Cillian nodded.
“Let’s hope fucking Feather Boy goes home soon,” Caleb added with a smirk.
Cillian grinned. “If not, I’ll make sure he knows he’s not welcome.”
It felt like I had just closed my eyes when they snapped open again. After a quick glance at the clock, I realized I had. I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but my mind was fully awake and alert. Sitting up, I looked around at the familiar shadows of my bedroom, not seeing anything out of place. What had jarred me from my sleep? I listened, only hearing the usual sounds of our old house and the bugs chirping outside. A big lump in the middle of the floor was my alarm system, currently snoring.
Rolling my eyes at Cat, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stretched. There would be no falling back asleep right away now. It had taken me almost an hour the first time, my mind racing with every minute I’d spent in Gabe’s presence. The smell of him in the car, the way his eyes had seemed to twinkle when he’d turn and say something to me. We hadn’t talked about anything significant, school mostly, but it had still been the most excitement I’d had - ever, if I was being honest. When he’d finally driven up to the house, I’d been reluctant to leave, feeling safe in the car with him.
I sighed, shaking my head at how silly I was being. Getting up, I headed down the hall, glancing into Mom’s room as I went, noticing nothing out of place there either. Downstairs was just the same, and I convinced myself it had probably been Cat’s old man snoring that had woken me up.
I made myself a hot cup of coca, something Mom used to do for me whenever I’d had bad dreams. My hand stopped as I stirred the powder into the hot milk. Had that been it? A dream? I couldn’t remember what I’d been dreaming before I’d jolted awake, but now I wondered if that was the reason for the slight unease I still felt.
Maybe I was just on edge because this was the first time I’d been alone in the house overnight. Scaredy cat, my inner voice teased. Grabbing the mug, I went to the front and turned the lock, opening it against the mild night air. I sat on our porch swing, my feet lightly pushing off the worn, wooden boards as I swung slowly.
Our house was one of the Victorians that made you wonder if it was haunted. It had history painted on every fleck of blue paint peeling off its sides, the rust covering the iron decorating the peaks of the gables, the way the panes of glass in the windows bubbled near the bottoms. The wide, white porch needed some serious TLC, but there was something comforting about it to me. It wasn’t perfect, but it was loved. Even the gardens out back, the way they seemed overgrown in some places, the paths like a maze, leading you to hidden ponds and benches, was the sort of chaos that I liked. Not perfect and neat, no. But still beautiful. Loved and alive. That always seemed better to me than clean perfection.
The bushes around the far outside of our circular drive rustled causing my heart to leap before a fat raccoon came waddling out. Chuckling at myself, I watched it make its way slowly across the gravel before disappearing into the other side of the forest as I sipped the coca. I loved watching the wildlife in the forest. They never seemed to notice me, the strange being monitoring their simple lives from afar. I was never a threat to them, never something for them to even acknowledge.
But to me, they always felt like family. As if we had a connection because they were just as solitary as I was hidden here in the forest. At least, I had been alone for the most part, until tonight. Until, not only had I gone out with Emily, but a boy who was so far out of my league I couldn’t make sense of it, had deemed me worthy of his attention. I smiled into the mug.
Another rustle sounded in the bushes where the raccoon had disappeared, followed by a sudden yelp. I jumped, not expecting it. Putting my mug down, I walked to the edge of the porch, peering out into the night. There was a commotion now, growls followed by a pained cry. I gripped the columns of the porch.
Slowly, I stepped down, the gravel biting into my bare feet as I walked a little away from the house. The night breeze flowed through the skirts of my white nightgown, blowing my hair back from me as I paused in the middle of the driveway.
The fight had stopped, and I could only guess that whatever the raccoon had met, it had won. There was only silence now. Such a dense silence, that it took me a minute to realize that there was something exceptionally strange about it. The crickets had ceased chirping. The leaves were no longer rustling. The breeze...it had stilled too.
I looked up at the sky, wondering if a storm was about to hit, but no clouds blocked the moon casting its blue glow down on the clearing.
A menacing growl suddenly filled the silence. A growl that was close. Too close.
The hairs on my arms stood, some innate sense of survival waking, urging me to run. Slowly, I lowered my head to look in front of me.
I stumbled back, my knees giving out, sending me flat on my ass, as I looked at the pair of yellow eyes in front of me. Some part of me recognized the beast crouched there, knew the matted black fur and sharp teeth that dripped with blood and drool, it’s mouth open as though it couldn’t close it around such large fangs.
My heart raced as I swore out loud, placing my hands behind me to try and push myself away from - whatever it was, unconcerned that the pebbles were now digging into my hands and butt, the heels of my feet screaming in pain. What was it? And what did it want?
