“I hate this,” I breathed, but I did as Belfry ordered me to. I turned and ran. Branches tore at my jacket, thorns snagged at fabric and skin as I plunged into the undergrowth. My lungs burned from the effort; athlete I was not. Behind me, voices barked orders, about the book, about me.
“She’s missing.”
“Spread out.”
“She couldn’t have gone far.”
They had to be from Sunworld; it was the only explanation. My jaw clenched tight, still bruised from the last confrontation, as I ran harder, sneakers slipping on damp leaves. I couldn’t see far, it was that dark beneath the trees, but I could still hear what was going on behind me: they were searching the car now, searching for what I had.
Belfry veered away, looping back toward the road. “Don’t you dare…” I started, suddenly terrified he’d abandon me when shit was getting tough. He hadn’t last time, not even when I’d asked him to; I’d had to shove him out the window. I knew that wasn’t what he was doing, and his words confirmed it.
I’m circling back to help Luther. You keep moving! I’ll be back soon, hang in there, Jade.Then he was gone. My heart rate soared now that I was alone; the forest looked twice as dark and twice as scary. It felt like the woods had swallowed me whole. Darkness pooled between the trees, every sound magnified, the snap of a twig, the rush of my own blood. I bit hard on my lip and forced myself to keep moving. I angled toward Hillcrest Hollow on instinct alone, even though twenty miles might as well have been the moon.
Something crashed through the brush behind me, footsteps chasing me over the uneven ground, far steadier than mine. “Stop!” a voice snarled. “Give me the book.” I was so not cut out for this: not fast enough, not athletic. All of this for a book about a creature that people had forgotten existed?
I spun at the sound of that voice, because it was so close I knew I could not outrun it. My heart was hammering in my throat at the sight that greeted me. He wasn’t… entirely human. His eyes caught the dim light, reflecting wrong, like those of apredator that hunted at night. His smile showed too many teeth. He repeated his order, a hand with razor-sharp claws swinging toward the book I was clutching. “No,” I said, surprising myself with how steady it came out.
He lunged toward me, and I stumbled back, nearly going down as my ankle twisted on a sudden root. His claws came so close, I felt the air displace against my face. Belfry appeared out of nowhere, a streak of black and gold. He opened his tiny mouth and belched a gout of flame straight at the man’s face.
“What the...!” the man screamed, and then he wasn’t a man anymore. There was a bright burst of light—white and blue-gray—that flashed across my retinas and blinded me. I kept stumbling back anyway, certain that if I froze in place, I was dead. When the spots dancing across my vision cleared, a wolf stood where the man had been; massive and gray, eyes blazing with fury. He leapt for Belfry, darting overhead, and missed, jaws snapping shut on empty air. Then he came for me.
I ran, but the ground betrayed me. My foot caught on a root, and I went down hard, the book flying from my grip for half a heartbeat before I snatched it back. It felt like the dark was writhing around me, gleeful over my mishap, eager for my demise. My terror was making me see things, like fingers of darkness licking toward the book before I gathered it close again.
The wolf was on me in an instant. Teeth closed on my jacket, fabric tearing, the weight of him crushing the air from my lungs. I screamed and swung blindly; the book connected with his skull with a dull, hollow thud. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I yelled,not because I was sorry for the wolf, but because I’d just used a priceless artifact as a weapon.
The wolf went slack and tumbled sideways. It just collapsed, turning into dead weight across my legs. I stared, chest heaving, my disbelief roaring louder than my pulse. “I did not hit him that hard, did I?” I muttered. There was no way I—a tiny, not-athletic librarian—had just knocked out a giant wolf with an admittedly well-aimed whack of a book. But there you had it: the wolf was out, for now.
Protection charm,Belfry said smugly, hovering above the fallen wolf.It grows stronger with use, and that crash supercharged it. Now run.I scrambled to my feet, kicking the gray bulk of the beast as I yanked my legs free. Gold and green glowed along my wrist, adding credence to Belfry’s declaration.
“What about Luther?” I asked, peering back into the dark trees the way I’d come, hoping for any sign of him. Belfry had gone to him, but was he back now? My heart surged with hope, but Belfry shook his tiny head as he landed on my shoulder. My feelings plummeted and crashed. Not yet? No, he’s gone? What did that head shake mean?
He’s awake, and he’s pissed. Don’t worry, Jade. Keep running while I get help.I knew Belfry wasn’t a mind reader, but it felt like he knew exactly what had been running through my brain at the time. I shook from the force of what I was feeling and from the rapid twists and turns these past five minutes had taken.
