The next step, the liger hesitated, growling and shaking its head again. Wren made sure to keep eye contact and saw Saint creeping up from behind in his peripheral vision.
Sensing something, the liger tried to turn but Wren knew it would be over if it did.
Throwing caution to the wind, he jumped forward and grabbed the creature around its massive skull, pushing with all his magic against the barrier. With hands on it he could feel the curse pulsing under his fingers and did his best to burn it away, the leftover venom in his body fighting the strength of the curse.
Saint sprinted over and emptied a fistful of needles into the liger at once, scrambling back out of the way as the liger roared and pulled out of Wren’s hold, swiping at nothing.
Wren barely avoided being eviscerated as he backed up, hunkering down. “Calm, darling. Just calm,” he crooned.
“Wren, get out of there!” Saint called. “I don’t think that’s going to put it down.”
“He’s just scared,” Wren said, not moving further than he had to.
The liger was disoriented, the tranquilizer and Wren’s lingering magic fighting against the curse that still lingered. It swayed on its feet before falling, and Wren hurried over to place hands on its head again.
“It’s okay,” he said as he reached for the rest of the curse.
It fought against him, trying to shove him out, but Wren gritted his teeth, closing it in an angry mental fist, and squeezed it until all that was left was pain and vulnerability in a creature that had never deserved to be used like this.
He stroked its head with his bloodied hand. “It’s okay.” He realized he could feel the liger in the back of his head, the same way he had in the machine with the snakes. He met its intelligent eyes with his own. “Can you help me?”
The liger growled.
He pushed an image of Kellan through his mind and the liger roared, making Saint jump in fright.
“I want him dead too,” Wren said. “Can you lead us there?”
The liger was quiet for a moment before it rose slowly, grumbling in its barrel chest. Wren got up too and removed the collar from around its neck, realizing it was a shock collar with insane voltage. Something to keep an animal like this under control for when they wanted to pass through the woods. It also had a tracker.
Wren chucked it aside and turned to Saint. “I think I got us a guide.”
“Oh. My. God,” Saint puffed out, collapsing on the ground himself. “You’re insane. Absolutely insane.”
Chapter 23
Teddy
“Psst!”
Teddy groaned and rolled over in his single bed.
“Hey, Twelve. Wake up.”
Teddy blinked his bleary eyes open and caught sight of Four crouching near his bed, his curly brown hair frizzed beyond saving and his dark eyes wide awake. Teddy’s brain fumbled for a moment, grasping at a faraway thought that he shouldn’t be here before it melted away, locked behind a door in his mind. He had escaped here, and he didn’t know why, but he knew it was necessary.
He shouldn’t go back.
Something terrifying waited on the other side.
He shivered.
“Twelve.” He got a shove in the arm. “Stop daydreaming.”
“It’s called sleeping because it’s the middle of the night.” His voice cracked halfway through the words and he gripped his throat in embarrassment, puberty really doing a number on him even though he was already fifteen. Shouldn’t he be over this with the influx of new hair growth? “What do you want?”
“Don’t play dumb. Our dare! You lost, dude.”
“We were just messing around,” Teddy grumbled, trying to roll over.
