CHAPTER 27
POPPY
The little girl jerked up, her bloodied fingers grasping Malik’s arm.
Malik lurched back. “What the—?”
Her mouth stretched wide, and her head snapped down, her teeth tearing through cloth and sinking into flesh.
“Fuck,” Malik snarled, falling back, the scent of blood hitting the air.
The girl had latched on like some feral animal. Casteel shot forward, grasped the back of the girl’s dress, and pulled, dragging both the girl and Malik.
“Fucking gods,” Malik hissed. “She’s not letting go.”
Naill lurched forward, grasping the girl’s cheeks. He dug his fingers into the joints of her jaw. His wide gaze swung up to meet Casteel’s. “It’s not working.”
“Yeah,” Malik bit out. “I can tell.”
“This may hurt,” Casteel said. That was his only warning. He jerked his arm back with the strength of…aDeminyenPrimal.
Malik’s shout of pain got lost in the girl’s snarl as Casteel tore her free. He twisted at the waist and flung her across the chamber. She slammed into the wall with a sickening crack. I winced as she fell forward, landing face-first against the floor.
“That poor girl,” I whispered.
“Poor girl?” Malik scrambled to his feet. “I think she took a chunk of flesh—”
The girl stood, bones cracking as she did, her upper body out of alignment with her hips. Horrified, I stared as she…chewed.
“I think she did,” Kieran drawled as Malik cradled his arm to his chest. “And she’s currently eating it.”
She was.
She totally was.
“I think I might vomit,” I whispered.
The girl swallowed.
My stomach churned.
Her neck crackled as she turned her head toward Perry.
With a guttural sound somewhere between a growl and a hiss, she rushed forward.
Naill darted past Perry, snagging the girl around the waist. She went wild, kicking and snapping her teeth at the air. He grabbed her by the chin. “I’m sorry.” He twisted.
I looked away at the snap and inhaled deeply.
Naill lowered the now still body to the floor, his jaw flexing.
“Grul,” Kieran muttered.
“Excuse me?” Malik breathed. Casteel grabbed his arm, and Malik winced as his brother peeled back the torn cloth.
“You’re not talking about…” Casteel swore as he bared Malik’s forearm. There was definitely some flesh missing. “They were just an old wives’ tale. Like thelamaea.”
“Thelamaeaaren’t an old wives’ tale,” I said, shuddering. I would have to be disturbed by that realization later. “And neither…” I swallowed thickly, looking at the piece of torn flesh dangling from Malik’s arm. “Neither aregruls.”