“How? Hillcrest Hollow is twenty miles away!” I pointed in the direction I knew the town lay. I couldn’t see it through the trees here, but I knew we weren’t possibly close enough for help. Thesounds of the woods creaking and sighing around me made my skin crawl. It felt like we were being watched, and I wasn’t sure whether it was someone from Sunworld or something else...
Bats fly fast. He zipped off before I could argue, so I did the only thing I could: I ran—deeper into the darkness beneath the trees but steadily aiming myself toward the town, as if it were a beacon that pulled, that called to me with the lure of safety, of sanctuary. Every nerve screamed that someone was watching me. The forest felt wrong: too quiet, too tense. Images flashed through my mind: mutilated livestock, torn fences, whispered rumors. How far from Hillcrest Hollow did that thing roam? That thing that might very well be the nightmare I’d been reading about all day.
A howl split the night, and I gasped in horror: the wolf was back. Then another howl came, different, deeper in pitch, and I knew the first one had gotten company. I bit down hard on my lip to muffle the terrified scream that wanted to break free, lowered my head with determination, and kept running. They weren’t after Luther, I told myself; they were after the book. They were after me.
Shapes moved between the trees, fast blurs my eyes couldn’t track. They were circling, and when I saw movement flash ahead of me, I knew I’d never make it. They had me trapped, cornered; I was surrounded. I skidded to a stop, terror freezing me in place as they charged from several directions: a wolf, something else—a bear, perhaps—and two lightning-fast people with flashing fangs. Then Luther dropped from the sky like a shadow given teeth.
He hit the wolf with brutal force, fangs flashing, movements sharp but uneven. Blood streaked his temple, his coat torn. He was fighting on borrowed time—I could see it—every strike costing him. With the wolf out, there was an opening, and he snatched my arm and swung me toward it, then stood protectively in front of me and faced off against the rest. “Jade,” he said, voice rough but real. “Stay behind me.”
One of the vampires, eyes flashing, fangs on display, stepped forward. No fancy suits for these guys, they were all jeans and biker jackets: thugs. “Hand over the book,” he said, calm and cold. “And this ends.” There was such finality in that word that he made “end” sound like a mercy he’d bestow on us, a swift death rather than torture. I curled my fingers into the hem of Luther’s jacket, sidling closer and drinking in the warm, steady heat of his body. He looked bad, bleeding, unsteady, but there was nothing but determination in the set of his shoulders.
“Fuck you,” Luther snarled. “You’re a dead man; you just haven’t realized it yet.” The three facing off against us laughed, or rather, the vampires laughed, and the hulking grizzle roared, as if offended. I held my breath, cast my eyes about for a weapon, fervently prayed that the fancy bracelet had another trick, and came up short.
As the sound of the bear faded away, the forest held its breath, waiting, hungry. Luther’s body tensed, his weight shifting on his leg as if he were preparing himself for a charge. The silence crashed to a violent halt when a roar rolled through the forest, ancient and furious. Everyone looked up, myself included, and I saw only darkness that blotted out the stars.
Luther had me around the waist, and then we were in motion, running, no, tumbling. My back hit moss and dirt, then we rolled, and I found myself first sprawled on top of Luther, and then back in the moss beneath him. Fire exploded through the trees, bright as day, blinding. I heard screams as a golden dragon crashed through the canopy, wings tearing branches apart, flames washing away the night. I did not see what happened to those three Sunworld agents, but I heard their pounding footsteps—their screams—as they retreated.
They were still running when Luther helped me to my feet and tucked me protectively into the safety of his arms. I got a face full of torn shirt, smeared with blood, but I didn’t care. He was alive, and I was pretty sure we were saved. Turning my face, I stared at the golden dragon, as big as a freaking airplane. It was one thing to be confronted with vampires and werewolves; another to see an honest-to-God dragon in the flesh; even if I knew he existed.
Belfry had come through for us, I didn’t know how, but he had, and Sunworld was running with their tail between their legs. I clung to Luther, and he clung to me, the book squashed between us. I was glad I wasn’t looking at them, because I’d never seen Luther grow pale in the face from shock before. Not like this. I heard it, though.
Wood groaned, and goosebumps rose along my skin. For one moment, it seemed like the night went so black I was blind. And then there were no more footsteps, no more screams, there was nothing. “What was that?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
Chapter 31