Me.
It wanted me.
It pawed at the ground, and I swore I could see my death reflected in those strange eyes. I had never been so terrified in my entire life.
Or so I had thought. Because in the next second, I was even more scared. So much so, I wasn’t sure if I was even breathing anymore.
Six more sets of yellow eyes appeared behind the first one, all of them focused directly on me.
“Oh shit,” I managed. I blinked, wondering if this was just another nightmare. I knew it wasn’t though. Knew this was all too real, and somehow familiar, as if I had always expected to end my life this way. Which was utterly ridiculous, considering I didn’t even know what these animals were, but true nonetheless.
Four of them broke away from the pack, two on either side, cutting off any escape I might have managed. They were surrounding me, insuring their victory. Not that I’d had much of a chance against them anyway. But now I couldn’t run, couldn’t go anywhere except back to the porch, but I knew I’d never get the front door open before those teeth ripped into my flesh.
The leader started toward me, savouring my terror, playing with me instead of just going straight for the kill. If such a creature could smile, this one was. It knew it had me, knew there was nothing I could do. I wondered if there would be anything left for my mother to find when she got home. Would she think I just disappeared without a trace? Would she come home only to find a stain of my blood on the stones, and nothing else?
A spark of anger ignited in my chest. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t let myself be killed, leaving my mom alone. She’d lost everyone else in her life, I was all she had left.
It moved even closer. I sucked in a breath, gearing up to scream, even though we had no close neighbours, no one to hear me. Maybe I would startle it enough to make it pause, anything to give me time to think. My hands fisted, grabbing rocks within my palms.
A brisk wind blew down on me a second before two heavy boots landed before my eyes.
I screamed then.
Seven
Mist of Blood
Black wings spread out before me from a bare, muscled back. My eyes ran over the dark membrane, mesmerized how they seemed to shine in the night, as if they absorbed the moonlight, locking it within them. A growl filled the air, this time not from my attackers but from the man - creature - in front of me. Another sense of déjà vu hit me.
“Get up,” the man ordered, his voice sending warning bells through my mind. I knew he was talking to me, and I didn’t hesitate to listen. My arms broke out in goose bumps as I pushed off the ground, my eyes snappi
ng to one of the beasts at the side who had lunged slightly as I stood. The sharp sing of metal sounded and suddenly the man held a large blade that shone in the dark. A deep thrumming seemed to pulse from the blade as though it were alive. I took a hesitant step away from it, but was paused by a hand on my hip. A spark zapped from where he had reached back to touch me and I jumped.
“Easy,” he murmured. “I need you to get to the house and lock yourself in.”
I nodded, even though there was no way he could see me. My breathing was loud in my ears as he took a step back, toward the porch, forcing me to as well. I tentatively reached out to brace my hands on him, just below the wings so I wouldn’t fall, not missing the way his muscles bunched at my contact. I snatched them back, my palms burning in spite of the coolness of his skin.
“I don’t think I can run that fast,” I admitted, whispering to him as if the beasts could understand me. Maybe they could. I wasn’t blind to the preternatural awareness in the eyes that watched us.
“I will hold them off long enough,” he said, his voice even, as though he did this on a daily basis.
Mine shook, as did my entire body, and I seriously wondered if I could walk, never mind run. “Th-there’s seven of them, and only one of you,” I pointed out.
“Thank you, I can count. Now, get ready to run as fast as you can.”
I nodded again, furiously, licking my lips. My hands gripped the edge of the black pants he wore.
Normally this would have mortified me, but as it were, I only knew that whatever this man was, he was the only thing standing between me and certain death, and because of that I couldn’t seem to let go of him.
“Ready?”
I nodded, saying, “no.”
“When I say go,” he said, a touch of humour in his voice.
I held my breath, rising up on my tip toes to look over his shoulder at the alpha of the beasts, his eyes tracking our every move.
“Go!” He roared.
I didn’t hesitate, I released my grip on him and bolted for the porch. The beasts at the sides instantly made to intercede my path, but the winged man was there, spinning while his blade made a wide arch, slicing into flesh with a sickening sound. I dared to glance over my shoulder to see the alpha still where he’d been before, watching as the other beasts attacked first.
My toes hit the edge of the step, and I stumbled forward, crashing into the side of the porch with a grunt. Pain ratcheted up my arms and shins. Scrambling, I got up the two steps and reached for the door just as teeth latched onto the hem of my nightgown, fabric tearing. I yelped as it halted me, but before I could fully turn, the beast had let go, it’s mouth now slack as the glowing blade was pulled from its body.
My eyes met the man’s as I panted.
“Inside, now!”
