Golden-eye fae monsters, the kind that supposedly don’t exist and that no one else sees. One of them savages my bag, snarling and clawing. There’s only my wallet, phone, a sweaty towel and a snack I didn’t eat in there.
The other two monsters move closer to me, growling low like thunder. My bones quiver with ancient fear. Their breath doesn’t stink of rotten meat like I thought it would, but sharp and acidic.
If I lift my hand, I’ll be able to pat one of the oversized heads. The bike is close enough that I can see the gleam of chrome, but the monster-dogs don’t scatter, they hold their ground. One head snarling at the bike, the other at me. I’d dart off the path, but I can’t get past the dogs.
A boom shatters the night. One beast explodes into silver and ink. It splashes on my hand, staining my skin dark. I flinch, expecting to be next. Then the rider leans out and grabs me, throwing me onto the bike in front of him like I weigh nothing.
I squeal and wriggle, not sure this is an improvement. The bike is going too fast for this to be safe.
“Hold still if you want to live,” his voice is gruff.
The bike spins in a tight 180 and the beasts rush toward us. The man lifts the biggest pistol I’ve ever seen and fires two shots.
My head rings from the blasts and I can’t hear anything.
It’s then I look up and see the rider’s eyes are fae gold.
