just moved. He was a blur of movement around me, nothing but claws and black blood flying through the air.
Another scream of terror tore from my throat and my legs finally sprang into action. I tried to speed run, but I was too spent after teleporting us. I reached an old caravan and ripped the padlock off the door.
A low growl emanated from behind me, far too close for me to try and run. My heart was beating so fast it threatened to break out of my chest. I looked around in a panic, in search of anything, anything at all that I could use to defend myself. I looked at the lock in my hand and trembled.
This would have to do.
The hammering of my heart pounded in my ears, muffling the sound of Davien’s shouts. I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was doing. I was improvising.
I gripped onto it tightly as I swung around to face the beast, immediately hitting it across the jaw with the lock, swiftly followed by a kick.
But the beast barely flinched.
Its glowing eyes stared at me with a hunger I was afraid to name. Its huge frame enclosed me and its foul mouth was so close, I could smell the rot from within it.
This was it. I’d die here.
After all that.
This was how my life was to end.
So much for being important.
Or powerful.
I released a laugh, the thought of Davien being wrong my final happy moment.
I closed my eyes, accepting my fate.
Instead, my eyes snapped open to the sound of a frightful sobbing squeal from the beast. It fell to the floor at my boots before dissolving into nothing.
Like it hadn’t even existed. Like it was just a nightmare.
And Davien stood in front of me, his features hard but wrought in what could only be described as concern as he took me in.
He was covered in black blood and his chest was heaving from the exhaustion of it all.
He must have been satisfied enough with what he found, for he quickly schooled his features and snarled at me. “Get inside!”
This time, I didn’t need to be told twice. I hurried inside and quickly barricaded the door by pushing an old, folded camping chair under the handle. I scanned the space, making sure all of the windows were shut and locked.
Then I just stood there, feeling like the most useless vampire in existence as the sounds of the fighting continued.
My nails were digging into the palms of my hands as I paced in front of the door, back and forth, back and forth, like movement alone would stop my thoughts from spiralling.
What if he dies?
What if those beasts get in here?
Where the fuck had they even come from, and why?
Why was every-fucking-thing after me?
Time stretched, warped, lost all meaning. Every second dragged, heavy and suffocating. It must have only been minutes, but it felt like hours until the noise outside fell away into nothing.
I stilled.
Silence ensued. It pressed in from all sides, settling into my bones with a cold certainty that made something twist low in my gut. I strained to listen, forcing my senses outward, desperate for anything—a sound, a movement, something to tell me what was happening beyond the door.
Nothing.
A shudder ran through me.
Was he dead?
The thought came uninvited.
What the hell was I supposed to do if he was?
“Ailsa.”
The sound of my name hit me like a shock. It was rough and weaker than before, but definitely his. Relief crashed though me so suddenly it almost knocked the breath from my lungs.
He’d made it.
Thank fuck.
A thud against the door came next, followed by “Open the fucking door.”