A foot got caught as I rushed to get on my feet and I heard him swear in frustration. I didn’t let it distract me as I quickly untangled myself and flung my body toward the front door, slamming it open. Spinning, I went to shut it, my eyes locking on the dark figure, my saviour, as he spun and twisted the long blade, taking down the beasts. Only two survived, plus the alpha, who was now circling him, his eyes flashing between me and the winged man.
Winged man.
My head still couldn’t wrap around that, but I’d freak out later, when we were both safe.
With his attention on the last two, I wasn’t sure the man saw the leader coming around his left flank. I called out a warning, just as the ones in front of him lunged for ankles, the alpha launching in the air at his back.
It happened in slow motion. Or, at least, it had felt that way. The man turned to cut down the last two now that they had come close, his growl of pain and anger ringing in my ears. His steps faltered for the first time, and I knew he had been hurt. With his attention on them, his blade cutting one down and then poised for the other, the alpha had a clear shot at his back.
No, at his wings.
Panic rose instantly, my body going hot then cold as I watched those teeth aim for the bat-like appendages, ready to tear them apart. I didn’t shout, my voice lodged in my throat. All I knew was that I didn’t want him hurt. Didn’t want the beast to win. My hand reached out, my feet braced in the doorway.
It exploded.
One second the beast was flying through the air, the next it was gone.
Gone.
Blood sprayed me even from where I stood at the front door, splattering the white paint of the porch, making the front of the house look like some horror movie. The winged man turned to me, his expression betraying his shock, as he took in what was left of the last beast. The other was slumped on the ground, the killing wound invisible in the dark.
“I...” I looked at him and then my outstretched hand, slowly turning it toward me. “I...I don’t know what happened.”
He sheathed the blade at his waist, putting both of his hands in front of him in what I figured was supposed to be an unthreatening manner. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.
I nodded, and then nodded again. And then couldn’t seem to stop nodding, as my entire body began to shake. I held my hand to my chest, my teeth chattering as he approached me carefully. “I-I d-don’t know what happened,” I said again.
His eyes said he understood. “Let’s get you inside.”
My eyes darted around. Were there more out there?
“Look at me,” he said, gently grabbing my chin. I hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close already. A soothing feeling soaked through me at his touch. “Take a deep breath.”
I nodded, doing as he told me. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering though. I think I was in shock. When I looked at all the blood, I knew I had to be.
The fact that a tall, winged man with a sword was now in front of me, touching me, wasn’t what bothered me. Oh no. Normally? Maybe. But not tonight. No, tonight I was creeped out by the fact that I had turned some beast from my nightmares into a MIST OF BLOOD. Yes, that was what my mind seemed to be having a hard time grasping.
“I think...” I blinked.
“Don’t faint.”
“I think I’m going to faint,” I said, trying to focus on the face in front of me. His fingers were cold on my skin as he cupped both cheeks.
“Hope, don’t faint.”
Black spots crept along the edges of my vision. “Too late,” I said, letting them blissfully take me under.
***
I was...in my bed? With a groan, I sat up, a cold washcloth falling from where it had been on my forehead. I caught it before it could hit the ground, looking around. How did I get here? Had I seriously just dreamt everything?
One look at my nightgown told me my answer.
No.
It had definitely not been a dream. Splatters of blood dotted the white fabric and my skin. I flipped my hands over, staring at my palms as if I was expecting them to glow like in some comic book.
“Good, you’re awake.”
My head snapped up. The winged man. He was also real. And he was standing in my doorway, making my tiny bedroom seem even more cramped. He wasn’t even in it, but his mere presence seemed to take up space, the shadows around him leeching out to swallow his surroundings. They seemed like a living thing in themselves, those shadows.
“I...what?” I looked back down at my hands, trying to gather some semblance of sanity and order. I met his even stare. “What are you?”
His lips pressed together as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to answer that.”
I sat up straighter. “Allowed? Who gets to decide?”
“The person I work for.”
“Well, who do you work for?”
“I’m not sure I’m allowed to answer that either.”
I growled. “Well you’re obviously...something,” I said, gesturing at the wings folded behind him. “Are you some sort of mutant?”
He grimaced. “No, Miss. French, I am not a mutant. This i
sn’t a movie.”
“Then what are you?” I held up a hand as he opened his mouth. “Right, you can’t tell me.”
I stood, my legs shaky.
“You should probably eat something,” he said. “Your body needs nutrients after...that.”
That. I looked at my hands again. “How did I do...that?” I asked, biting my lip, my voice sounding incredibly small all of a sudden. I lifted my face to him. “Or can you not tell me that either?”
The Dark Princess (The Balance Series Book 3) Page 8
